Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Darkwood was not a safe place.

At least that’s what Ratau’s been told.

He was born and raised in this small village, but not once has he ever been allowed to step foot out of it. As he’s grown and been given more responsibilities, he’s tried to push for more freedom, to get a chance to explore the woods outside the small confines of his village, but he was refused at every point. His daily chores included chopping firewood, but he was not allowed to follow the lumberjack out into the woods to help fell trees. He occasionally helped deliver medicines for the doctor in the sickbay, but it was someone else’s duty to gather camellias for poultices from the overgrowth outside.

He isn’t a child anymore, despite how small he is, but everyone still treats him like one. He isn’t going to lose himself in the woods, he doesn’t plan on going far. He just wants to explore a little bit, to follow the others just outside the village's borders. If his brother could leave whenever he wished, why can’t-

“Ratau. It is your turn.”

“Huh?!” Ratau snaps out of his sulking for a moment, looking down at the board on the table before him. Trying to clear his mind, Ratau grabs a die and rolls. For just a moment, his frustration bleeds away as he rolls a three, quickly placing it at the top of his second column which already has two dice of the same face waiting on it. “Ha ha! Three of a kind! That’s… twenty seven points, right?”

“That is correct, young one.” One of Ratau’s many duties around the village was assisting the village elder, the old owl Karacyth. Taking care of the old bird is probably one of Ratau’s favorite chores. Karacyth could be a hassle sometimes, but more often than not, all the old man wanted was company and someone to play Knucklebones with. Ratau’s still learning, but it looks like he’s finally about to beat the old man after being taught how to play weeks ago.

Though, with a single roll of the dice, all of his progress is reduced to nothing as the old bird rolls a three of his own and places it in the same column, clearing Ratau’s column entirely and wiping out twenty seven points.

“You should not commit so fully while my second column is still mostly clear.” Karacyth tuts, his beak tugging upwards in a cruel smirk as he removes Ratau’s dice from his side of the board. “Had you waited for my second column to fill, I would have had less opportunities to stop you.”

“Whatever.” Ratau grumbles as he clears his board completely. He isn’t going to win this match anyways.

“It would also help if you were focused on the game.” Karacyth comments, his voice a bit gentler. “Tell me, young one. Is there something troubling you? Something on your mind that you cannot shake?” Ratau grumbles once more, not wanting to part with that information. “Could it be… You have found someone special that you cannot take your mind of o-”

“I probably would if I was allowed to actually do anything!” Ratau blurts, unable to keep his thoughts to himself anymore. “I don’t mind my chores, everyone is busy every day, but Ratoo isn’t!”

“Your brother?” Karacyth tilts his head slightly. “He has a lot of responsibility as the guardian of our village. I would argue he is plenty busy.”

“Busy doing what?!” Ratau asks. “I have seen exactly two visitors come to our village in my life. I have been told time and time again that it is dangerous in the Darkwood and that this is the only safe place, but I know that isn’t completely true.”

“Ratau…”

“I know Ratoo doesn’t think that either.” Ratau continues to rant. “You know the shrew woman who lives near the farm. I saw him sneaking off with her during his patrols, retreating deeper into the woods where no one could see. He evidently thinks it’s safe enough to leave us without someone on watch, but gods forbid I want to walk and see what’s outside of our village. He’s only three years older than me, I don’t see why I can’t do his job.”

“Ah…” Karacyth hums after Ratau concludes his ranting. “So it is jealousy that eats away at you.” After a moment, Karacyth clears his board as well, gathering his dice for another game. “Do you have time for one more round?” he asks. “We could talk about this if you wish.”

“I just don’t understand why everyone’s so protective over me.” Ratau says, gathering his dice again as Karacyth rolls his first. “I am not a child anymore. I have as many responsibilities as everyone else, but I am constantly pushed away by my brother who seems to have plenty of time to do whatever he wishes. It doesn’t seem fair, his job seems pointless.”

“That is because he is doing a good job.” Karacyth explains, gesturing for Ratau to roll. He does and rolls a six, placing it in the same column where Karacyth rolled a four. “It is because of his diligence that you have not seen the same horrors I have.”

“Diligent my ass.” Ratau shakes his head. “If he is at his post, he’s talking to his sweetheart. He just gets to stand around all day while I’m forced to chop firewood for everyone.”

“Consider that his reward for a job well done.” Karacyth tries to reason with the young rat. “Just as you are rewarded with sweets from the baker for delivering her firewood, Ratoo is granted the peace and safety he works to maintain.”

“From what?!” Ratau demands again. “As far as I know, nothing is out there!”

Karacyth’s hand freezes mid roll, his die trapped within his clenched fist as his vision grows distant. Seeing that fist start to tremble, Ratau feels a lump of guilt form in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “I-”

“It is alright, young one.” Karacyth assures him, letting the die fall from his hand before placing it on the board. “You are truly blessed to not know what lies beyond the outskirts of this village. Your brother only wishes to protect you from what lies beyond, from the Old Faith that still holds a grasp on the Darkwood. You should be happy for your brother that he feels safe enough to fool around. I can promise you, should trouble ever find us, he would gladly be in your position, though he would never trade places with you. He would never force the responsibilities he has on you.”

Ratau is silent for several moments, taking in what the elder has told him until Karacyth jostles the board in front of him slightly, urging him to keep playing. Taking a die, Ratau rolls, landing another six which he stacks in the same column where another rests.

He isn’t completely clueless as to what lies past his village, he’s heard the stories told by the elders. He Of Havoc, He Of Blight; She Of Hunger, They Of Might. The four bishops of the Old Faith who claim dominion over the Darkwood and its surrounding lands. Of course, those are just stories, right? His whole life, Ratau has only known this village and the humble work he does for it. Stories of ancient crowns and godlike abilities seemed too far fetched to be true and he chalked that talk up to the elders being superstitious.

Though it’s very clear that something bad happened out there. Is happening out there. He just wishes someone would tell him straight instead of treating him like a child with make believe stories about gods and magic.

Trying to focus on his game, Ratau rolls the dice once more and gasps as he rolls a third six. He moves to immediately place it in his center column with the other two sixes, but pauses when a chuckle escapes from the old bird. Glancing over at his side of the table, his center column still only has a single die. If Ratau commits too hard, one lucky roll from Karacyth will destroy him.

Examining the board for just a moment longer, Ratau places his die in his third column, forcing Karacyth to discard one of his own dice in the same column.

“You are playing smarter now.” Karacyth applauds. “Focus on the bigger picture. You are not the only one playing, you have to take my plans and actions into consideration as well.” He takes a die and rolls a two, placing it in the same spot he was forced to discard a die. As Ratau takes a die to roll himself, he pauses.

“Did you mean to turn this dice game into some kind of moral?” He asks accusingly.

The old bird lets out a bemused croak. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I am simply trying to teach you how to play.”

Ratau scoffs, rolling his die and landing on two, removing the old bird’s die from the board out of spite.

The dice hit the table several more times before a winner is declared. It is a game of luck more than skill, but with a change in strategy, Ratau claims his first victory over Karacyth, feeling his heart soar with pride.

“One last game before you go?” Karacyth pleads. “It is getting late, but if your brother is as lax in his responsibilities as you say he is, surely he will not notice your absence.”

“Alright, alright.” Ratau chuckles, clearing his board before rolling a die for one more round. “This is the last one though, old man. And no trying to spout life lessons, take this seriously.”

“Very well.” Karacyth hums, clearing his board and rolling his own die to take a turn against his young opponent. The percussive clattering of dice on wood fills the air as both players make their plays. As Ratau makes his moves, he considers getting his brother into the game so he could keep playing back home after his duties for the day are done.

Of course, he can’t get his brother in on this until he gets good enough to beat him over and over like this old geezer did.

Stepping outside after a long gaming session, the red glow of dusklight colors the sky as Ratau begins his walk home. His daily chores were done and the evening was his to do as he wished. With his skill in Knucklebones growing, he plans on whittling his own dice for when he’s ready to challenge his brother so he doesn’t have to bother Karacyth for his.

As he walks though, he can’t help but stare off at the trees in the distance. He can’t see the sun over the tall trees surrounding the clearing his village is built within and the massive pillars of wood obscure all of its light. Every evening and night, it was Ratoo’s job to patrol around the outskirts of town, venturing into those woods when he thought it was necessary.

Ratau wanted to see what was out there, to see what kind of flowers grew outside the small confines of his home, to see if there were other villages like his out there, but Karacyth’s words linger in his mind. They were all lucky things were this boring. If trouble ever comes, his big brother will be at the forefront of it.

Desperate to clear his head and keep himself busy, he hurries home. When the small and humble cabin he and his brother share comes into view, however, he can’t help but slow his pace when he sees who’s standing out in front of it. He’s sure his brother has his reasons for seeing her, but Ratau couldn’t stand the woman, and when she turns to face him, he can tell she can’t stand him either.

“Oh…” Hathor, the shrew who Ratoo has taken as his lover, shakes her head dismissively upon seeing the younger of the two rat brothers. “Don’t mind me.”

“I would, but you’re standing outside my door.” Ratau says, trying to weasel past her to get inside. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d be with Ratoo.”

“He isn’t at his usual post.” Hathor says, glancing out towards the woods in the distance. “I thought he might have slept in, but he isn’t answering the door.”

Upon hearing this, Ratau’s initial irritation melts away as is replaced with concern. Sneaking past her and opening his door, his home is dark and empty. Ratoo is not here and he isn’t somewhere where his lover can find him. Ratau looks back at Hathor, scrutinizing her to see if she was fooling with him, but the worry in his chest must be contagious as she’s now casting nervous glances out into the woods.

Karacyth’s insistence that the outside world was dangerous starts to plague Ratau’s mind once more. Surely nothing happened to his brother out there, right?

Ratau finds his feet moving without thinking, pushing him towards the woods.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Hathor calls out to him. “You’re not supposed to go out there!”

“You go out plenty with him, why can’t I?!” Ratau accuses, picking up his pace. “I’m going to go look for him.”

“I… How do you…” Hathor spats as Ratau hurries off to the edge of the village, gaining some distance before the shrew is able to recompose herself and chase after him. “You better not tell anyone that we go out there!” She demands.

“I doubt anyone wants to know what you do out there.” Ratau retorts. “Now either leave me alone or help me find him. He might be lost.”

Ratau continues to pick up his pace as troubled thoughts start to flood his mind. The urgency in which he moves gets the attention of other villagers and some of them call out in alarm, questioning him for why he’s running so fast and why he’s making a beeline straight for the woods. No one tries to stop him though, the closer he gets to the edge, the quieter everyone gets. Only Hathor follows behind him, sounding just as confused and concerned as he felt now.

“Slow down!” She tries to shout at him. “This is his job, he’s fine! He might not even be out there, he could be looking around my place for all we know! Just stop and think for a moment! You don’t have to go out there!”

Maybe he doesn’t, maybe he’s overreacting, maybe Hathor is right and he’s about to get the scolding of a lifetime when his brother finds him out here, but Ratau keeps moving. Whether or not Ratoo is out there, this is his chance to actually step outside, to explore the woods, to see what lies beyond the small clearing he spent his whole life in.

All of Ratau’s momentum comes to a halt once he actually gets close to the village's edge.

The number of homes dwindle, the beaten paths in the ground grow faint and overgrown with disuse, the little amount of sunlight that the clearing got is blocked out as trees begin to tower over the young rat. Standing at the threshold of the woods where there’s no path to follow and only tall trees growing out at random in front of him, Ratau starts to get cold feet.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Hathor asks, breathing heavily as she finally catches up to him. “You shouldn’t be out here. Just go back home and I’ll let Ratoo know you’re worried about him when I find him, alright?”

Ratau considers taking Hathor’s advice for only one moment before taking a step forwards towards the woods.

“Come on!” Hathor pleads. “He’s going to get mad at me too if you end up getting hurt out there!”

That gets Ratau to pause again and look back at her. Was that why she was trying to get him to stop? He was wondering why she seemed to care about him so much all of a sudden. She’s just looking out for herself. Looking back into the woods, he takes another step, then another, letting his momentum carry him until he passes his first tree.

“Ratau, get back here!” Hathor demands, no longer trying to convince him amiably. “Just turn around and come back!”

“Make me!” Ratau challenges, taking a few more steps into the woods before turning back to look at her. When he does, he pauses once more. Despite yelling at him and demanding that he comes back from the woods, she makes no effort at all to actually follow after him. Is she scared to step into the woods? Ratau wasn’t even that far, she could surely just step in and grab him, but…

Ratau braces himself to take one more step into the woods when his ears catch the sound of leaves rustling from deeper within. He freezes in place, terror temporarily rooting him to the spot as something scurries through the woods towards him. Even Hathor freezes up behind him, unable to move as something charges at them, ducking beneath the branches and weaving between the trees.

Ratau might have stood petrified and unmoving right up until the thing caught up to him, but when the approaching figure in the dark speaks up, Ratau starts running.

“Get the elder and the doctor! Hurry!” It was Ratoo.

Hearing the urgency in his brother’s voice and noting that he seemed too busy to scold Ratau for being this close to the woods, the young rat bolts out of the woods to do as he’s told, knowing that this is something serious.

He rushes past Hathor who stays behind to check on his brother as he sprints back to the center of the village. His nimble legs carry him halfway across the village before he even loses his breath, but a cold sweat overtakes him from the moment he starts running. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard his brother yell loud enough to crack his voice. Why did he need a doctor? Was he hurt? Is someone else hurt?

He nearly slams face first into Karacyth’s front door in his desperation to reach him, but slows himself down just enough to knock on it. He waits impatiently for the elder to answer, though of course the old bird’s weak legs lead to him taking several moments to reach the door. As Ratau waits, he couldn’t help but cast nervous glances back the way he came. There’s a trail of curious villagers staring at him and even more wandering down in the direction he came from to see what was going on.

The door opens and Ratau returns his attention to his task as Karacyth looks down on him. “Oh, hello again Ratau.” He seems pleased to see the little rat again, though his expression quickly falls when he sees how scared the young boy looks. “Is something the matter?”

“I…” Ratau takes a deep breath to explain what’s wrong before realizing he’s still clueless as to what’s going on. “I think Ratoo’s in trouble!” He manages to spat out, going with what little information he was given. “He told me to get you and a doctor!”

“Well you got me.” Karacyth says with a pleasant hum in his voice, though his expression falls as he turns his attention up the path the young rat ran down. “Now go get the doctor.”

Ratau nods and hurries off again, just as he hears a commotion break out behind him as his brother finally makes it into the village proper. Ratau does not slow his pace or stop to check on him though and remains focused on the task given to him.

Doctor Ikko is thankfully not very far from Karacyth’s home as he makes frequent visits to check on his health. The commotion within the village is starting to pick up though and Ikko leaves his station to investigate on his own before Ratau can summon him. With it clear that his services are needed, he retreats back into his home for just a moment to step out with a few tools to try and help.

With his task done, Ratau follows after the doctor and prays that his brother is alright.

Half of the village has gathered in the center of the clearing now where Karacyth’s tall frame towers over everyone else. Everyone has fallen into a hushed silence. Ikko tries to make his way through the gathered crowd and Ratau keeps close behind him. People have made fun of him for his small frame plenty growing up, but it has its advantages. Ducking and weaving between his bunched up neighbors, he manages to force himself into the center of the crowd.

His eyes immediately lock with Ratoo’s and while the sight of blood temporarily stops Ratau’s heart, he’s relieved to see that it doesn’t seem to be his. His older brother gasps for breath from the run here, but he clings a wrapped bundle of cloth to his chest, rocking it slightly as he tries to compose himself. Ratau does not need to ask what it is, everyone around him voices his thoughts in hushed whispers as Ratoo composes himself.

“Ratoo. Are you alright?” Karacyth asks, kneeling down as much as his old knees will allow. “What is this you brought with you?”

Ratoo continues to take deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Ratau can’t help but wonder what he saw out there to leave him so rattled. How close was he to seeing the same thing had his brother not scared him away? Once Ratoo has mostly composed himself, he holds out the bundle in his arms to the elder. Karacyth cautiously takes hold of it, startling slightly as whatever is inside moves at his touch. Was there something alive in there?! Karacyth must have questioned the same thing as he reaches down to try and untuck the fabric to see what’s inside.

He nearly drops the bundle at the sight of wool.

Everyone gathered around gasps in shock as Karacyth unravels the bundle to reveal that it indeed was a person. A child.

A lamb…

Ratau has only been told stories, but judging by the look of sheer horror on the elder’s face, there must be truth to them. Ratau has never seen a lamb before and that was no accident. Their kind are a bad omen, a promise of death for all who see one, creatures who are hunted by those who worship the Old Faith.

If the stories are true, Ratoo might have just doomed them all.

“Ratoo! Take that thing back out where you found it and get rid of it!” Hathor demands, rushing past the crowd to urge her lover to act. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“I had to.” Ratoo says through clenched teeth, shrinking underneath the countless shocked eyes leering down at him. “I couldn’t just leave them.”

“Ratoo…” After several seconds of hesitation, Karacyth hands the young lamb out to Doctor Ikko. “Check them over, make sure they are not wounded.”

“B-but Kara-”

“Treat them.” Karacyth urges. “I know you are scared, but please, let us do what we can.” Passing the lamb off to the doctor, he holds them as if they were on fire and that simply being in contact with them is enough to kill him. Approaching the doctor, Ratau tries to get a closer look at the child.

They couldn’t have been older than six. Soft, puffy white wool frames a dirt streaked, tear stained face that stares up at everyone around them with pure terror in their strange looking eyes. Red stains their left ear where a small cut bleeds into their wool. They look completely lost, unable to even register what’s going on.

“They were wandering all on their own, crying for help.” Ratoo tries to excuse his actions for bringing them here. “You told me it was my duty to protect the village and those who couldn’t protect themselves. I couldn’t just ignore a hurt and lost child all alone so close to home. Forgive me.”

Ratau can’t find any fault in his brother’s actions, but several murmurs rise from everyone around him. Whispers of bad luck and disaster, plans on ridding the village of this ill omen. They couldn’t actually be serious though, could they? They couldn’t be saying this about a scared little kid.

“Ratoo, I know your heart’s in the right place, but you have to put it back.” Hathor tries to reason with her lover. Ratoo looks almost pained to hear that coming from her, but before she can press him, Karacyth speaks up.

“We will care for the child.” Karacyth decides, immediately sparking debate from the others, though they all fall silent when the elder rises back to his feet. “Ratoo did the right thing, bringing an injured child to safety. Had it been me who found them, I would have done the same. This village has gone unbothered for decades, we will survive a while longer until this lost lamb can fend for themself.”

“But…” Many try to argue against the elder’s decision, but Hathor speaks up first. “Why was it even wandering so close to our village?! Something had to have sent it here! If we get rid of it now, we can avoid any conflict that-”

“No!” Ratoo snaps at her. “No, we can’t just leave them!”

“Then… Then maybe we can hand them over if-”

“Hathor, please!” Ratoo pleads with her. “I know you’re just thinking about our safety, but we can’t do that! I can’t do that.”

“There is no reason to argue. They are staying.” Karacyth declares, silencing most of the conversation around him. “They will stay with me. I have seen what the Old Faith does to their kind. If I can alleviate this child’s fear and suffering, even for but a moment, I must try to care for them.” Reaching back out to the doctor, he takes the child back into his arms. “Ratoo.”

“Yes, elder?” Ratoo looks up at Karacyth with a conflicted look on his face.

“You did the right thing.” The elder assures him. “Continue your watch. Your duties are even more pressing now. Be wary of outsiders, and if anyone comes looking for the little one, we have neither seen nor heard of them.”

Some of the villagers try to speak up and argue against the elder’s decision, but he’s already turned his back, gesturing for the doctor to follow him back home to tend to the injured child. His decision is final, he will not sway from his choice.

As Karacyth retreats back to his abode, the crowd starts to disperse. Ratau remains by his brother's side as he hears whispers and even curses thrown Ratoo’s way, questioning why he’d bring such a terrible beast to their home. Ratoo stands motionless, soaking it all in. It looks like he isn’t sure if he should be proud he saved the child or ashamed for bringing such an ill omen home.

“Ratoo…” Hathor tries to reach out to him, but he brushes her off.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He grumbles, frustration and anger rumbling in his throat. “I know you’re thinking of the village, but I couldn’t just… We’ll talk later.”

Hathor tries one more time to get his attention, but when he shrugs her off again, she knows she isn’t wanted here. She wanders off, leaving the two rats alone. Ratau tries to think of something to say, but he can’t think of anything that Karacyth hasn’t already said. What kind of monster would leave a terrified child all alone in the woods? The superstitions around the lamb are strong in the village, but that’s all Ratau believes the stories of the lamb are, superstitious tales. How could that little lamb possibly be dangerous?

Eventually, Ratoo seems to come to his senses as the sun starts to dip lower and lower over the horizon, the deep crimson in the sky fading into a deep purple. Looking up, Ratoo finds his younger brother standing nearby, waiting to hear that he’s ok.

Instead, Ratoo’s face scrunches up with disappointment.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” He demands and Ratau gulps to try and fight against the sudden dryness in his throat.

“I… I was looking for you.” Ratau tries to explain. Sure, he had ulterior motives for wanting to go into the woods, but it was his concern for his brother which pushed him to actually go for it. “Hathor was looking for you too so I thought something happened. It’s not like I would have gotten hurt stepping out a little ways in to try and get your attention.”

“Ratau…” Ratoo grumbles, not satisfied with Ratau’s excuse. “I told you not to step outside at all! You could have been hurt.”

“By taking like three steps into the woods?!” Ratau asks. There was still a lot of tension in the air and the whole lamb business has reinforced the idea that dangerous things happen out there, but Ratau can’t help but feel frustrated. “I’m not a little kid, I know how to take care of myself. It’s not like a short stroll outside of the village is going to kill me. Name one thing that could have happened to me on a short walk? It can’t be that dangerous if you go out there every single day!”

“Do you even need a reason after what just happened?!” Ratoo tries to argue, but Ratau holds firm. With a sigh, Ratoo folds. “Alright fine, you want a solid answer? A mile south of this village is a deep ravine. The woods surrounding the area are incredibly thick and if you aren’t paying close attention to where you’re going, you could easily trip and fall. I’ve been going out for over a year now and even I’ve had close calls. Someone who hasn’t left home like you would not be able to spot it or know how to save yourself should you fall in.”

“Do you know how you could help prevent something like that?” Ratau tries to argue, but his brother quickly shakes his head.

“I’m not taking you with me.” He says. “Especially not now, not when…” Ratoo looks off in the distance. “I should get going.” He says, turning to leave. “Please, please stay out of the woods. I don’t want you to get hurt. When all of this passes, I’ll take you out to let you sate your wanderlust, but it is incredibly dangerous to be outside right now.”

“Then why are you still going out there?” Ratau asks. There isn’t any hint of jealousy or frustration in his voice now, only genuine worry. “What happened to that lamb? Why were they all alone? Is someone going to try and hurt you out there?”

Ratoo doesn’t answer. Instead he steps forward and takes his brother’s hand before walking with him back home. “Don’t worry about me.” He tells him. “There’s a reason Karacyth chose me for this duty. I’ll be alright, I promise.”

Ratau wants to believe that, but worry starts to well up inside him during the whole walk. It’s almost enough for him to try and cling to his brother once he’s brought home to make sure he stays, but Ratoo quickly runs off back to the woods once his little brother is safe. With dusk light fading and orders to stay out of the woods, Ratau has no choice but to go inside and retire for the night.

As the evening ends and night settles over the village, Ratau can’t sleep. All of the running back and forth tired him out, but his mind races with thoughts of disaster befalling the village and his brother. All of this panic and chaos over a lamb? A child? Ratau didn’t understand. He wants to talk to Karacyth, to force the owl to explain what was so wrong about the lamb and what actually goes on in the rest of the world, but it’s too late now. He’d have to somehow force himself to wait until the next morning.

Lighting a fire in the chimney for warmth and light, Ratau grabs a pre-cut block of wood which he intended to whittle into dice, but looking at it now, he comes up with a much better idea that will kill much more time. With everything going on right now, it might be a while before he plays Knucklebones again anyways.

Ratau does manage to fall asleep that night, but only barely. Even after finishing and stashing away his project into his vest, he slept restlessly, constantly keeping an ear out in case anything happened outside. His mind lingers on his brother, praying that he’s safe as he patrols around at night.

Thankfully, it’s Ratoo who wakes his younger brother up the next morning, putting his mind at ease.

“Are you feeling alright, Ratau?” Ratau rises from his bed, rubbing his still tired eyes as his brother jostles him awake. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No.” Ratau answers honestly, curling back into bed in the hopes that maybe his brother will allow him to sleep in. “I was afraid something might happen to you overnight.”

“I told you not to worry about it.” Ratoo says matter of factly, nudging his little brother to force him out of bed. “Though, if it helps you sleep better tonight, I promise I’ll be extra careful, alright? Not that I’m not careful already.”

“You won’t go sneaking off with Hathor on your shifts?” Ratau asks as he forces himself to sit up, breaking into a wicked grin when his brother’s breath catches in his throat. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me have one more hour of sleep.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Ratoo challenges.

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Ratau asks his brother. “Things looked pretty bad between you two after you came back.”

“It’s… She’s…” Ratoo falters, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. “It was just a lover’s spat is all. Tensions were high, none of us were thinking straight. I’m sure you’ll understand all too well yourself whenever you find someone.”

“I think you have her intentions all mixed up.” Ratau shakes his head, pushing out of bed. “Maybe you’re right and I’m too young to understand, but right now all I see is a selfish woman who only cares about herself.”

“She isn’t like that.” Ratoo raises his voice, making it clear he wants this conversation to end. With a sigh, he moves towards his own bed. “I still need to talk to her, but I need to sleep. I had my eyes peeled all night, I need to rest them. I have a feeling I’m going to have a lot of rough nights for a while.”

“Sleep well.” Ratau tells his brother, lingering in their home for a while as he tries to think of something else to ask. Would it be right to try and press him about exploring the woods so soon? Before he can make up his mind, he hears a snore escape from his brother. It always freaked Ratau out that his brother could pass out so quickly. His slumber forces Ratau to move on though, he’ll have to ask later.

As Ratau forces himself to wake up and perform his morning chores, he notices a tangible shift in the village and its people. Conversations are hushed when he goes to get his breakfast. The lumberjack who is supposed to give Ratau wood to chop instead chops with him, refusing to venture too deep into the woods to fell a new tree for them to process.

Everyone casts glances into the woods, afraid that something might wander into the village.

It’s hard to get much work done with the amount of tension in the air. Ratau tries his best to remain productive, but all he cares about right now is waiting for the elder to wake so he can have an excuse to speak with him and learn more about what has everyone spooked.

Hours crawl by, but when the sun hangs directly over the village, Ratau hurries to the elder’s home to perform his duties as his assistant and to ask his questions.

Knocking on Karacyth’s door, he waits patiently for him to answer. A full minute passes before Ratau realizes that there didn’t seem to be any response at all from inside. “Karacyth?” Ratau knocks again. “Karacyth, are you alright? I’m here to assist you for today.” He expects shuffled footsteps or at least a word to get him to stop knocking, but there’s no response.

Is… Is he alright?

Reaching down, Ratau gently opens the door and lets himself in.

It’s still dark inside the small home, but the high noon sunlight shines in through the open door, giving Ratau just enough light to see inside. The room doesn’t look too out of shape, but as he creeps inside, he hisses out in pain as he accidentally puts his weight down on a die that’s lying on the floor. He tries to keep himself from cursing, knowing the elder didn’t like vulgar language, but his repressed sounds of pain cause something in the house to startle and scamper deeper inside.

“Hello?!” Ratau calls out, fear causing his voice to come out as little more than a squeak. That was way too small and fast to be the elder. Trying to let his eyes adjust to the dark, Ratau quickly creeps towards the old man’s bedroom when he finds that the door is open. If he sees something terrible inside, he’ll bolt back out into the light and get help.

Gently pushing the door open and straining his eyes, his breath hitches in his chest as more scampered movement dashes across the room away from him. He’s about to throw himself backwards back outside or towards the nearest curtain to let more light in, when a startled snort makes him pause.

“Hello?” Ratau lets out a shuddery sigh of relief when he hears the elder’s voice. “What time is it? Why is it so… oh. Oh you poor thing.”

“Karacyth, are you alright?” Ratau asks, happy to know that the old bird is alright but still terrified of what might be moving around in his home.

“Ah, Ratau.” Karacyth hums pleasantly. “Would you please open the curtains for us? Slowly, the poor thing is frightened.”

Ratau isn’t quite sure what the elder is saying, but he’s quick to do as he’s told, desperate to get some light into the house and get the old man out of the dark. Making his way to the thick curtains over the window, he slowly pulls them open, looking back as he does. Light filters into the room and Ratau finally sees what made the mess and scared him so much.

Curled up and hiding in Karacyth’s arms is the young lamb, cowering away from the light and Ratau.

“It is alright, young one.” Karacyth shushes them as he leans against the side of his bed, straightening himself out. “They kept me up all night. I assume you came to tend to me at the usual time?”

“Yes, it’s noon.” Ratau nods, unable to take his eyes off the child curled up in Karacyth’s lap. Despite Karacyth’s assurances, they remain huddled against him, refusing to even look in Ratau’s direction. “Are they alright?” He asks, still unsure of why everyone in town is so afraid of such a small thing.

“No.” Karacyth shakes his head after a moment. “It took me all night to convince them I would not hurt them. Whatever they have endured out there, it has left them broken and terrified.”

Ratau’s heart sinks at the thought. Half of the village was begging his brother to toss the poor creature back out into the woods where he found them. What could have happened to them before they were found? What led them to be lost in a place so dangerous? He approaches the elder and the lamb, meaning to help Karacyth off the floor and onto his feet, but the moment he gets close, the lamb bleats out in a panic, trying to shrink themselves down deeper into Karacyth’s lap.

“No no, it is alright, child.” Karacyth tries to console them. “This young man is a friend, like me. He is the younger brother of the man who saved you. Do you not wish to say hello?”

The lamb remains curled up in fear, flinching at every footstep as Ratau slowly approaches them. Seeing their reaction, Ratau stops and lowers himself to the floor, hoping that by leaving some distance between them he’d show that he was a friend. After a few more shushes and gentle pats from the old bird, the lamb musters enough courage to turn around and meet the sibling of their savior.

The lamb has been cleaned up and treated since Ratau last saw them with their ear bandaged and the blood and dirt cleaned away, but wet streaks still darken the fur on their cheeks. Wide, fearful, and strange looking eyes settle on Ratau, scanning him from head to toe. Ratau remains motionless as they do, sitting on the floor and giving them as much time as they need to get used to his presence.

After several seconds of quiet examination, the lamb curls back into Karacyth’s lap, still shying away from the rat, but no longer afraid to look at him.

“Do not be upset that they do not trust you yet.” Karacyth tells Ratau. “They will accept you in time, but the poor thing is slow to trust others.”

“I think I understand.” Ratau nods. In truth, however, all he could do was wonder why. Why were they so afraid? Why were they so scared of him of all people? He was a pipsqueak in comparison to many of his other neighbors, even his brother was surprisingly tall for a rat.

Where was this child’s mother? Did they not have a family to turn to? Someone they could trust?

“Karacyth,” Ratau looks up to the elder, “why is everyone so afraid of the lamb? Why were people trying to throw them back out? What’s going on?”

Karacyth looks down at the lamb in his lap, letting out a tired sigh. “I do not want to soil your innocence on the matter, but I feel it would be irresponsible to hide this from you considering what this could mean for our village. But first, would you be kind and fetch something from the kitchens for me and the child?”

“Of course.” Ratau nods, quickly pushing back to his feet. The sudden movement startles the lamb and Ratau flinches slightly out of guilt. Moving with a bit more grace, he exits the house, opening up more curtains as he goes to light the place up so he won’t trip on his return.

The trip outside is a brief one and within minutes Ratau returns to the house with two meals in his hands; grilled morsels for the owl and a small bowl of fruit for the young lamb. Stepping back in through the front door, Karacyth is on his feet and waiting in the main room. Hiding behind him and peering out from behind the elder’s robes, the lamb cautiously watches Ratau as he sets the two bowls onto the table.

“Thank you, Ratau.” Karacyth hums pleasantly as he steps towards the table, taking the small fruit bowl before offering it to the young lamb behind him. They seem hesitant, but a loud growl from their stomach pushes them to take the bowl before hurrying towards the corner of the room to eat. Satisfied, Karacyth moves to sit himself down at the table when he accidentally kicks a die lying on the floor. “Oh yes, Ratau? Could you-”

“Yeah, I got it.” Ratau nods, already kneeling down to pick up the scattered dice.

“Thank you.” Karacyth hums before settling into his seat and trying to eat his meal. Ratau has about half of the dice gathered before the elder speaks up. “I have been around for a very long time.” He sighs and Ratau looks up to see him gently rub the strange necklace of bone around his neck. “Long enough to remember stories of my elders sharing stories from theirs of a time long forgotten. A time where the gods’ rule over the lands was relatively peaceful, a time when lambs were no different from anyone else, a time when there were five bishops.”

“What happened?” Ratau quickly gather’s the rest of the dice and sets them on the table before taking a seat himself, listening intently. The young lamb in the corner pays them no mind, silently eating.

“I do not know the details.” Karacyth shakes his head. “I only know half remembered stories from several generations ago. Talk of this supposed fifth bishop is blasphemy. All I know are stories from ages long past where the Old Faith’s rule was once fair and benevolent. It no longer is. I have been told tales about lambs living amongst others as brothers and sisters, but I have personally witnessed what has become of them now.”

“Did…” Ratau glances at the lamb again and finds them staring back at him. “Did they do anything? Are they actually dangerous?”

“The Old Faith has ordered their extinction.” Karacyth says wearily, a haunted look in his eyes. “No matter how innocent, how young, the gods have demanded they die. I do not know if this is some form of punishment due to the actions of one, I do not know if the gods fear such beasts, but their rule is absolute, their word is law. I, and many of our neighbors fear that by sheltering this poor soul, we will incur the wrath of the bishops.”

“I…” Ratau feels his guts twist up with dread. This is why everyone was so afraid, this is why Ratoo kept pushing him to stay in the village and away from the woods. These bishops, whoever they are, are responsible for possibly orphaning this poor lamb. “Is there anything we can do to stop them?” Ratau asks, his dread bubbling up into frustration and anger. “Surely there are other people who see this is wrong who could overthrow their rule.”

Karacyth lets out a laugh as he shakes his head. There is no joy or mirth in it. “Oh, to be as young and naïve as you again…” He sighs before looking back to Ratau. “There is no overthrowing the bishops, boy. They are our lords, their will is law, their wrath is all consuming. We try our best to live outside their influence and they have left us alone, but by caring for this child, we act in direct defiance of their rule. If they ever find out, we can only pray that they will be merciful and only take the lamb. Knowing their capacity for cruelty, however, I know they will not show mercy.”

Ratau sits still, but a million different conflicting emotions clash within his heart. He feels grief for the fate of the lambs and the fear in the elder’s eyes as he tells his story, he feels rage for the injustice and cruelty of the bishops, he feels bone chilling terror for his brother and his neighbors, finally understanding why they were all so afraid to see the lamb. Above all of that, he feels frustrated that he can’t do anything about it. Someone should do something. Someone out there has to have the power to make this stop, right? If the bishops come looking, maybe…

During the long stretch of silence between him and Karacyth, the lamb wanders to the table with an empty bowl in hand. Ratau’s eyes are drawn towards them as they reach a tiny hand up over the table to play with one of the dice lying on top of it. The moment Ratau’s eyes are on them, they freeze up slightly, their body tense and ready to run at the slightest movement. Ratau remains still, showing them it is alright to play with the…

“Oh!” Ratau is suddenly reminded of his project from the night before and reaches into his vest to fetch it. The sudden exclamation and movement startles the lamb and they quickly move to run away, but Ratau calls out to them. “No no no, wait.” He pleads. “I have something for you.” His words don’t get through to the little lamb who quickly hides behind Karacyth once more, but the elder tilts his head in curiosity as Ratau reveals what he worked on overnight.

Pulling it free from the pockets of his vest, Ratau reveals a small, crudely carved wooden statuette of his brother. His whittling skills still need some work, especially for more complicated and larger carvings like this, but the challenging work helped take his mind off of his worries. He isn’t sure what compelled him to make it over the dice he originally planned on making, but seeing the look of surprise in the lamb’s eyes when they peek out from behind Karacyth, he’s glad he sacrificed the sleep to make it.

Karacyth reaches out for the statuette, taking it from Ratau before slowly lowering it down to the lamb. Their eyes go wide with wonder as they reach out, glancing between the elder and the rat seemingly for permission to have it despite being handed it directly. They take it and for the first time since Ratau’s seen them, he sees a smile start to form on their face. They retreat back to the corner of the room again, still shying away from Ratau, but seeing them play with the little carving puts a smile on his face too.

“Such a kind young man…” Karacyth hums, returning to his meal which he’s neglected up until this point. “I pray nothing kills the kindness in your soul, Ratau. This world is a dark and dangerous place, but people like you make it a little easier on us all. Please, do not let anything smother that kindness.”

“I’ll…” Ratau shakes his head, trying to hide his smile from the compliment, but he freezes when he sees the look on Karacyth’s face. He looks deadly serious. This isn’t him just saying he’s nice, this is a genuine plea. Ratau has learned much during this short visit so far and what he’s learned is that the outside world really is as dangerous as everyone says. There are monsters out there, monsters who want to hurt the lamb, Karacyth, him and his brother. “I will.” He promises the elder.

“Thank you, Ratau.” Karacyth gives him a solemn nod. “Now…” Taking a bite of another morsel from his bowl, he brings his arm across the table to gather up the scattered dice littering it. “I know it is quite early and you still have other duties to attend to, but would you-”

“Of course I do!” Ratau says with a wide smile. “I finally know what I’m doing now, I can beat you!”

“Oh?” Karacyth raises a brow. “Shall I start playing seriously then?”

“You…” Ratau pauses. “No way you were going easy on me this whole time, were you?!”

“I had to give you a fighting chance to convince you to keep trying.” The elder hoots. “I am glad you believe you can win, but I have been playing for longer than you have been alive. Victory will have to be fought for.”

“You’re talking out your ass, you old fart!” Ratau shakes his head, scooting his chair forward as he readies his dice. “You’re just trying to mess with me!”

“Excuse you!” Karacyth suddenly scolds and Ratau realizes why a second later. “In front of a child too, despicable.”

“One of your neighbors is an ass.” Ratau says in his defense. “Besides, I seriously doubt they care.” Before Karacyth can retort or scold him further, Ratau rolls a die, landing on an unlucky one which he puts in his third column. His play does the trick and Karacyth drops the argument to make a roll of his own.

The percussive clattering of dice against the wooden table fills in the quiet as both players fall into deep concentration, picking their moves carefully as they try to plot around each other's actions. As they play, the lamb is drawn in by the noise, their curiosity overpowering their fear of the young rat. Reaching for his dwindling pile of dice, Ratau looks over to find them standing beside him, looking at the board while clinging to the small statuette he made for them.

“I think they’ve already warmed up to you.” Karacyth says with a smile.

Ratau glances down at the lamb beside him and while the movement causes them to flinch, they do not run away. They remain at his side, looking up at him with his large, dark colored eyes. It still pains him to think that there are people out there, maybe even people in this very village who want to hurt this little thing. Karacyth says there’s no defying the bishops’ rule, but he refuses to accept that. Maybe there isn’t much he can do, maybe he can’t force the bishops to stop, but there is one act of defiance he can do reliably.

He’s going to show this lamb kindness. He’s going to follow in his brother’s footsteps and do what he can to shelter this lost lamb from the bishops who seek to slaughter them.

Though if he ever found a way to actually challenge the Bishops’ rule, he’d jump at the opportunity to correct this injustice.

Chapter Text

Days seemed to crawl by excruciatingly slowly now.

Ever since Ratoo brought the lamb back to the village, everyone was braced for the worst. Conversations between the workers were about the lamb, the people working near the edge of the clearing were constantly vigilant for the agents of the Old Faith, and nights were spent awake, listening for the first sign of danger.

Ratau could tell it was taking a toll on his brother.

Their schedules did not always work well. Ratau is tasked with work in the early morning while Ratoo stands watch all night. There’s only a small window of time when the sun starts to set where they can meet and during that time, it’s become obvious to Ratau that his brother is both exhausted and far too tense. Hearing the small talk of the village, many people blame the sudden shift in the mood on him for bringing the lamb home with him.

Even Hathor seems to have grown a bit distant. Hathor was not an uncommon sight at the brothers’ home as she waited for Ratoo to wake but her recent visits have been brief and in the moments when Ratoo’s patrols bring him close to the village, she is not always glued to his side. Ratau did not care for Hathor much at all, but his brother did, and it’s clear that he wishes for her to visit him more often.

Ratau had hoped that the passing days would ease the worry in the air, but things have only grown worse.

He’s not the only one who struggles to sleep at night as many others are fearful of nighttime raids. The lumberjack Ratau worked with is still afraid to venture out too far and is sure that a falling tree will draw unwanted attention to the village. Ratau would do it himself but he lacks the strength to chop a tree down on his own. All sorts of jobs throughout the village go down in productivity over the looming sense of dread smothering the place.

The only one who isn’t feeling worse by the day is the lamb.

Ratau’s duties still include tending to the elder Karacyth’s needs, but caring for the lamb has also unofficially become part of his work day. There were few people in town that Karacyth trusted around the lamb and even fewer who the lamb themself trusted. Ratau was the only other person in the village other than the elder who the lamb let get close. They still shied away if either he or Karacyth raised their voices and they always run for cover whenever someone knocks on the door, but when it’s just the two of them having a chat or playing a game, the lamb watches silently by Ratau’s side.

It was hard to feel dread seeing the little guy smile, especially when Ratau allows them to roll his dice for him during his games with Karacyth. They seem a bit too young to get a grasp on how the game works, but simply getting to play with the dice is enough to entertain them.

“Do you think everyone will eventually get over this?” Ratau asks the elder, setting the die he was about to roll down to speak. “It’s been days and people are still scared. Ratoo hasn’t seen anything out of the ordinary and he’s been pushing himself more and more every day.”

“I am sure some will eventually settle, but others may cling to their fears for weeks, maybe months to come.” Karacyth sighs, looking out the window to the few homes in view. “Superstitions in these lands are not to be dismissed. They are right to be fearful, the best we can do is pray that we are never found or that the lamb will one day leave on their own accord.”

The lamb turns their head to face Karacyth at the mention of them. As kind and caring as Karacyth has been, his plan was still to let the lamb go once they were able to fend for themself to spare the village of any punishment that may come for housing them. It didn’t sit right with Ratau, but it wasn’t his decision. He didn’t have the knowledge or experience to make a call about a situation this dire and sensitive.

“We will do what we can.” Karacyth continues, motioning for Ratau to roll his dice. “I will not abandon this child. Should my life end for this decision, I can at least face death knowing I made their last days comfortable. If they should grow and live a happy childhood, then I shall live with pride.”

“I still feel like we should be doing something proactive.” Ratau argues, taking his turn. He’s about to roll, but the lamb reaches out to him. Handing them the die, they roll it for him, landing a six. Ratau gently pats the soft woll between the two budding horns on their head for sharing their luck. “We can’t just sit around waiting for something bad to happen. We need to do something.”

“We are doing all we can.” Karacyth sighs, taking his turn. “Open defiance against the Old Faith is a death sentence. All we can do is pray they never find us or that they are merciful when they do.”

Ratau grumbles in frustration and the conversation ends there, the rest of the game continuing mostly in silence. The lamb watches from the sidelines, ignorant to the conversation regarding their fate and still clutching the wooden figure Ratau made for them.

There has to be something that can be done, right?! Who exactly were these bishops? How many followed their rule? Were there superiors beneath them? Could those superiors be convinced to turn a blind eye? Could they be distracted and sent elsewhere?

Could they be killed?

Ratau doubts he’d have the guts to go that far, but he refused to just sit around and pray. The game concludes and Ratau loses by only a dozen points. He’s been getting better and has won a handful of games, but Karacyth still dominates their rankings.

“How about you head home early today, Ratau.” Karacyth suddenly speaks up, gathering his dice to stash them away. “Your brother has been very busy over the past few days, I am sure he would like to spend some time with you before he resumes his duties.”

“Will you be alright on your own for the rest of the day?” Ratau asks, knowing he’s technically supposed to care for the old man for another two hours.

“We both know you are only really here to keep me company.” Karacyth hoots. “I will be fine. Perhaps you could send Ratoo over to visit me before his duties begin. I have heard the talk of the town, he will be relieved to see the lamb he took in is being treated well. I am sure the young one will warm up to him too. He has a kind heart just like you.”

“Thank you, Karacyth.” Ratau nods, hopping off his seat and moving for the door. “When he shows up, do you think you can try and teach him how to play?” He asks before he leaves. “I’ve been meaning to teach him myself so we can play a game or two before he works.”

“I will try.” Karacyth nods. “Run along now.”

“See you tomorrow!” Ratau calls back as he heads out. Turning to close the door behind him once he’s outside, he sees the lamb wave him goodbye and he pauses to return the wave. He knows they’ll like Ratoo, especially with how much they liked the statue of his image.

Back in the village, Ratau is once again reminded of how high tensions are out here. Just as Karacyth said, there are a few who are returning to their usual routine after several days without issue, but most remain frightened and vigilant. Ratau hopes the fear will eventually pass. It’s such a beautiful day out today, they should try and enjoy what sunlight they have left.

Getting close to home, Ratau rounds the corner of his neighbors house and is both annoyed and relieved to see Hathor speaking with Ratoo at the front door. It’s clear that Ratoo must have just woken up, but seeing the smile on his face eases some of Ratau’s worries for him. It looks like they’re making up for the argument they had a few days ago and he gets his confirmation when they lead forward to share a kiss. Ratau retreats back around the corner of his neighbors house and averts his gaze to spare himself from the sight. He’s happy that they’re into each other, but he doesn’t need to see that.

Giving them a few seconds, Ratau peeks out from around the corner again to find them parting ways. Ratoo closes the door and retreats back into his home and Hathor turns to walk in Ratau’s direction. Ratau considers quickly scampering around the back of his neighbors house to avoid her and any potentially awkward conversations that might arise, but Hathor suddenly stops in her tracks, catching Ratau’s attention.

Hathor glances back at the house before looking around to see if anyone’s nearby. Ratau is small and stealthy enough to go unseen and rather than continue on her original path, Hathor instead turns around. She seems to take extra care in passing by his home, lowering herself and carefully placing her feet until she is past it before running off once she’s clear of it, making her way to the edges of the village.

What was that about? Is she running off to the forest? For a moment, Ratau wonders if maybe she was setting something up with Ratoo, picking out a rendezvous spot to meet up for privacy, but why would she try and sneak by their house after going in the opposite direction?

He shakes his head and tries to discard the thought from his mind. He isn’t going to dig into his brother’s relationship.

Stepping out from behind his neighbors house, Ratau moves towards his own. Letting himself through the door, he startles Ratoo who clearly wasn’t expecting him to be home this early. “Oh, Ratau!” He still looks fatigued and stressed, but even now there’s a lingering smile on his face. “What are you doing home at this hour? Shouldn’t you still be at Karacyth’s?”

“He sent me here to see you.” Ratau explains. “The old man is worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard and wanted me to check up on you.”

“The old man worries about everyone.” Ratoo shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“If I’m being honest, you haven’t looked fine in days.” Ratau says, making his brother pause. “This lamb business has been wearing you thin. I can see it, Karacyth can see it, I’m sure even Hathor sees it too. Your job is still important, but the elder wants you to try and ease up. Everyone is worrying themself sick, but it’s been days. Nothing is going to-”

“You don’t know that.” Ratoo interrupts. “The moment I stop paying attention could be the moment they act.”

“Nothing has come here in years.” Ratau tries to insist. “Did you see anything else out there other than the lamb? Do we know for sure that anyone’s looking for them?”

“Hathor made it pretty clear.” Ratoo counters. “There’s no way they could have made it this far on their own. Someone had to have been with them, someone had to have hurt them for that cut to be on their ear. Someone was out there and they might still be close.”

Ratau has no immediate counter for that. He’s sure everyone is still being paranoid, but Hathor brings up a good point. Someone hurt the lamb, and if the Old Faith was as terrible as Karacyth claims, they won’t let the lamb get away.

“You should still see Karacyth today.” Ratau says. “I’m sure he can help put your mind at ease and he wants you to see the lamb again.” Ratoo startles slightly at that. “I’ve been seeing them too while assisting Karacyth. They’re still very shy and you might not convince them you’re alright before you have to go, but Karacyth wants you to meet them. He feels that seeing how happy the lamb is now will help ease your mind.”

“I think I’d like that.” Ratoo eventually nods, his smile widening again. “It also gives me an excuse to talk to Hathor some more.”

“Hmm?” Ratau tilts his head. He was worried that he might have been interrupting something coming home so early, but maybe he was mistaken.

“She told me that she had an idea to help deal with the lamb and make everyone in town feel a little safer.” Ratoo explains. “She was here only a few moments before you arrived, surely you must have walked past her as she made her way to Karacyth’s to share her plan.”

Ratau falls silent, a strange and unpleasant feeling forming in his gut. Something isn’t right here.

“She didn’t go to Karacyth’s.” Ratau shakes his head. “I saw her head towards the forest instead. I thought that maybe you were planning to meet up with her.”

The smile that Ratoo wore despite the bags under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders fades.

“Why is she…” He looks towards the door. “I don’t see why she’d lie to me. She must…” he looks back to Ratau. “Are you sure you saw her heading that way?” He asks. “Maybe she was heading home or towards one of our neighbors' homes before circling back. Maybe…”

“She went down the same path you always start on.” Ratau confirms. “The same path I started down before you sent me running back.” Ratoo looks incredibly perturbed. He fidgets restlessly in place. “You go out into the woods all the time with her, I thought this was just another one of your getaways.”

“We haven’t gone out there since the lamb came.” Ratoo shakes his head. “I told her to stay away for her own safety, same as you. I should… I should go and look for her.”

Ratoo moves for the door at a quick pace, but Ratau steps in front of him. “She’ll be fine.” He tries to reason with his older brother. “You run off with her all the time, surely she knows what she’s doing out there. Besides, Karacyth wants to see you and show you the lamb. You’ll be out in the woods yourself in a few hours anyways, she’ll probably be out by then, and if not, she’s probably just trying to surprise you or something.”

Ratau hated seeing his brother look this stressed and betrayed. He isn’t sure of any of what he’s saying, but he desperately wants it to be true. Hathor’s sneakiness is just an excuse to surprise her lover when he starts his shift, that’s all.

“Please, just go see Karacyth.” Ratau pleads. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

After a moment of hesitation, Ratoo sighs. “Alright,” He concedes, “I’ll speak with the elder. Maybe… Surely someone as old and wise as him will know what to do about this.” With a weary sigh, he steps outside, lingering in the doorframe as he glances out towards the woods where Hathor snuck off to. “Rest easy tonight, brother.” He calls back. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Ratoo leaves for the center of the village to meet up with Karacyth. Ratau knows that his mood will improve once he meets up with the old man, but he can’t help but worry for his brother. He’s stressed beyond belief, half of the village thinks he’s doomed them all, and now he’s just learned that the lover who he thought had just come around lied to his face and snuck away while he wasn’t looking.

It’s official now, he hates Hathor.

He wants to hold on to the hope that there’s good intentions he isn’t privy too, that this is all the set up for something nice, but seeing his brother so downtrodden after being lied to pains him. Even if Hathor was trying to do something good, she hurt his brother, and Ratau wanted her gone.

He tries to push her and his brother’s sadness out of his mind, grabbing his whittling knife to work on something new to distract himself, but he can’t. This couldn’t have just been a surprise. Ratoo is constantly on edge and wants people away from the woods. Hathor herself was afraid of the possibility of people following after the lamb, so why would she of all people willingly sneak into the forest while Ratoo’s away?

No, something is going on here, something that Hathor is trying to hide and willing to lie to her lover about. Moving towards the door and bringing his whittling knife with him just in case, Ratau steps outside.

The sun just barely peeks over the tops of the trees surrounding the village, casting the sky in a light orange color. The light won’t last long, he has an hour or so before the sun starts to fully set. Looking around to make sure no one sees him go, he hurries down the same path he saw Hathor go down, making his way to the forest.

He knows what he’s doing will upset his brother. Every step closer he takes to the trees quickens his heart rate, but he needs to see what Hathor is up to. Ratoo always explained away Hathor’s actions as her looking out for him and the rest of the villagers, but Ratau isn’t blinded by feelings for her. He knows how selfish she can be.

He makes it to the same spot he was stopped at a few days ago when he first tried to venture into the woods. Once again, Ratau’s heart hammers in his chest as he stares out into the darkness where the sun can’t reach. Once again, his dislike for Hathor pushes him to tentatively step into the thicket.

Ratoo isn’t here to stop him, but with every step Ratau takes, his mind falls back on the countless stories of the dangers out here and the warnings given to him from friends and family. Despite everyone’s objections and his own instincts telling him to turn back, he presses forward. He can see where the grass is stomped down, if Hathor was brave enough to venture this far, he should be too.

Looking back, the clearing is still in view, but Ratau trembles as he presses forward. He’s never ventured this far from home in his life. Years of playing hide and seek with his brother and odd jobs for his neighbors has given him an almost photographic map of the entire village in his head, but he has no idea where he is now. He’s in uncharted territory and every single step forward drives him further and further away from the home he’s familiar with.

He keeps moving, each step quickens his pulse.

The trail Hathor left behind is easy to follow. In the wild overgrowth all around him, it wasn’t too hard to miss the broken twigs and stomped down grass. It helps assure him that he’ll find his way back home, knowing that there’s a slightly beaten down path to guide him. He’s sure if he does manage to get lost, he should be able to find a path his brother frequents to wait for him there, but he’d rather slip back on his own without Ratoo knowing he was out here at all.

How far is this shrew going? Sunlight struggles to get through the thick canopy of leaves overhead, but he’s going to run out of daylight soon at this rate. Looking back, he can still see the path he took to get out here, but he can no longer see the village. No one else other than Ratoo would be willing to come out this far, this definitely wasn’t a set up for a surprise.

Was Hathor leaving the village behind? Why would she tell Ratoo that she was going to talk to the elder about the lamb before running away? What is her plan? The deeper Ratau followed her into the forest, the more convinced he was that something nefarious was happening.

He just keeps going…

And going…

And-

“Wait! Stop!” Ratau’s heart nearly lodges in his throat when he hears Hathor further up ahead cry out in a panic. Throwing himself from the beaten path and into the tall grass beside it, he presses his back against a tree, questioning if he’s been seen. “I came here just like you asked, put your weapons down.”

Ratau feels his throat go dry. She was expecting to meet someone out here? Who?! Was this someone else from the village who snuck out with her? Was this-

“Where are they?” A voice Ratau has never heard before speaks to the shrew with a menacing tone. “We told you to bring them here if you wanted us to leave your village.”

“I… don’t have them.” Hathor tells them, sounding incredibly nervous. Ratau can barely hear her over the drumming in his chest. They were talking about the lamb, weren’t they? He’s terrified to look out from behind the tree he’s pressed up against, but curiosity gets the better of him once more and he risks peeking around the tree.

In a small clearing just beside a running stream, Hathor stands before three hooded figures. All three of the hooded figures are armed with blades and are adorned with strange trinkets and scriptures. Ratau cannot see any of their faces, but he does not need to to know that these were outsiders, and what they say next confirms his worst fears.

“Do you not know how things work in these woods, stupid woman? Our lord Leshy does not grant favor to those in his woods unless he is offered a sacrifice of flesh. You will bring the lamb to us, or we will make a sacrifice out of you and your own.”

The agents of the Old Faith were here, and Hathor was trying to give them the lamb!

That selfish, heartless, mindless shrew! What did she think she was doing?! She wasn’t going to just get the lamb killed, she was going to get them all killed!

Ratau struggles to breathe as he reaches into his vest for his whittling knife. What does he do? What does he do?! Should he run back and tell Ratoo and the elder? Would they have enough time to hide the lamb or help them escape before these fanatics marched into the village to look for them? What will happen if they don’t find who they’re after? Will they slaughter the villagers to satisfy their bloodlust?

What if… He looks down at the blade he holds in his shaking hands. What if he…

“I can lead you right to them.” Hathor says and Ratau has to bite his tongue to keep himself from cursing this horrible, wretched woman. “If you and your people promise not to hurt me or mine, I will lead you to the lamb. We would have rid of them ourselves if it weren’t for the wrinkly old elder who’s far too gone to know that such a foul creature should be destroyed.”

Ratau tightens his grip on his blade. How dare she… How dare she! How could she say that about such a kind old man and an innocent youth! She’s truly despicable! A corrupt soul with a heart of mud and worms! Ratoo wasn’t turning a blind eye to her clear misgivings out of love, this monster had to be manipulating him somehow!

He needed to do something. The lamb is going to die if he lets these monsters go back to the village, the fanatics and Hathor. They cannot be allowed to return to the village.

Armed with his whittling knife, he steps out from behind the tree, desperate to do something to protect his home and its people.

“How could you!” He demands, startling Hathor who turns to face him with eyes full of terror. “How could you betray all of us like this?! Do you know what this will do to Ratoo?!”

“Ratau?! You- You’re not supposed to be here!” Ratau expects to hear rage from Hathor, but instead, fear seems to completely overtake her. “Ratau, you need to run! Go back home and hide yourself away. These people will take all our problems away, just please, don’t ruin this!”

“I cannot believe you!” Ratau growls despite the panic starting to claw at his mind. “They’re just a child! How could you condemn such a small and innocent creature to death just to save yourself?! How could you go behind Ratoo and Karacyth’s back! I’m not letting you lead these monsters back home, and I’m not letting you return either! Ratoo will already be heartbroken, I’ll do him the courtesy of making sure he never sees you again!”

Hathor is frozen with terror, and while she draws most of his ire, Ratau does not forget about the three hooded strangers. His whittling knife is puny compared to the sizable blades in two of the fanatics’ hands, but he stands his ground. They will not follow him home.

“Child…” One of the hooded figures steps forward, brandishing their weapon. “Leshy is not merciful, but I am. I may be convinced to forgive you for your blasphemous words and foolish actions if you do as I say. Disobey, and I will string you to a pyre myself.”

“I’m not a kid…” Ratau says, readying his grip on his blade. He isn’t going to be able to win this fight, he knows this, but if he can lose them and turn them around in these woods, maybe he can buy his village enough time to-

Something suddenly flies past his head and he feels something sting against his left ear. His hand flies up to it on instinct and when he brings his hand back down, he finds his palm coated in red. Looking back up, he finds one of the three figures aiming a bow at him, already nocking another arrow.

“RUN!” Hathor screams, and Ratau bolts back down the way he came.

Panic seizes in his chest he tries to run as fast as he can through the thicket, crying out in fear every time another arrow flies overhead. They’re going to kill him! He’s never seen this much of his own blood before and the sight of it is almost enough to make him faint, but adrenaline keeps his legs moving even as his brain goes haywire. His original plan is abandoned, all he can think to do is run and hide.

Arrows continue to fly and footsteps quickly follow behind him. Further back, he thinks he hears the sound of a horn being blown, its sound reverberating between the trees. His mind refuses to let him linger on it or question what the sound meant, all he can do is run.

He clutches his knife in his hands as if it will do anything to save him in this situation. The blade itself is only a couple of inches long, what is it going to do against these lunatics?!

Another arrow whizzes right past him, catching on his vest before embedding itself into the tree in front of him. Throwing a panicked look back, he finds that the bowman is the only one who is still chasing him. One guy is a bit more manageable to deal with, but even while running he’s still nocking arrows. He’s persistent, and Ratau fears that he might not be able to outrun him.

Focusing on where he’s going, he banks left just in time to avoid slamming face first into a tree, bolting off into the tall grass. An arrow is fired into the grass after him, and while it rips through many of the blades in its path, the arrow quickly loses momentum and eventually lands in the dirt. The bowman is at a disadvantage here, but so is Ratau. Tall blades of grass whip at his face as he tries to push himself through it and he swings his whittling knife blindly in the hopes that maybe it will cut through.

“Hold still!” Another arrow flies, this one just barely missing Ratau. Knowing he has a bit of time before another arrow is nocked, Ratau turns to see how far he is from the archer when the bowman suddenly trips. He collapses into the tall grass, flattening a large patch as he throws his hands out to try and save himself. Ratau’s heart soars, believing that this is his chance to get enough distance from him to escape, when his foot catches a root growing out of the ground and he trips himself.

Ratau crashes into the dirt, knocking the wind out of himself. His legs burn from all the running and he gasps for breath to try and push himself up when a different idea comes to mind. Crawling around on the ground, he tries to lose himself in the grass. The archer was already struggling to hit him in this terrain, if he can lose himself in it, hopefully the fanatic will give up and abandon his hunt.

Ratau finds a spot and lies motionless in the dirt, trying his hardest to slow down his breathing despite the burning in his chest and the rapid fire pounding of his heart. Down this low to the ground, the grass towers above him and he’s unable to see anything, but he can hear as the archer rises back to his feet and curses to himself.

“You think you’re clever, rat?!” He snarls and Ratau’s guts turn to stone when he hears a blade unsheathe. “I know you’re still here. Come out and I will show you mercy and slit your throat right here and now. Those who are dragged away for sacrifice suffer much worse fates.”

Ratau holds his breath and wills his body to remain completely still, even as he hears a blade chop through the tall grass. His lungs scream for air, but he doesn’t dare make a sound as footsteps and slashing blades inch closer and closer to him. He grips his own blade tight, praying that he won’t have to use it but bracing himself in case he does.

“You will not escape alive!” The fanatic shouts, and Ratau allows himself to take shallow, quiet breaths as he does. “No matter where you run, we will find you! Your still beating heart will be torn from your chest and your body will be left to rot and return to the Darkwood. Reveal yourself, and your death will be relatively painless.”

The swinging blade gets closer and closer, and Ratau can see the grass nearby get pressed down as the fanatic draws near. He holds his breath again, praying that maybe he’ll pass Ratau by. A blade suddenly cuts through the grass over his head and he presses his ears flat against his skull, just barely saving his already maimed left ear from getting lopped off completely.

The fanatic doesn’t seem to notice that he nearly cuts into Ratau and continues to slowly stalk forward, slashing into the grass. Ratau’s chest burns as he desperately needs to breathe, but he can’t make a sound with him this close. He feels his rapidly beating heart lodge into his throat as the fanatic’s foot falls right in front of his face, still unaware of where he’s hiding in the grass.

Ratau needs to act, he needs to breathe, he needs to run. With the Fanatic this close and unaware, he has the perfect opportunity to strike. Steeling himself, he slowly lifts his hand with his whittling knife held tightly in his grip.

Before the fanatic can step away, Ratau thrusts his knife forward and slashes at his achilles tendon.

The short, but sharp blade wouldn’t have done much in a real fight, but this one sneak attack takes the fanatic down almost instantly as they howl out in pain and fall to the ground. Ratau scrambles up to his feet and backs away just in time to avoid the blade that is swung wildly in his direction.

“You damned rat!” The fanatic screams. “A thousand curses upon you and yours! I pray that Leshy devours your soul!”

Ratau turns and runs, pushing himself through the tall grass and trying his best to ignore the feeling of hot blood against his hand as he tries to get as much distance away from these horrible people as possible. The fanatic continues to shout curses at him the whole way, but they fade into the distance as he’s left immobilized in the tall grass. Ratau keeps running until he can no longer hear him and then pushes himself a little further for good measure before his legs start to give out on him and he’s forced to stop.

When he does, he collapses into the dirt, his body nearly giving out as pain, fear, and exhaustion steal his strength away. He struggles to breathe, his whole body shakes with terror, he can feel blood running down the side of his neck from where an arrow nicked his ear.

They tried to kill him…

He pushes himself up and sits himself beside a tree, leaning against it for support. He has never been more terrified in his life. He looks down at his hand and at the bloodied knife still clenched in his grip and drops it, cringing as he tries to wipe his hand clean in the grass. He didn’t think he’d be able to go through with hurting someone, he was just hoping he could scare everyone away when he revealed himself, but… He reaches up to his ear, hissing in pain when his fingers brush against torn flesh. He was this close to death. Had he aimed just a little bit more to the left, he’d…

Ratau looks around. The sun has sunk even lower in the sky and what little light he had to work with was almost gone. The path that he took into the woods is nowhere to be seen and with how much he had to duck and weave to avoid arrows and trees, he has no idea where home is. Terror starts to grip at his heart again as he realizes he’s lost. If he picks a direction and starts moving, he’d be just as likely to run even further from safety in his attempts to find a path back home.

He needs to get back home.

Everyone was in danger due to the selfish, traitorous actions of that despicable shrew! With how quickly those fanatics were to fire at him, Ratau’s sure that even if he didn’t interfere they wouldn’t have stopped at just the lamb. Hathor’s misguided attempts at saving the village have doomed it and everyone inside. All he can do is hope that if he’s this lost, then maybe everyone else lost themselves too in the chase.

He needs to get back home to warn everyone, to hide the lamb away to save them from these monsters, to stop his brother from wandering into the woods he now knows is filled with bow wielding maniacs.

Pushing himself up onto shaky legs and rearming himself with his whittling knife, Ratau starts to creep through the woods. He is terrified for his life, but even more so for his friends and family. He needs to find everyone and make sure they’re safe.

Walking through the woods, he tries to get his breathing in order. The pain of his ear and the discomfort of the blood running down his neck could be ignored, but his whole body remains on high alert and it makes it difficult to get a proper breath in. He needs to be quiet though, quiet enough to hear any approaching danger and to not be discovered himself.

Every minute that passes plunges him further into darkness and panic. As visibility decreases, it becomes harder and harder to breathe. He doesn’t want to be lost out here all alone in the dark. Is he going the right way? If he got turned around, how long would he have to walk before he found someplace safe?

Is he going to die out here?

He picks up his pace, his desperation to find home before he goes completely blind in the dark mounting. There was a stream where he found Hathor, as long as he doesn’t cross that stream, he should be close to home, right? He can barely see his hands in front of his face. What is he going to do when he can’t see anything at-

Ratau stops when he hears a horn sound off somewhere to his right.

He heard that horn when he first started getting chased, but he was far too preoccupied to question what it was or what it meant. Now that he wasn’t in immediate danger, his mind offered him a terrifying thought. The Old Faith were gathering their forces, they were calling out to everyone who could hear. The sound struck terror into Ratau’s heart, but it also gave him something to follow. He’s wandering blind out in the dark, these monsters are the only thing he can follow. They’re searching for the village, if he follows them, he’ll find it too.

Changing course and pushing himself in the direction he heard the horns, he tries his best to rush through the thicket as fast as he can. His whole body stings with cuts and bruises as low hanging branches scratch against his face and he kicks at unseen rocks below his feet. He doesn’t let the pain slow him down though, he needs to keep moving, he…

After stumbling around in the dark for who knows how long, he finally sees light in the distance, still half obscured by trees and leaves. He moves towards it, having nothing else to guide him. The light doesn’t reach all the way out where he is, leaving him to still trip and stumble all along the way, but the light gets closer with every step…

As do the sounds…

As Ratau gets closer, he feels a growing heat overwhelm him and the sound of screams fills the air. Closer still, he can hear the clashing of steel, demands for repentance, and the sound of homes being destroyed.

Escaping from the forest, Ratau finds his village completely ablaze.

Flames consume houses whole as people scatter in a panic, some trying to save their homes, others rushing in to grab what they can before it’s completely destroyed. Those who flee make their way to the center of the village which hasn’t been burnt yet, but not everyone makes it.

Scattered amongst the fleeing villagers are more hooded agents of the Old Faith. Ratau can only watch in muted horror as they move from house to house, torching them and drawing their blades on anyone who tries to stop them. There are already bodies lying motionless in the dirt, his neighbors, his friends…

Ratau doesn’t know what to do. Everywhere he looks, he finds either fire or swords in his path. The only option that might save him is to retreat back into the woods, but… No, he can’t leave, he has to do something to-

“Found you, rat!” A shiver runs up Ratau’s spine despite the heat as a familiar voice calls out behind him. He spins around and finds the same fanatic that Hathor met up with before he ran. Their sword is already drawn as they charge forward. “Die you littl-”

Ratau remains frozen, his legs locking up as the fanatic brings their sword over their head to cleave him in two, when a spear flies in from Ratau’s peripheral vision and embeds itself into the fanatic’s throat.

The swordsman collapses to the ground in an instant, their hands reaching to try and pull the spear out for only a moment before their entire body goes limp. Ratau has seen dead people before, it was an unavoidable part of life out here in the village, people get hurt and sick all the time, but he has never seen a life end so violently, to be taken so suddenly. It leaves him paralyzed despite the dangers around him and he’s only drawn back to the present when arms suddenly wrap around him. He feels a painful spike of panic stab through his chest as he fears he is being attacked once more, but he is suddenly wrapped into a tight embrace.

“Ratau! You’re ok!” It was his brother, crying tears of relief to know his little brother is still alive. “You can’t be out here, you need to get where it’s safe!” He clings onto Ratau’s hand as he drags him over to the body, using his free hand to pull the spear free with a sound that twists Ratau’s guts up in knots. “Have you seen Hathor anywhere?!” Ratoo suddenly asks his brother. “I can’t find her! I’m scared she might have already been attacked.”

Ratau can’t find his voice to tell him what happened to his lover, or the fact that it’s her fault that this is happening at all. He’s more terrified of the bloodstains already coating his brother’s fur. He already has a cut on his left ear as well, but also a painful looking gash across his chest. Ratoo pays no mind to it though as he focuses on his duty to protect the village.

“Come, Ratau!” Ratoo runs off and Ratau finds himself being dragged along with him. “Everyone’s retreating to the center of the village! The outskirts are lost! I just pray that my love has already made it to safety!”

Ratau does as he’s told, running alongside his brother as chaos unfolds around him. His mind is completely blank with horror, but his big brother is here to protect him. He sees many of his neighbors running too, and some are even fighting back. The lumberjack he works with every morning rushes past them in the opposite direction, running towards the danger with his wood axe in hand. Ratoo wasn’t the only one trying to fight back against these monsters.

The heat dies down as Ratau is dragged to the center of the village and in the distance, a hundred or so people seem to be gathered at Karacyth’s house. Ratau is terrified that something must have happened to the elder for everyone to be gathered there, but a voice cuts through the commotion that snaps Ratau out of his shock.

“We need to hand over the lamb! They’ll leave us alone once they get what they want!”

It was the shrew…

“Hathor! Thank goodness you’re safe!” Ratoo cries out in relief, but the moment he lets go of Ratau, the young rat charges forward. Hathor turns around at the sound of her lover's voice with a smile on her face, but that smile morphs into a shocked gasp when she sees Ratau barreling towards her. Launching himself through the air and throwing his arms wide, Ratau tackles the shrew to the ground, knocking the wind out of her so he could explain himself before she could spew more lies.

“I saw her out in the woods!” He shouts to everyone who stares at him in shock. “She brought these people to our village! She was going to hand the lamb over to them but she led these monsters right to our home! All of this is her fault!”

“Ratau!” A hand grabs the back of his shoulder and pulls him upright, allowing Hathor to go free. Spinning around, his heart sinks when he finds his brother looking down at him with a horrified expression. “What are you talking about?! She would never do that! She knows the same as all of us how dangerous the Old Faith is! She would never willingly go to them! What were you even doing in-”

“Ask her!” Ratau demands, pointing an accusing finger at the shrew as she pushes herself back to her feet. “She has been lying to you, Ratoo! She thinks Karacyth is a senile old man and was more than willing to kill a child for safety! The child you saved! Ask her! Let’s see if she lies to you again!”

Ratoo looks furious with him, but he looks to Hathor anyways, waiting for her response. Everyone else does too. Some of them might have agreed that getting rid of the lamb was the best course of action, but none of them would ever go against the elder’s decision or directly contact the Old Faith to do it. She looks at everyone as they stare her down, but her eyes linger on Ratoo. Her eyes start to water and she turns her head down to avoid meeting her lover’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ratoo.” She mumbles and Ratoo lets out a pained, breathless gasp. “I was… I was just trying to help the village. I never meant fo-”

“You were just trying to help yourself!” Ratau barks. “You didn’t care about what anyone else thought! You were inconvenienced and you were willing to kill a child just to feel better!” Ratau feels his blood boil with rage, but the sound of a house collapsing in on itself as the flames consume it whole gets him to move. “Out of my way, I need to make sure Karacyth is alright!”

Rushing past the shrew, he moves to open Karacyth’s door. He sends one look over his shoulder before stepping inside and that one look nearly causes grief to strangle him.

Ratoo looks absolutely devastated. The woman he loved and thought he could trust has betrayed not only him, but the entire village. This wasn’t a simple argument or a lover’s quarrel, this is life and death. Hathor has doomed the whole village that Ratoo was sworn to protect.

Ratau closes the door behind him, unable to see his brother in such a state. He’ll do his best to try and help his brother through the heartbreak, but there was a much more immediate disaster they needed to survive first.

“Karacyth?!” Ratau calls out, searching through the house. The curtains are all drawn, leaving most of the interior in darkness, but a few candles here and there light the way for him as he makes his way to the bedroom. Pushing it open, he hears a startled cry from the corner of the room.

Squinting his eyes to see through the dark, he finds the elder trying to console the young lamb who wails in his arms, crying out for help as the noise outside overwhelms them.

“Please, young one.” Karacyth tries in vain to stop their crying, gently petting their soft wool. “It will be alright.”

“Karacyth!” Ratau hurries over to the corner, terrifying the young lamb, but when they turn to see who it is, their breath hitches with relief when they see it’s just him. “Are you two alright? Are you hurt at all?” The lamb reaches out and clings onto him, only to be startled when they notice the blood. The sight of his injuries gets the lamb crying again, but he’s just relieved to see that there was no blood on them.

“Ratau…” Karacyth speaks up, his voice tired and warbley. “I do not think I will be escaping this…” Ratau’s breath catches in his throat at the elder’s words. The elder looks up at him with a proud look in his eyes. “These old bones will not carry me far. You must take the lamb and go. Go far away, somewhere safe.”

“No no no, what about you?!” Ratau shakes his head. “You’re not just gonna sit here, are you?! What would we do without you? Come on, get up!”

“I will just slow you.” Karacyth shakes his head. “And I intend to slow them for as long as I can to allow you to escape.” The owl tries to rise to his feet, causing the lamb to hop off his lap to allow him to move. Ratau and the lamb work to help the elder upright, but once he’s on his feet, he looks unsteady. He rests a hand on his chest and the other down to the lamb to hold their hand. “My usefulness to this village has long passed. In these lands, old men such as I are useful only for sacrifices.”

“Karacyth…” Ratau starts to choke up.

“Though I do not aim to die for the benefit of cruel, uncaring gods.” Karacyth shakes his head. “I will die to guarantee you are able to run free, to live your life until you are as old and gray as I. I will die in defiance of the Old Faith.”

The commotion outside grows louder. Screams and shouts sound out from just outside the window, they’re running out of time. The lamb tries to hide behind Karacyth for safety, but the owl pushes them towards Ratau instead. He can’t leave him though. Karacyth has done everything for Ratau, there is no kinder man alive in this world. He can’t leave him, he refuses to leave him!

“No! Not him! Anyone but him!” Ratau’s blood runs cold when he hears Hathor cry out outside. There’s only one person that the shrew gives an ounce of care about. Is Ratoo alright?! Ratau steps to the door, his fear for his brother stealing the air from his chest as he pulls away from the lamb to try and rescue his brother.

The moment he steps away, the floor which he stood upon only moments ago suddenly erupts.

Ratau is thrown to the floor as splinters and chunks of the floorboards pelt his back. The lamb cries out once again, but the elder now joins them too. Ratau pushes himself up and turns to find a large, thorny vine rapidly growing through the floor and coiling into the room, crushing everything in its path. It lurches towards Ratau suddenly, forcing him to jump back as it smashes into the wall beside him, punching a hole straight through it leading out to the burning village outside.

“No!” Karacyth cries out, his quiet resignation to death now replaced with mind bending terror. “Not him! What have we done to incur his wrath directly?!”

“Karacyth!” Ratau tries to get back to the elder and the lamb, but the vines ripping through the house suddenly constrict towards the both of them, ripping through the house and forcing them both into a corner. The whole roof sags as the building starts to lose its structural integrity.

“Run boy!” Karacyth calls out, kneeling down and holding the lamb tight as the vines continue to close in on them. “Flee while you can! Run!”

The roof buckles, the windows shatter, the lamb’s cries down out Ratau’s own thoughts. He doesn’t want to leave them both behind, but Ratau sees no option that allows him to escape with his life. Following what he believes to be the elder’s last request, Ratau quickly ducks through the hole in the wall and runs as fast as he can. Seconds later, the house collapses behind him.

Ratau runs without looking back, horrified to find that even more zealots are running around torching the rest of the village. Everything burns, lighting up the night in shades of red and yellow. Smoke snatches the air from his throat as he tries to gasp for breath and the heat threatens to wring out all of his strength. He runs and runs until he’s sure he’s clear enough to send a single look back over his shoulder to see if maybe he can spot his brother in the chaos and reunite with him.

What he sees instead causes him to trip and fall out of shock.

Right in front of the now crumbled ruin of the elder’s home is a tree. A towering behemoth far larger than the trees in the forest surrounding it and adorned with strange gold trinkets dangling from its branches. Black and gold robes hang from its trunk, decorated like the rest of the zealots tearing through the village. Wrapped around the leaves at its tallest point and tied around its branches is a red and black stained cloth with occult symbols. A crown rests at the very top, nestled into its leaves.

The vines that ripped through the house and caused it to collapse now fish through it, snaking beneath the rubble before they find what they’re looking for. Rising from the ruin, the vines are wrapped around the now barely conscious form of the lamb, weakly kicking and bleating out in fear and confusion. The lamb is slowly lifted into the air, being brought up to the tree.

Ratau feels his heart stop in his chest as teeth suddenly appear from beneath the leaves, curled into a wicked smile.

That’s no tree…

Ratau averts his eyes and tries to push back up to his feet, but the sound of crunching bones and a suddenly silenced cry nearly throws him back down to the ground. He just barely manages to catch himself though and he pushes himself to run faster than he’s ever ran in his life. Tears sting at his eyes as horror completely consumes his thoughts once more. He ignores his neighbors cries for help and mercy, he ignores the demands for him to stop and repent. He sprints as fast as possible to the forest to lose himself again, desperate to get away from the terrifying demon behind him.

He throws himself back into the thicket of the woods, going completely blind as he’s plunged into total darkness. The firelight behind him fades as he sprints through the woods, throwing his hands out to hopefully catch himself before he slams into anything. Branches scratch at his face and roots snag his feet, causing him to cry out in pain and fear. That tree was alive! What if these trees try to grab him too?!

Tears flow down his face and sting at the scratches on his cheeks as he runs. He doesn’t know where his brother is, if the elder survived his home collapsing, or if anyone else fled into the woods with him. All he knew for sure was that the lamb was dead. All he could do was blame himself. If he had acted a little sooner, if he didn’t stop to argue with Karacyth, he might have been able to slip away with the lamb in tow to escape to safety, but they’re dead.

He turns his head to look back and the firelight of his burning village is just a yellow speck in the distance obscured by trees. How far is he going to have to run to be safe? Is there anywhere safe out here in the Darkwood?! He just has to keep going. If he keeps moving forward, surely he’ll find another village or someplace safe for him to hide for the night. He just needs to-

He throws his leg out, expecting it to hit solid ground so he could keep pushing himself forward, but his foot finds no purchase. He falls forward and throws his hands out to break his fall, but there’s no ground to catch. Ratau’s tear blurred eyes go wide as he suddenly finds himself in free fall, screaming his lungs out as he desperately flails to find something to hold.

He flips through the air once, twice, and then…

Everything goes dark.

Chapter Text

“Rise, young one. It is not yet time for you to rest.”

Ratau shivers on the ground, curled up and silently sobbing. His head hurts, his chest hurts, everything hurts. His heart lies still in his chest, so weighed down with grief and sorrow that it won’t beat anymore. He’s so cold, but if he lies here for a little longer, maybe death will take him and make it all go away.

“It is not your time to go! Rise to your feet!”

Ratau flinches, shifting around the wet sand he’s lying in. Someone was here? There were only two people he wanted to see, and that didn’t sound like either of them. Ratau curls up deeper into the sand, wanting to rest off the aches in his body.

He gets only a few more seconds of quiet before something suddenly jabs him in the side.

“Aym!”

“We were told to fetch him! He is not cooperating!”

“Stop…” Ratau cries out, curling up even more. “Just leave me here…” What else is he supposed to do? The lamb is dead, Karacyth and Ratoo are probably gone too. He’s…

He’s pretty sure he might already be dead as well.

Ratau attempts to open his eyes, immediately squeezing them back shut as he is blinded by a harsh, white light. He squints, trying to adjust to the light as he slowly unfurls himself from the ball he curled up into.

Straining his eyes, he finds nothing but white all around him, save for a few loose piles of… something creating small hills in the sand and towering trees reaching so far up into the sky that he cannot see the tops of them. He looks down to find he’s in what looks like wet sand, but it seems far too white and clumpy.

Where was he? Is he on a beach? Did he fall into a river and get washed ashore? Where-

“I will not ask again! Rise to your feet, rat!”

Something strikes the sand right beside Ratau’s head, causing him to flinch and forcing him to push himself upright. He gets his hands beneath himself and is startled by how pale the skin on his hands and gray the fur on his arms look. Dark, crusty dry blood covers him and as he rises, he feels a terrible pulsing pain in his head. He brings a hand to his head and is startled when he feels something wet and warm. Pulling his hand back down, it’s now stained bright red. Panic tries to take root in his chest once more, but he is drawn out of it when a black furred hand reaches down to him.

“Have no fear. The pain will quickly fade. Our lord will not have you suffer in his domain.”

Desperate for something to ground him, Ratau reaches out and takes the offered hand and is slowly helped back up onto his feet. He stumbles slightly in the wet sand, but he keeps himself upright as the pain in his head starts to slowly fade. As his thoughts start to clear, he’s able to make more sense of where he is.

Standing in front of him and holding his hand is a stranger wearing white with a dark veil obscuring his face. While he cannot be identified behind the veil, Ratau is able to deduce that he was a cat from the two pointed ears on top of his head. In his other hand is a weapon of some sort, a long staff with a spiked halo atop of it. The stranger sounded like he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older than Ratau.

“Where…” Ratau tries to shake the rest of his delirium away, forcing himself to focus. “Where am I? Who are-”

“We are not here to answer your questions, rat!” Ratau startles and turns to find another cat here. This one, much like the other cat, had a veil over his face too, though he wore black instead of white. In his hands is another staff with a crescent shaped blade at the end. He holds the weapon up with the butt end of it pointed at Ratau, making it clear that he intends to jab him with it.

“Aym!” The white robbed cat calls out in a disapproving tone. “Our master is patient, he will not mind the extra few minutes this young man needs. If he was chosen, I can only imagine how painful his death must have been.”

“Wha?!” Ratau looks back at the white robed cat. Panic tries to form in his chest, but with a sudden jolt, Ratau presses his hand against it and finds it cold and still. He was not mistaken, his heart isn’t beating anymore. Looking down at his pale, bloodied hands, dread consumes him. “I’m… dead?”

“I think the bump on his head has made him slow.” The black robed cat mocks, only for the white robed cat to let go of Ratau’s hand to smack him. “Baal?! For what reason?!”

“This is the Lord’s chosen vessel!” The white robed cat, Baal if Ratau heard correctly, scolds. “He will not take kindly to you berating and hurting he who will one day unbind his chains! Show some respect, Aym!”

“I will show him respect when a crown sits upon his brow.” Aym grumbles, lightly rubbing the arm Baal smacked him in. “I do not see how this rat will save our lord, but I will hold my tongue for now.”

“What is happening?!” Ratau wraps his arms around himself, horrified to learn that the reason he felt so cold was because blood no longer flowed through his veins. “I can’t be dead! I’m still up and talking, I’m still breathing, I’m…”

He tries to think back to the last thing he can remember, but all that comes to him as a crimson blur of fire and bloodshed. He had tried to escape from it, fleeing into the woods to lose himself when… The ravine. His brother had warned him of a ravine to the south of the village. He fell and… Ratau slowly reaches back up to his head again where wet blood still stains his fur. He does not feel pain up there anymore, but his wandering fingers find cut flesh and cracked bone.

He gasps for breath, trying to breathe life back into his chest, but no matter how many times he desperately gulps for air, his heart refuses to beat. He’s a walking corpse! He’s-

A hand suddenly rests on his shoulder. “Do not be afraid.” Baal tells him. “Your time is not yet over. Our lord has given you a second chance. He wishes to speak with you. Please, follow us. We will take you to him.”

Taking his hand once more, Baal turns to lead Ratau through the strange place he washed up on. Aym follows close beside them, taking the lead and marching with purpose as Baal gently leads Ratau forward.

Were these angels? Looking around, Ratau is now able to make more sense of what he’s seeing out here. A thick fog blankets the land and all Ratau can see in any direction is rolling dunes of white sand. Though, the sight of bones and skulls jutting out of the ground and piling high in certain places makes Ratau realize with some horror that this isn’t sand at all but bone dust and ash. What he originally thought were trees when he woke up he now sees are massive iron chains embedded into the earth and reaching all the way up into the heavens.

This was the afterlife. It’s already been confirmed that he’s dead, there’s no other place this could be.

“Is…” Ratau speaks up. “Is my brother here? Karacyth? The lamb I tried to save?!” At the mention of a lamb, both of the cats’ ears flick towards him. Aym only casts a backwards glance before facing forward again, but Baal answers his question.

“Our lord has laid many to rest.” He explains. “We do not know if your people are dead or not, but be assured that if they are here, they are no longer in pain and are enjoying their final rest.”

“I want to see Ratoo again…” Ratau begs, feeling tears sting in his eyes. “I want to know my brother is alright.”

“You will join him in death when your time comes.” Aym calls back in a harsh tone. “Do not waste your time grieving.”

“Aym!” Baal lets Ratau go once more to punch the other cat’s shoulder. “This is why our lord doesn’t let us assist him! I don’t mind your harsh words, but this is not how you should compose yourself around others. You would grieve for me too, do not fault the rat for mourning his own brother.”

Aym rubs his shoulder again and falls silent, lowering his head a little bit in shame. Ratau got the impression from their bickering earlier, but Baal just confirmed it for him, these two were brothers. That still didn’t explain to him what they were though. Were they dead like him? Were these the gods of the afterlife? Who was this lord they kept referring to?

He lets Baal guide him as he loses himself in his thoughts, staring down at his feet as he walks through the wet ash beneath him. Everything happened so fast. Hours before his death, he was playing knucklebones with the elder and playing with the lamb. With each passing hour after that, things only grew worse and worse until everything he knew and cared about was destroyed.

The last memory he has of his brother was seeing him completely heartbroken and devastated to learn that his lover was the one responsible for all of the destruction. Ratau wanted to comfort him, to tell him that things would be alright and that he’d find someone else, but for all he knew, Ratoo’s remains could be scattered out here somewhere in this desert of death. He wants to believe that his brother escaped, that his experience outside of the village kept him from plummeting to his death like an idiot, but the thought of him being betrayed by his lover and losing his little brother was too painful to linger on. Ratau doesn’t know what he wants. He just wants his brother to be happy.

He just wanted the lamb to be happy too, but that… That thing… Karacyth was prepared to stay behind and die to allow Ratau to escape with the lamb, but the vines and that tree thing, it broke him. Ratau had never seen something so large, so powerful, so terrifying. It couldn’t have been a mortal creature, it couldn’t have been a monster from the woods. Ratau’s eyes feel upon a god who personally came to his village to slaughter the lamb.

The two cat brothers stop, forcing Ratau to stop as well and look up from his feet to pay attention.

Despite his heart being dead and still in his chest, it suddenly lodges itself up into his throat and causes a terrified squeak to escape from him.

Towering before him, larger than the demonic tree that attacked his village, larger than anything he can even conceive, a monstrous form leers down at him. Three blood red eyes glare at him from behind a dark veil, and another rests atop its head, a crimson eye painted on a black crown much like the one resting atop the tree monster. The figure is bound head to toe in the same thick chains that litter the afterlife, holding it in place, though it fights against their grip. Skeletal hands drenched in dripping black blood reach out for him, pulling the chains taut.

Ratau falls backwards in a panic, tripping over himself and landing on his back. He curls up into a ball, covering his head and trying to make himself as small as possible. Not even in death is he safe from the gods! Is he about to be punished for his crime of caring for the lamb?!

“Prostrate yourself before your lord, rat!” Aym demands, jabbing the end of their staff into the ground beside him. “His vessel should not cower in the face of death!”

Ratau remains curled up, praying that maybe if he sits perfectly still he won’t be seen. That thing is beyond anything he can comprehend. He’s been told the stories, but never would he imagine he’d be lying before a god.

“Please pick yourself back up.” Baal asks. “We did not drag you here to hurt you, we-”

“Silence.” A new voice reaches Ratau’s ears, one that is loud enough to rattle the bones in the desert around them. It’s strained and raspy, the sound alone conveys years, possibly centuries of age and agony. The two cats who brought Ratau suddenly fall silent and opening his eyes, he sees them both quickly bow their heads and fall to their knees. They set their staffs aside and rest their hands in their lap, and while Baal closes his eyes in silent prayer, Aym peeks out from beneath his veil, glaring at Ratau with a scarred eye in a non verbal demand to follow suit.

Ratau rolls himself over until he’s on his knees and places his hands and head on the ground, prostrating himself in front of the divine being. His whole body shakes with fear. He isn’t even sure if he has anything to fear, he’s already dead, but he has no idea what the gods are capable of. All he can do is pray that he can appease this god so that it may show mercy on him.

He flinches once more when the thing speaks again, this time to him directly.

“Rat…” Ratau risks peeking up at the beast, staring up at the blood soaked robes it wears but not daring to meet its eyes again. “Look at me, rat…” Ratau raises his head a little higher, pushing himself off the ground slightly when he’s unable to crane his neck back enough to meet the god’s eyes. When he finally does, he sits petrified beneath its blood red gaze, shuddering as viscous, oily blood drips past the veil and into the stained sands beneath it. “Are you afraid?” It speaks, a horrifying rattle sounding from within its throat as it does.

“Y-yes!” Ratau answers. Ratoo had always taught him to be honest and to speak his mind. He prays that this being won’t judge him too harshly for his honest words.

“Are you sad?” It asks next, its breath hitching in its chest. The question catches Ratau off guard, and for a moment his fear eases up. This god is bound in chains and is clearly in pain. It’s leaning forward and looming over him, but it cannot move any closer. “Answer me.” The fear comes back when it speaks again, its three eyes narrowing as it awaits a response. “Do you feel grief in your heart?”

“Y… yes.” Ratau nods, his mind falling back on the family and friends he lost. “Do… Do you know if my brother is ok?! Elder Karacyth?! Anyone?!” The three eyes stare at him in silence, giving him no answer. “Please…” Ratau lowers his head. “I want to see them again. I don’t know what to do without them…”

“Are you angry?” The god asks and Ratau raises his head again to meet its eyes. “Does rage burn in your chest? Do thoughts of revenge cloud your mind?”

Yes. He’s frustrated, furious, absolutely livid over the state of things. He’s angry at Hathor for her betrayal, angry at himself for failing to act fast enough, disgusted by the actions of the monster that took the lamb’s life.

But right now, at this second, he feels fury building against something else.

“What do you want from me!” Ratau demands from the monster, startling the two cats kneeling beside him. “I just lost everything! You monsters took everything from me including my life! What else do I have to give you?! All this over a lamb?! A child?! I hate you! I hate all of you monstrous gods! I have nothing for you to take, strike me down if you want, I don’t care anymore!”

Ratau feels tears sting in his eyes as he stares back up at the monster. He didn’t know if he was standing before one of the bishops that Karacyth warned him about, but he didn't care. He hates this thing, he hates the monster that killed the lamb, he hates the mere idea that the lambs were dangerous which was spread by the Old Faith to facilitate their slaughter. He wants to dismantle it, to bring some semblance of justice to the world for the horrible things done to his friends who did no wrong. He stares the beast in front of him down, waiting for it to break its chains to smite him for daring to speak back or for the cats beside him to slaughter him for blasphemy just as the zealots from the woods did to his neighbors.

Instead, Ratau sees the gods face split open in a smile, rows and rows of bloodstained, sharpened teeth revealing themselves from behind the dark veil.

“You will do.” It speaks with a pleasant sounding rumble from within its chest. It leans back, its chains clinking together as it settles back down with a pained groan. It coughs, splattering the sand in front of Ratau’s feet with ichor. “You will make a fine vessel.”

“What?” Ratau stumbles back, his flaring emotions being smothered by confusion. “What do you want from me!” He demands again. “You’re the one who’s keeping me from death, aren’t you? Why? Why won’t you let me rest?”

“Because you are of more use to me alive.” The beast explains. “You cannot dismantle the Old Faith from the grave, can you?” Ratau gasps. How did it- “I saw everything, rat.” It continues, snickering to itself with scratchy laughter. “I saw your whole world burn to ash, your people slaughtered, my lamb snuffed out. Just as I had hoped, you are angry, you want to bring justice to those monstrous bishops, and luckily for you, I want those traitors dead as well. We both mourn for the loss of the lamb, so I would like to propose a deal.”

Ratau takes another step back. “What are you proposing?” He asks. He didn’t think he’d actually get this far after speaking out against a god, but hearing that it too cared for the lamb brought a lot of implications with it. Who was this god? Why did it hate the bishops? It was clearly in pain and chained down, are the bishops punishing it? Are the bishops slaughtering the lambs specifically to harm it?

“Young rat.” The god leans forward again, hissing in pain as its chains dig into what little flesh still clings to its skeletal form, spilling more blood into the sand. “Just as you have been wronged by the Old Faith, I have too. I am bound here, their own brother, once one of their circle, unfairly punished for trying to disrupt their rigid and cruel order. I share your rage, though I cannot get my revenge in this state. You, however, can.”

Ratau lets the weight of the request settle, but as he does, a memory suddenly comes to him. Karacyth mentioned that his elders had spoken of a fifth bishop, one who’s been wiped away from history. This beast, he is the fifth bishop! Ratau wishes he had asked for more information, but he wishes he could speak to Karacyth at all anymore. His elders remembered a time before the cruelty of the Old Faith, before the slaughter of the lambs. With what little he knows, not even gods are safe from the bishops’ cruelty.

“How can I help?” Ratau asks, desperate to do something to combat the cruelty of the Old Faith, but… “I couldn’t protect any of my friends. I died trying to run for my life. If they can imprison gods, what am I supposed to do about it?”

The forgotten bishop’s face splits into another bloody smile as he leans back once more to ease the force of the chains pulling against him. They don’t allow for much give, but once he is centered, he raises his boney arms up into the air. The crown resting on his head rises with the motion, floating up into the air before slowly being lowered down. Halfway to the ground, the god coughs, spewing more black ichor and causing the crown to fall as he tries and fails to cover his mouth before the chains hold his arms back.

The crown falls into the sand, partially covered in the gods blood.

“I cannot fight them.” The god croaks, sucking in a desperate breath between his fits which rattles in his chest. “My siblings could not grant me that which I hold domain over, but that didn’t stop them from trying. I am wounded, bound, forever trapped as long as they still live, but I am not powerless. The Red Crown, the source of my power. I bestow it to you.”

“What?!” Ratau gasps, staring down at the crown in the sand. “I… I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Even with whatever power it could give me, I’m one against thousands!”

“The Old Faith’s numbers are countless, but you need not fight this crusade alone.” The god wheezes, lifting his hands once more to lift the crown out of the sand. “I was scrubbed from the annals of history, my temples and shrines desecrated. They took my devotion for their own, but if you were to rekindle that devotion, both of us would rise in power again.”

“You want me to build you a temple?” Ratau asks, watching as the crown is slowly floated towards him.

“I wish for you to start a cult in my name.” The god demands. “You are not the only one who fears or despises the Old Faith, so I choose you to usher in the new one. Convert everyone you find, start a community of your own outside of the Old Faith’s rule, channel their fear of the old gods into faith in me and together we will cleanse this world of their tyrannical reign.”

The crown comes within reach and Ratau holds his hands out for the crown to fall into his waiting grasp. It seems much smaller now than it did when it was on the god’s head. It is lightweight and made of some sort of smooth, dark material as black as the god’s blood. Two prongs rest atop of it, reminding him somewhat of cat ears. He looks down at it, and it looks back up at him with a crimson eye. He yelps and drops it in a panic when the eye blinks at him, but before the crown can hit the ground, it stops mid air before quickly floating back up and hovering in front of him. Ratau takes it again, holding it out at arms length as he stares it down.

Just holding it, he can feel an incredible power radiating from it. Heat flows down his arms and within his chest, he can feel his heart beating again with righteous fervor.

“If I’m to start a cult in your name, I need to know it, don’t I?” Ratau says, looking up at the imprisoned god. “What are your teachings? Who are we praying to?”

“The One Who Waits.” Baal suddenly announces to his right.

“He who awaits us all.” Aym follows up at his left.

“You already know who I am.” The god informs, attempting to relax and letting his body go slack to ease the pain of the chains pulling against him. “You wished for me when you first woke. You prayed for comfort, a painless end, to be reunited with those you lost. That is the comfort I grant, that is the domain that I rule over.”

“I am Death, and you are now my Reaper.”

At the god’s word, the crown in Ratau’s hand suddenly flies up out of his grasp and places itself upon his head.

Ratau gasps and sits himself up. His heart pounds in his chest and his eyes burn as he’s blinded by sunlight. Cold water rushes against his feet and he quickly scrambles backwards into warm sand as he tries to make sense of where he is.

He finds himself at the bottom of a deep gash in the earth. Two towering walls of rock border a small stream which cuts through the forest, flowing off to places unknown. Examining the location a little closer, a few jutting rocks lie at the bottom of the ravine with him and to his horror, there’s a sizable dark stain in the sand not far from where he’s sitting. Ratau pats himself down, terrified that it might be his blood. He brings his hand up to his left ear, hissing a little bit in pain, but the wound has scarred over. He brings his hand up a little higher and…

Reaching both of his hands up, he gets a firm grasp of something resting on top of his head. Bringing it down in front of him, his eyes go wide when they meet with the singular crimson eye of the Red Crown. His heart goes still in his chest, but seemingly by the will of the crown, there’s a sudden surge that runs up his arms and into his torso, forcing it to beat again. He tries to drop it out of shock, but the crown does not fall once he lets go of it and it instead returns to his head.

Ratau scrambles to his feet, his mind now racing. For a moment he believed that maybe all of that was some kind of horrible dream, but there’s no mistaking that this is his blood and that this is the crown the god had bestowed upon him. He feels no pain at all and looks down at himself to make sure he isn’t still injured from the fall and is startled to find that his old vest has been replaced with a thick red fleece adorned in occult symbols.

It occurs to him just how tall of an order he just signed up for. Though… Did he really have a choice? It was servitude or death. Looking up at the sheer cliff wall he fell down, he wonders how he’s supposed to get back up when he sees something contrasting against the blue early morning sky.

Smoke.

His village!

Looking up and down the ravine, he tries to find a way to get back up there to check for survivors. He’s terrified of the new responsibilities thrust upon him, especially the godlike powers he’s been granted, but the reason this power was given to him was to dismantle the Old Faith. If anyone is left of his home village, if any of his friends or neighbors survived, maybe they can help him. He isn’t sure how he’s going to start a cult, but surely once everyone sees the divine power that brought him back to life, that enabled him to come back and save them, they will see that there is a merciful god that deserves their worship.

He runs upstream, hoping that maybe he can find his way up. If this is the same stream that he saw out in the woods where Hathor met up with the fanatics, he should be able to find his way back home. He runs along the stream, slowly climbing uphill as he does, keeping his eyes on the smoke in the sky so he doesn’t lose himself.

After several minutes of full on sprinting, he’s surprised to find that he isn’t winded at all. Fear for his friends and family leaves an uncomfortable weight in his chest that no amount of air can alleviate, but his exertion does not tire him. He pushes himself to run faster, following the stream and waiting for a burning in his legs, but that burn never comes. He’s able to maintain this breakneck pace all the way up the stream until he’s out of the ravine.

If it weren’t for the grief in his heart, he might have actually been excited about this development, but he does not have time to enjoy his sudden supernatural endurance. Out of the ravine and back into the woods, he rushes through it with relative ease now that it’s bright enough for him to actually see. He leaps over the rocks and roots beneath him and ducks under the low hanging branches of the trees, maintaining his speed and following the scent of smoke as he hurries back home.

He prays that there are still survivors. He prays that his brother is still alive and well. If those prayers go unanswered, if he finds nothing but ruin…

He prays The One Who Waits grants them peace in the afterlife.

He pushes himself to run faster, his heart unable to handle the rising dread building up within him. The trees start to thin out, the clearing comes into view. He pushes himself even harder, moving at a speed he isn’t even sure is possible for mere mortals…

Only to fall to his knees once he escapes the woods and everything comes into view.

All his life, he’s only ever known this one clearing. Last night when he followed Hathor through the woods was the furthest he ever went from home. He knew this place like the back of his hand, he knew every person who lived in it, but looking out at it now…

The grass and surrounding trees are burnt black and coated in a fine layer of ash. The homes that made up the village, some of which he had a hand in building, are collapsed, hollow shells of what they once were. Not a single building still stands. He wants to check if anything remains of his own home, but he isn’t sure if his heart will be able to take seeing the house he spent his entire life in reduced to nothing.

His heart is already threatening to break at the sight of his fallen friends.

Bodies litter the ground, lying motionless in the dirt. Some wear the dark and gold hoods of the Old Faith, but their fallen are vastly outnumbered by the corpses of the innocent people they attacked. Ratau can see the lumberjack he worked with, the strongest man Ratau had ever known, lying motionless before three fallen zealots, one with an axe lodged in their back. He can see the kind baker who would always give him and Ratoo sweets for being so polite and helping in the kitchen. He can see the village doctor sprawled out on the ground beside the baker, the contents of his doctor's bag spilled out onto the grass.

Tears sting at his eyes, his heart threatens to split in two, but he pushes himself to his feet to keep searching. He needs to see if his brother is among the fallen. He needs to see if anyone survived this massacre.

He stumbles through the smoldering ruins of his village, his feet knowing where to go despite every landmark he was used to being reduced to nothing. As he walks, his eyes glaze over the bodies in the grass around him, checking them all off in his mind as he walks. The rabbit who worked the farms, the young hedgehog who chopped wood for him whenever he was too sick to work. For every body he passes, he mumbles a silent prayer to the god he now serves, begging him to give them the peace they deserve.

He moves on autopilot until he suddenly comes to a stop at Karacyth’s house. Unlike the rest of the homes, this one is not burnt. The horrifying monster that tore into the home to fish the lamb out of it did not need fire to completely destroy it. The body of the lamb is not here, but Ratau can see where their blood was spilled. He tries his best not to think about how terrifying their last moments were and instead tries to focus on Karacyth’s words. Their last days were spent among friends who cared for them like family. Once again, Ratau prays to the one below that they’re in a better place now.

With shaking hands, Ratau kneels down and tries to sift through the rubble. The last he saw of Karacyth, he was still in this house when it collapsed. He isn’t among the bodies scattered around the village, this is the only place he can think to look. He shoves aside the splintered support beams of the house with surprising ease, discovering yet another power the crown on his head grants him, but once more he is unable to be excited over his newfound strength as he searches for the elder.

He throws aside the broken foundations, the collapsed roof tiles, the supporting logs that held everything together. He manages to upturn almost everything that was left of the house and despite how thorough his search is, he finds nothing. Karacyth isn’t here.

As frightening as his absence is, it gives him the smallest shred of hope. If he isn’t here, he might still be alive.

He searches around the immediate area, looking for any sign of the elder. A shed feather, a trail of blood, anything that might reveal to him where the old man is. He combs through the village, and while it pains him to find so many dead, he knows this isn’t everyone. To his utter relief, Ratoo isn’t among the dead. He’s experienced enough, he saved his life the moment he returned to the village. Ratau prays his older brother has escaped to somewhere safe, maybe with the rest of the survivors of the village.

He clings to that hope. It’s the only thing he has left of this place.

He returns back to Karacyth’s home, continuing to search through the rubble. Everyone trusted that old bird as the wisest of the village. Maybe buried in the rubble somewhere is a map to another safe place in case of a disaster like this. Maybe Karacyth left a sign in his home for anyone who survived to follow him. Maybe…

Tossing aside the broken table in what once was the living room, Ratau freezes at the sight of the small wooden statuette. He kneels down and picks it up, trying to steady his hands as he holds it.

The lamb loved this little toy. It wasn’t Ratau’s greatest work, it looked nothing like his brother and there are several points where the arms or torso has large divots in it where he accidentally cut too deep, but the lamb never let go of the thing. With how quickly the lamb grew attached to Ratau, Karacyth suggested that they might have thought the statue was supposed to depict him instead of his brother.

He swears, he’ll never let another innocent lamb get hurt if he can help it. If those bishops want to hurt his friends and family, they’ll have to go through him first.

The crown on his head suddenly floats off his brow, hovering in front of him and flipping upside down. Leaning forward, he finds a dark void within its hollow, something which the eye on the crown seems to be drawing attention to. Hesitantly, Ratau holds the statuette over the void and lets it go. It vanishes into the darkness of the crown before it flips right-side up and returns to Ratau’s head. He reaches up and takes it off to look inside, peering into its dark depths. He reaches his hand into it, afraid that it might bite or sever something, but nothing stops him as he’s able to reach his entire arm into the small headpiece. Reaching around, his hands brush up against the statuette. Satisfied that it will be safe in the crown, Ratau returns it to its place to continue his search. Yet another useful ability the crown granted him.

He thinks he’ll hold onto it until he meets another lamb. He’s not sure when or if he’ll find another one, but he hopes they appreciate the gift as much as the kid he cared for did.

Searching through Karacyth’s old home produces nothing of real use. It was just a ruin, but still, knowing that Karacyth himself wasn’t here means that he might still be safe. The only thing of note he does find is Karacyth’s dice bag. Not wanting to leave it behind, he takes it and puts it in the crown too. He starts to search the rest of the village, desperate to find any possible sign of survivors and to count off the dead. His hold home is ash, but his brother is not buried within it. Hathor, that traitorous shrew, isn’t in her home either. Ratau can’t imagine his brother would still be with her after what happened, but he’s somewhat relieved to know that she escaped. As much as he hated her, he doesn’t wish death on her.

Of the two hundred or so people who used to live here, he counts a hundred and seventy dead so far. At most, maybe a few dozen have managed to escape, but he isn’t even sure of that. He doesn’t know if they made it to safety or if they’ve been taken away somewhere, all he knows is they aren’t here.

He spends hours searching, not just because he’s still desperate for a sign that his friends are still alright, but because he doesn’t know where else to go. This little plot of land is all he knows. How far out is the next settlement? How large is the Darkwood? Is there even a place within walking distance that isn’t under the control of the bishops? He knows so little of the world and while he’s now free to go wherever he wants, he doesn’t want to leave home.

He wanders back to where his house used to be, wishing that he could build it back up, that his brother would wake him in the morning, wishing that-

His train of thought is interrupted by a whistling sound rapidly approaching him. He takes a step back to turn and find its source just as an arrow rips through the air where his head used to be only a second before. He throws himself to the ground, hiding behind what remains of his home’s foundation.

“Found you, rat!” Ratau’s blood runs cold. It couldn’t be… That was the archer that chased him through the woods! He’s still out here?! “Thanks for dodging that one! I don’t want to hit anything vital just yet! Not until after I make you feel the same pain you inflicted onto me!”

Ratau pats himself down, desperate to find his whittling knife, but to his horror, he’s lost it. At some point during the chaos when he arrived in the village, he must have dropped it. Not that it would have done much, but even a two inch blade would be better than nothing.

The Red Crown suddenly rolls off his head and into his hands. He’s about to throw it aside, wanting to rid himself of distractions as he plots out his escape, when the crown suddenly transforms before his eyes. The small headpiece suddenly melts down into a formless shadow, flying to his hand before hardening again. The round, pointed crown suddenly forms into a small handle and its barbs form together into shining silver.

In the span of a second, his crown has become a dagger, its asymmetrical blade gleaming in the sun. The crimson eye that once dominated the crown now stares up at him from the hilt.

This was certainly a much more practical weapon, but the zealot still had range on him. He’d have to get close. Luckily for him, he’s already learned that this crown has granted him some pretty powerful abilities. The archer probably won’t expect the rat he had pinned down to suddenly rush him down.

Steeling himself and adjusting the dagger in his grip. Ratau kicks off the ground and bolts around the corner towards the archer.

The zealot does not have any threats or taunts this time. Ratau cannot see them beneath their hood and beaked mask, but he can see their whole body jolt with shock. He stumbles back, his weight settled on one leg while the other one has a large mass of bandages tied around the ankle. He isn’t going to be running away, all he can do is stay and fight.

Even caught off guard, the zealot is quick to nock an arrow. He’s a monster who has no qualms about murdering innocents, but Ratau has to give credit where it was due, he was fast, and before Ratau could even clear half the distance between them, an arrow flies.

Ratau throws himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the arrow as it whizzes beneath his arm, ripping through his red fleece as he tries to maintain balance. He successfully dodges the projectile, but it kills his momentum. By the time he’s settled on his feet and running again, the archer already nocks and fires another arrow, this one aiming straight for center mass. He’s already closed some distance, he has even less time to react now. Ratau throws his arms up believing that he’s about to be hit, when the dagger in his hand suddenly moves without his input.

In a flash of sparks, the blade of his dagger makes contact with the arrow head, diverting its path at the last second and sending the arrow spiraling off to Ratau’s side.

Ratau stumbles forward in shock, unable to stop his momentum, but the zealot is left completely stunned, his hand frozen halfway over his back to fetch another arrow. With his life still on the line, Ratau returns his focus to the zealot, throwing himself forward to close the distance before he can reach for another arrow or draw his blade.

The zealot is unable to react fast enough, and with impossible speed, Ratau dives down with his hand outstretched and slashes at the zealot’s last good leg, causing him to cry out and collapse. Ratau rolls with the dive, plants his feet down, and quickly runs back to stomp down on the zealot’s arm to keep him from moving or arming himself on the ground. Ratau kneels low, his dagger hanging only inches away from the back of the zealot’s neck.

Ratau’s hands shake, blood drips from the tip of his blade as the zealot tries to hold back his cries of pain. He got him! The only fights Ratau has ever been in were against his brother who always pulled his punches and let him get hits in. This fanatic was trying to kill him, but with the godlike power he was given, Ratau managed to actually take the man down to the ground. He felt invincible! His heart races with adrenaline and pride.

“What’s taking so long?!” The zealot groans out in agony beneath him. “Are you going to leave me out here to bleed?”

Maybe Ratau celebrated a bit too early. He was still breathing, he could still be dangerous.

“Maybe…” Ratau says, pressing the knife against the back of the zealot's neck. “Tell me what I want, and I promise to make it quick.” He turns the same threat the zealot made against him around. Ratau isn’t sure if he has the guts to go through with his threat, but the zealot doesn’t have many options here. “There are people missing from this village, where are they?”

“You think I know?!” The zealot hisses. “I only came out here to pick off the stragglers! Your friends are probably being dragged off to be sacrificed before Lord Leshy! Their bodies will become nothing more than fertilizer for our crops!”

“Where!” Ratau demands, rage threatening to make him plunge the dagger down into the zealots back. “Where would they be taken?!”

“You wish to join them?” The zealot growls. “You caught me by surprise, rat. The others will string you up and make an example of you. In fact, I pray that you let me live so that I might one day see the grisly display that they make of you.” Ratau lets the dagger fall, cutting through the fabric of the zealot’s cloak and allowing him to feel the cold silver on the back of his neck. “To the north!” The zealot barks. “My brothers and sisters gathered to the north several miles away in another clearing. It is a sacred place, for it holds the gates to a forbidden temple, bound in chains by the bishops themselves. If you are so eager to die by their hands, then venture north and taste their steel.”

To the north…

Glancing up at the now setting sun to orient himself, Ratau faces off into the woods to the north. He has no idea how far he’ll have to run, or what other dangers the woods might hold for him, but he can’t stay here. This place is a ruin, its people are dead, and the bishops are out there somewhere terrorizing other communities just like this one. Ratau wants to stay behind, to rebuild his home, to give everyone here a proper burial, but he has to move on.

He stares down at the eye in the hilt of his dagger and it stares back up at him. All he can do is pray that The One Who Waits will grant his fallen friends peace as he tries to save the rest of his friends from meeting the same fate.

Now that the zealot has granted him all the information he needs, Ratau leans over and grabs his bow, stepping off of him and snapping the weapon over his knee. He lets it fall and starts to walk towards the woods. His dagger leaves his hand and he watches as it dissolves into shadow before returning to his head as the Red Crown.

“Hey!” The zealot calls out for him, hissing in pain as he tries to twist himself around on the ground to face him. “You’re actually going to leave me here to bleed?!”

“You didn’t show these people mercy, why should I?” Ratau says, glaring back at the zealot with fury in his heart. “Besides, didn’t you want to live in hopes of seeing me slaughtered by your friends? I am showing you mercy.” Ratau turns to face the incapacitated zealot. “The worst your gods can do is kill me. I doubt mine will let you off easy.”

“Your god?” The zealot scrutinizes Ratau, but after a moment, he seems to lose a lot of his fight and his body goes slack. “Wait a minute… That… That crown.” Ratau glances up, trying to get a peek at the Red Crown on his head. “The shrine in front of the sealed temple… That’s the same crown! Where did… Who… What gave you that?!”

Genuine fear fills the zealot's voice. This was a man who worshiped and directly worked with one of the four bishops who chained The One Who Waits down in the depths below. This man served true monsters, but the thought of there being a god that directly opposes him fills him with true terror.

“If no one comes to help you, you’ll meet him soon enough.” Ratau says, turning his back on the zealot to march towards the woods. “I’m going to introduce the rest of your friends to him now.”

“Wait!” Ratau tries to ignore the zealot, knowing he can’t do anything to stop him, but he’s forced to stop when the fanatic screams out in pain. Turning around, he finds him desperately trying to push to his feet despite his legs and ankles being too damaged to hold his weight. “Did I say north?! I meant south! Everyone gathers south of this clearing!” He collapses again, worsening his wounds as he puts weight on them. He reaches for the arrows in the quiver on his back, but with no bow to fire them with, he resorts to trying to throw the arrows at Ratau. They don’t make it anywhere close to him.

Ratau quickens his pace, quickly running into the woods to escape the desperate cries of the zealot behind him. Despite everything that monster did, despite the fact that he tried to kill him only moments ago, Ratau can’t help but feel rattled seeing him act out like that.

There was no doubt in his mind that the bishops were cruel monsters, but for their own to fear The One Who Waits that much… What if he was…

Ratau shakes his head. There’s no room for doubt. He was granted life and power by The One Below, power that can save others and help him end this tyranny. He needed to have faith in his new lord and spread that faith to others. He needs to have faith…

Venturing back out into the woods, he says goodbye to the only home he ever knew and wanders into the unknown on his lonesome, content with the knowledge that The One Who Waits is watching over him and counting on him to end the rule of the Old Faith.

Chapter Text

Every step away from home fills Ratau with renewed grief.

A day ago, he would have been beyond excited to leave home, to explore the lands just out of reach and to see the world, but knowing that he no longer had a home to return to stripped all the joy this mission into the woods would have granted him. His brother isn’t here beside him, pointing out the dangers or showing him the paths he takes. Karacyth isn’t waiting at home, eagerly waiting to hear about his adventure and what he found. He isn’t allowed to take in the scenery or stop to pick the camellias, he needs to stay vigilant and to keep moving before the sun sets on him completely.

He hopes he’ll be able to relax soon. He wants to enjoy his time out here, he wants to see what other boons his newly gifted crown gave him, but every second he wastes could be another one of his friends killed at the hands of the bishops. Hell, he wishes he had time to just look at the crown. It fascinated him beyond belief. Was it a sentient thing? Was it a physical piece of The One Who Waits? Was it his new lord who armed him and deflected that arrow? The bishop that he saw attack his home also wore a crown, could theirs do this too?

He had so many questions. He didn’t even fully understand what was required of him as a vessel for the Red Crown. How is he supposed to start a cult?! He’s never preached before and Karacyth was adamant that the Old Faith was never discussed within the village lest they draw their attention. He wants to speak with The One Who Waits again now that he has a clearer head. He has no reason to fear the beast anymore and he’d be able to get a better understanding on how to serve his lord.

He marches through the woods with purpose, forcing himself through the thicket and pushing through the tall grass and rough terrain to make sure he doesn’t lose his direction and continues north. The sun is getting low in the sky and he’s afraid that he won’t be able to reach the clearing before darkness fully falls. He’s been given great power, but he’s still afraid of getting lost in the dark.

He pushes onwards, bracing himself to jump over a rock in his direct path, when a slight jingle stops him in his tracks.

He’s been constantly listening for any sign of danger out here, knowing that his hearing is what saved him from being killed by the archer. He’s heard the gurgle of streams, the tweeting of birds, the chitter of rodents as they scampered across the forest floor and crinkled through the leaves. What he’s hearing now though isn’t something natural.

The sound of metal clinking together lightly, a quiet jingle that sounds with the wind. A wind chime?

Ratau follows the sound, deviating slightly from his path but making sure to take note of landmarks so he can reorient himself and continue north. While he’s curious, he also remains incredibly cautious. Seemingly taking notice of his anxiousness, the crown suddenly falls from his head and morphs into a dagger before resting in his hands. He doubts this is something that warrants drawing a weapon, but having a blade between him and whatever he’s approaching does help ease his worries somewhat.

His ears eventually lead him to a sudden break in the trees and dangling from the branches high above him, Ratau finds the source of the noise. Tied to the branches with thinly woven threads, several golden depictions of stars and celestial bodies sway gently in the wind, drawing him closer to the small break in the thicket. The trees and leaves block out most of the light, but some sunlight just barely manages to get through, gleaming off the golden trinkets.

It puts Ratau’s mind at ease. This place does not scream danger at him. This is an invitation.

Dropping the dagger and allowing it to return to his head as his crown, Ratau steps forward beneath the twinkling stars above him and into the clearing. Now out of the thicket, Ratau finds himself facing the back of a large tent where a fire burns nearby. He approaches it slowly, his eyes darting around to see if anyone is nearby waiting for him. Once he makes it to the front of the tent, he’s startled somewhat to find someone is sitting inside, paying him no mind.

An incredibly large figure rests inside, his head held low as he appears to be sleeping. Ratau is able to immediately clock him as an owl and his heart soars as he believes he might have found Karacyth, but that excitement quickly fades. This owl’s feathers are a vibrant red instead of the light brown of his elder’s. Still, this is an exciting moment for Ratau. This is the first person he’s met outside of his home and to his relief he does not seem to wear any insignia of the Old Faith. Ratau opens his mouth to try and wake the old bird to introduce himself, but he’s startled when the owl speaks first.

“Greetings, Ratau; newly chosen vessel of He Who Waits Below.” The old owl slowly raises his head. Ratau is unable to see his face beneath the pointed hood he wears.

“How…” Ratau stumbles back, unsure if he should arm himself or not. “How do you know who I am? How do you even know about me being chosen?! It hasn’t even been a day!”

“Our meeting has been foretold for many years.” The owl says, bowing his head again. “The cards predicted my meeting with your lord years ago, and I am to meet your successor years later.” The owl’s words leave Ratau stunned for a moment. “Please, sit.” The owl asks. “It has been many years since I have been visited by one who the cards have taken interest in. I am eager to draw your fortune.”

Ratau is hesitant, but after a few moments of silent debate, Ratau sits on the small rug the owl had in front of his tent, taking notice of the deck of cards resting between them. As strange as this bird is, he doesn’t seem dangerous. This is the first friendly face Ratau has ever seen outside of home and he seems to know quite a bit, even things he shouldn’t know.

“Are you a god too?” Ratau questions. Not much of the strange man is visible beneath his bright red feathers and hood, but his beak looks brittle and black with age and the hands curled up on his lap look almost skeletal.

“A question I am asked by many…” The owl hums. “I am not, though I once served gods and the cards inform me I will continue to. There are not many left and prophecy dictates that more will fall. Seeing the crown on your head, perhaps it is you who will slay those who remain.”

“Who are you then?” Ratau asks. All this talk of gods and prophecy, could this maybe be someone on his side? Another soul who was saved by The One Who Waits?

“Clauneck, a fortune teller.” Clauneck bows his head in greeting and Ratau does the same. “Much like you, I was chosen for a holy task. The cards call to me and it is my duty to read the fortunes and grant the power the cards hold to divine beings. As the bearer of the Red Crown, fortune now favors you. Would you like me to draw your cards?”

“What are we playing?” Ratau asks, looking at the deck that rests on the rug in front of him. He prefers dice games over card games, but he isn’t sure when he’ll get another chance to have fun.

Clauneck laughs. It’s a pleasant sound, but it’s bittersweet. He sounds so much like Karacyth. “This is no game, young one.” Clauneck says, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “These are not playing cards. They are Tarot cards. These cards do not display numbers and faces, but futures, pasts, and secrets you are yet to uncover.”

“How do they do that?” Ratau asks, scratching his head.

“Would you like to see?” Clauneck offers. Ratau nods his head, his eyes on the cards. With a smile, Clauneck slowly reaches a bony hand out to the deck of cards, resting his fingers on top of it for a few seconds before drawing one and placing it down on the rug. “Death’s door, inverse.”

“Is…” Ratau looks at the image on the card. “Is that good? Am I winning?”

“You were denied death.” Clauneck explains, resting his hand on the card. “While many would consider what happened to you miraculous and a blessing, do not let complacency settle. One's truest ability and character comes out when knocking on death's door, but you will never go knocking.”

Ratau stares down at the card in confusion as the owl reaches for another. Why is it upside down, or are they just right side up for the owl? He’s only left with more questions when the next card the owl draws is right side up. Before the fortune teller can even speak, Ratau feels a shiver at the sight of the card.

“The deal.” Clauneck says with a grim tone. “It is clear you have already sworn yourself to The One Below, but beware the unforeseen costs. Power has a price, though… Perhaps this is not in relation to your crown. Perhaps there is another contract that you will sign. Heed the card's warning, read the fine print, lest the costs outweigh whatever you hope to gain from your agreement.”

“These cards sound bad…” Ratau whines.

“Fortune is a fickle thing.” Clauneck hums in agreement. “I once drew for the gods you hunt, as well as the god you now serve. Prophecy and fortune are not set in stone, destiny is not immutable, I have seen it myself, but so many fall into the same traps. These cards are not a perfect reading of your future, you can change the fates they foretell, but trying to fight against fortune could lead you into the very disasters you try to avoid.”

“This all sounds so complicated!” Ratau grumbles. Things were so much simpler yesterday, back when all he had to worry about was not getting splinters while working and whether or not Karacyth would want to play or force him to do more chores.

“Even the gods struggle.” Clauneck assures him. “But we are not done. You still have one more card.” Ratau watches with growing worry as Clauneck reaches for one more card from the deck. So far his fortune has been pretty bad and full of warnings. What’s the next card going to predict, his death? Drawing the card and placing it down, Clauneck lets out a surprised noise. “Diseased heart, inverse.”

“Oh that sounds really bad.” Ratau pouts.

“On the contrary,” Clauneck interrupts, “This turns everything in your favor.” Ratau perks up at that, paying a bit more attention. “I have not drawn this card often, at least, not inverted. Corruption plagues the hearts of almost all who seek and attain divinity. Their cruelty poisons and harms everyone around them, but you… Despite the crown on your head, despite the terrible power at your command and the grim work you have been tasked with, the cards believe your heart is pure.”

Ratau feels his breath catch in his chest.

“In this world, so many become corrupt with power and anger. Those who hold kindness in their hearts, those who heal with their very presence, they are far too little in number in this world. It is clear what the cards want you to do. Protect the purity of your heart. Nurture love and acceptance over anger and fear. Do not let anything smother that kindness.”

Tears sting in Ratau’s eyes as he nods his head. “I won’t.” He promises, he already has, having been told those same exact words once before. He prays that Karacyth is alright. It was his kindness that nurtured Ratau’s own. “I won’t…”

“Would you like to draw a card of your own?” Clauneck asks, his tone a bit softer. “It will help you with your task and perhaps ease your worries.”

“Y… yeah.” Ratau nods, blinking away tears to reach for the deck. Taking the card on top, he draws it from the deck and turns it to see its face. He’s unable to see it with his tear blurred vision so he brings a hand up to wipe his eyes, allowing him to see. On the card is a depiction of a circle filling up with a black liquid with a skull resting atop of it. From within the liquid, the red eye of his crown stares back at him. “What does this one mean? Why does it…”

Ratau looks up, and the fortune teller is gone.

The tent is gone, the fire is gone, the deck, the dangling stars, everything. Ratau leaps up to his feet, his head swiveling around for any sign of the old owl, but there’s absolutely nothing left. It’s like nothing was here at all.

Is this some kind of trick? A hallucination? The work of a ghost?

Looking down, only one piece of evidence remains of the fortune teller. Ratau stares down at the tarot card in his hand depicting what seems to be a well filling up with death. Was this a good or a bad card? Was it telling him he’d have a good night, or is this going to be a bad one?

The crown suddenly lowers itself from his head and hovers beside his hand, flipping itself over. With nothing better to do, Ratau lets the magic ghost card fall into the crown's bottomless void for safe keeping. Maybe one day he’ll find someone who knows what the hell happened to him.

The moment the card enters its void, the crown suddenly flips over and spasms in the air, its eye looking wild. “Woah! Wait, was I not supposed to do that?!” Ratau asks in a panic, reaching out to try and still the crown. “I promise I won’t feed you creepy cards anymore, alright.” The crown bucks around a couple more times before it clenches up, the red eye in its center closing.

Just as suddenly as it started fidgeting, the crown stops and seems to shudder with relief before opening its eye again. Floating out of his hands, it returns to Ratau’s head to continue onwards, but Ratau quickly reaches up and grabs hold of it again.

“No no, I want to know what just happened.” He argues with the crown. “Scratch that, I want to know what you’re even supposed to be. Are you The One Who Waits? Some kind of extension of him? Are you something else entirely, a servant like one of the other cats I saw?”

The crown does not respond to his questions. It has no mouth to talk with. It instead blinks up lazily at him.

Ratau feels like he’s wandering around blind having no idea what anything is or what’s going on at any given moment. Teleporting old men who remind him way too much of his elder, ominous warnings about deals gone wrong and death’s door. He questioned if this thing had a will of its own or not, but it clearly has something going on behind that eye.

Still waiting in his hand, the crown’s gaze turns off to the side. Ratau follows it and while nothing is there, he can tell that it’s trying to lead him north so he can get back on track. With this distraction taken care of, Ratau starts to get back on track, but he keeps the crown in his hands to interrogate it further.

“Do I need to feed you?” Ratau asks it, turning it over to look inside. It’s too dark to see anything, but when he felt around before it felt pretty empty. “I’m used to taking care of people, but… You aren’t really a person I don’t think. Should I at least hold off on feeding you weird cards?”

The crown shakes itself slightly, looking left to right. Is that its way of shaking its head no.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me what that card was supposed to mean?” Ratau tries, but the crown shakes itself again. “Do you think it had a good meaning?” After a short pause, the crown rocks itself back and forth in his hands in a nod. Ratau smiles at that before returning the Red Crown back to his head. “I hope you’re right. I could use some good luck after everything that’s happened.”

After walking through the woods in silence for so long, the mysterious fortune teller who may or may not have even existed helped make it apparent to him just how quiet everything was. He used to always have someone to talk to, be it the lumberjack, Karacyth, Ratoo, even Hathor if he was desperate to talk with someone. He’s all alone out here, but he does have this crown now, one that he now knows has a will of its own.

“Hey wait a minute…” Ratau reaches up for the crown again to hold it in front of him. “You saved me from that arrow, didn’t you!” The crown nods again and Ratau breaks into an even wider smile before returning it to its place. “Thank you for that.” He says, continuing his march through the woods, leaving the clearing and entering into the thicket once more. Night was falling, things were going to get dangerous. “We make a pretty good team. You don’t really have a back, but I’ll watch yours if you watch mine.”

The Red Crown rattles around on his head in response before going still to let him focus. As scary and confusing as all of this stuff is, at least he made a new friend out of the ordeal.

With sunlight fading fast, Ratau continues north, picking up his pace to make up for the lost time. As he does, his mind lingers on the fortune he was told, now even more determined to keep his promise with Karacyth.

He won’t let anyone break him or kill his kindness.

Ratau finds himself traversing the dark of the woods with relative ease.

Visibility still sucks and he trips over himself a couple of times, but he isn’t completely blind like he was when he fled from home. There’s just enough light for him to keep moving, and knowing he had the Red Crown at his beck and call, he pushes himself forward through the night without fear.

Eventually, his persistence is rewarded when he sees light filtering through the trees in the distance. Another break in the woods! Ratau quickens his pace but remains silent as he approaches. The archer said that his Old Faith friends would be gathered here. While Ratau was praying that his friends would be here too, he couldn’t rush in too quickly or else he’d be overwhelmed. He was armed, he had the power of the gods at his command, but he was still a very little guy compared to most.

Making it to the edge of the treeline, he suddenly finds himself petrified with what he sees.

There were a little over a dozen black robed cultists of the Old Faith in what looked like a makeshift camp in a large clearing. All around the place, crumbling pillars and destroyed statues litter the field with some structures and tents being propped up with what remains. While the armed zealots are worth his attention and worry, that isn’t what freezes Ratau in place.

Underneath one of the trees near the center of the clearing is a large cage where a dozen more people are cramped inside. To Ratau’s horror, he recognizes every single one of them.

Those are his friends!

It isn’t everyone though. There’s still a few dozen people still left unaccounted for and he can’t see his brother or the elder in the cage, but the fact that he managed to find anyone at all feels like a miracle. If he can get them out of there and somewhere safe, maybe they can help him find the others. There are several people guarding the cage, but if he can somehow draw them away, he might be able to rush in fast enough to break the lock and-

Ratau’s hairs stand on end as he hears the unmistakable sound of a blade being unsheathed right behind him.

Ratau whips around as fast as he can, throwing his hands out to push or smack away whoever’s snuck up on him, but he isn’t the only one to react. In the blink of an eye, the crown on his head transforms and flies to his hand, extending his reach just a bit further as he flails in a panic.

Ratau barely feels any resistance at all as the crowns blade cuts through flesh.

Ratau falls backwards, dropping the dagger and forcing it to return to his head as a crown, but it’s already done its job. Looking up, he finds that one of the cultists managed to sneak up on him, but before they could fully unsheathe their blade, Ratau managed to counter attack. They clutch at their throat, red spilling out from between their fingers. They try to gasp for air, call for help, beg, Ratau isn’t sure. The only thing that escapes the zealot is choked gurgles as their strength fades and they fall to the ground.

Ratau stares petrified at the now motionless corpse in front of him. He didn’t… He didn’t even mean to kill them, he just got scared and… It was so fast, he barely had time to-

“Zal?” Ratau sucks in a startled gasp as someone suddenly calls out from the camp. “Zal, are you alright up there? Did you see something?”

Oh no oh no oh no!

Ratau doesn’t have time to lock up right now, he needs to move, he… What does he do?! He remains low on the ground as he turns around, trying not to peek over the grass in case he reveals himself to someone. He can hear footsteps approaching him. Even if he gets away, they’re going to find the body behind him and go on high alert. They might even hurt his friends to try and draw him out of hiding.

The crown on his head morphs back into a dagger in his hand. It’s clear what the crown wants him to do, and with his friends’ lives on the line, Ratau doesn’t really have a choice. These monsters took everything and everyone from him, he can’t let them take what little he has left.

He presses himself low to the ground, trying to force his hand to stop shaking as he lies in ambush.

“Zal?! I saw you out here a minute ago, I know you’re still-”

The moment Ratau spots the zealot’s leg, he pushes off the ground and throws himself forward, swinging his dagger wildly at their legs. With his newfound strength and the crown's sharp blade, he carves through flesh almost as effortlessly as swinging through open air. The zealot cries out and falls to the ground, completely immobilized as Ratau hurries down hill towards the nearest zealot in the camp. He’s caught them all by surprise, he needs to capitalize on it before they form a proper response to his assault.

Only a handful of zealots seem to have noticed the sudden intruder, but he rushes up on the first one fast enough to strike before they even draw a weapon. Ratau lunges at them, driving his dagger into their chest before tearing it free and running for the next zealot in line. Blood burns against his hands and his mind is completely abuzz with adrenaline and fear, but he doesn’t allow himself to stop. He’s outnumbered and everyone here has a height advantage on him. He can’t slow down or hesitate or else he and everyone he’s trying to save will die.

The next two go down just as easily, but not all of them are as slow on the draw.

Ratau charges a pair of fanatics sitting by the fire in the center of the clearing, but while he tries to focus one of them down, the other quickly draws their blade and slashes at him. Ratau feels the tip of cold steel bite into his side and cries out in a panic, throwing himself to the side to avoid having it drive deeper into him. His free hand falls to his side to see where he got hit and it comes back red. Panic surges through his heart, but a war cry from his original target snaps him out of it as a blade comes down right for his head.

He throws himself to the side, just barely managing to avoid the blade before bringing his dagger down on his attacker's arm. The short dagger somehow manages to cut all the way through, bone and all, dismembering the zealot’s sword hand just above the wrist. Ratau isn’t sure if it was the blade’s doing or his own strength, but he does not let the horrific sight slow him. The sight of such a horrific attack does slow the other zealot who originally hit him though and Ratau takes advantage of their shock to rush past their defenses and drive his dagger into their chest before backing up and finishing off the dismembered swordsman.

Everyone knows he’s here now and Ratau feels terror seize in his chest as almost a dozen fanatics charge at him with blades and bows. Through the rage-filled roars of his attackers and the pounding in his ears, Ratau hears something that keeps him from freezing up completely.

“Ratau?!”
“He’s alive!”
“It can’t be!”
“He’s here to save us!”
“Ratau!, look out!”

He has to do this. If he falters now, all these people are going to die.

Tightening his grip on his dagger and forcing himself to take a deep breath, he charges towards the nearest zealot, bracing himself for combat.

Everything becomes a red blur to Ratau. Steel clashes, blood flies, and bodies drop to the ground. He’s barely aware of any of it anymore. Blades cut into his skin, arrows pierce his flesh, something burns against his back as a sudden force throws him to the ground. Each flash of pain and each desperate cry is followed by the screams of his friends in captivity. They were all depending on him, he couldn’t stop now. He swings wildly, his vision too blurry and red to make sense of what he’s swinging at, but he can feel blood splatter against him with every slash. He forces himself to keep swinging through the pain, to keep fighting until the attacks against him stop.

He isn’t sure how long the battle goes on for, but his body eventually gives out and he falls to his knees. The dagger falls from his hands as he throws them out to catch himself. Everything hurts. Blood covers him from head to toe and as he gasps for breath he finds a large pool forming beneath him. He isn’t sure how much of this is his, or…

He waits for a sword to fall on him, an arrow to fly in from a distance, but nothing comes. Weakly lifting his head to look around, he doesn’t see anything charging him through his blurred vision. He… He won?

“Ratau!”
“Please Ratau, hold on!”
“Stay with us!”

Despite the overwhelming amount of pain he’s in, Ratau forces himself to rise. Each movement irritates a million cuts and gashes across his body, but one wound nearly takes him back to the ground. Reaching behind his back, he finds an arrow shaft embedded below his shoulder. Clenching his teeth and bracing himself for the worst, he rips it out, nearly blacking out from the pain that follows, but the cries of his friends keep him conscious. He needs to get them out.

He pushes to his feet, struggling to settle his weight on them and nearly tumble after his first step. He’s blind to the carnage around him as he moves towards the cage, only caring to avoid the bodies in his direct path. Most encourage him to keep going, helping him press on despite the pain, but he slows down just as he gets into reach when he notices something.

Some of the people inside are scared of him.

It shocks him back into the moment. Why… Why were they afraid? He just came to save them from the people who…

Ratau turns around and nearly collapses once he sees what he’s done.

He can barely remember what he did, but strewn about the clearing are over a dozen motionless corpses in varying degrees of destruction. The first few furthest away from where he’s standing went down mostly cleanly, but everyone right next to him is a gorey mess of dismembered limbs and spilled guts.

Ratau has never killed anything until just now. He knew the hunters of his village, one of them was in the cage behind him right now, but he always got a little queasy seeing them bring in their kills and hated working in the kitchen whenever the butcher got to work. He’s never seen so much blood in his life and knowing that he spilled it all…

“Ratau!” Someone snaps Ratau out of his horrified daze and he quickly averts his eyes from the carnage to face everyone in the cage. “Ratau, I don’t… I don’t know how you did this, but you can’t stop now!” One of the farm hands, a cow named Ches, tries to get through to him. “We’re not the only ones! Elder Karacyth and many more were forced up those stairs there, you have to hurry!”

“Karacyth?!” In the blink of an eye, Ratau is moving again, hissing out in pain as he’s reminded of his wounds. He can’t waste any more time until he knows everyone is alright. His breakdown can come later, all of this will have been in vain if he doesn’t rescue his friends.

He approaches the cage and tugs on the door, but it’s of course locked. He looks around at the mangled bodies on the ground to see if he can find the keys to open it when the crown on his head suddenly lifts off of him. Everyone inside gasps at the sight and Ratau looks up to watch as it transforms once more, not into a dagger, but a key. It inserts itself into the lock and turns, causing the lock to click open and fall from the cage door. Ches pushes it open as the crown returns to Ratau’s head in its natural form, but there are still a few who remain inside, not wanting to step out into the bloodbath Ratau turned this place into.

“Ratau! Are you alright?” Ches is the only one brave enough to approach him directly. She leans down and pulls Ratau into a hug, hurting him as she applies pressure to his wounds, but he hugs her back. He wasn’t sure if he’d get to see her or anyone else ever again.

“Is…” Ratau gasps for air through the intense pain in his chest. “Is Ratoo ok?” He asks. “Do you know where he went?” Ches does not answer him, but judging by the pained look in her eyes, he can see that she either doesn’t know, or…

”I can’t tell him… He’s already so hurt, I can’t break the news to him yet…”

“W-what?” Ratau does a double take. He’s pretty sure he just heard her speak, but her mouth was still the whole time. Is he losing it, or…

“Elder Karacyth is in danger!” Someone from within the cage calls out to him. “They said they were taking people away for sacrifices. They went up those stairs! Please hurry before it’s too late for them!”

He isn’t done. He still has work to do.

Ratau tries to pull away, to march towards the stairs, but Ches holds him back. “Wait, Ratau. You’re injured. You can’t fight anymore. Please, sit down and rest, we’ll-”

“I’m not done!” Ratau insists, slipping out of her embrace. Ches tries to reach out for him again, but Ratau hears her gasp and step back when the crown on his head flies to his hand as he arms himself for another fight. He understands why she’s afraid for him, she was entirely right to do so. He doesn’t know how much fight he has left in him, but he’ll be fine. The fortune teller told him so, death won’t take him. “Please, stay back. I’ll bring everyone back to safety.”

No one tries to stop him as he marches towards the stairs, either trusting in his words or too fearful to reach out. He doesn’t want them to be scared, but he’s scared of himself. He doesn’t know how he’s still walking, how he’s still fighting, how he hasn’t lost his nerve and broken down completely. This horror will pass though. He’ll clear this place out and ensure the safety of his friends.

As he climbs the steps, his heart burns with righteous fervor.

Making it to the top of the steps and past a large stone archway, Ratau finds himself in a clearing in front of a large temple whose doors are chained shut. Right in front of the temple is a large statue depicting what looks like the Red Crown, and right in front of that is a sight that nearly stops Ratau’s heart. A stone slab has been pulled into the center of the courtyard and it’s already been stained red with the blood of sacrifices. Five bodies already lie motionless on the floor, but someone is still squirming, still tied down to the slab and waiting for their execution.

It was Karacyth, fighting against his binds and trying to break free.

Standing before the stone slab and the bound elder is another cultist, a big one. Standing at least three times taller than Ratau and twice as wide, the hulking zealot turns to face the rat. Bloodstained scriptures line his robes and the beast wears the skull of a previous victim as a mask. Judging from the horn just above the beast's nose, he appears to be a rhino.

“You dare interrupt the ceremony…” Even the monster’s voice seems to rumble the earth as he speaks. Had Ratau not seen true divinity to know better, he would have assumed this man was a god. “The gods demand sacrifice! You dare to defy their wishes and deny them their wish?!”

“Yes…” Ratau nods, brandishing his dagger and bracing himself for a fight he isn’t confident he’ll win. He’s nearing his limit, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fight till his last to try and free Karacyth.

The beast snarls and stomps forward, dropping the sacrificial blade they’ve used to disembowel his friends to draw the large sword from his back. The sword alone is just as long as Ratau is, but instead of backing away, he steps forward defiantly, readying his dagger.

Despite how pitiful he must look, the zealot stops. He seems to focus on the dagger in Ratau’s hand before turning to look at the statue of the Red Crown behind him. Something clicks within his head and instead of stepping forward to split the rat in two with a single swipe of his sword, he actually takes a step back in fear. Ratau can’t help but smile at the reaction. It pleases him to know that he’s enough to scare the big brute.

That smile falls off his face immediately when the monster turns around and grabs hold of Karacyth, yanking him upwards before spinning around and holding the elder in front of him, bringing his sword up to rest against his neck.

“DON’T!” Ratau screams out in a panic. He takes a single step forward and the brute tenses, his blade leaving a shallow cut against the bird’s throat that causes him to whimper in pain. “Don’t you dare hurt him!” Ratau demands. “If you do, I’ll…”

“Silence, demon!” The zealot barks, taking another step back while keeping the blade to the elder’s throat to keep Ratau at bay. “I refuse to believe that you hold the power of a crown! The bishops are the only ones who can wield such power! I will finish sacrificing my offerings to them, destroy this accursed place, and slaughter you in their name, little blasphemer, just as I have to every other heathen from that pathetic little village.”

“Just let him go!” Ratau demands again. “Let him go and run away and I’ll let you live! Just please, don’t hurt him!” Karacyth’s eyes are squeezed shut. His beak is chipped and Ratau can already see bruises and shallow cuts littering his body. Seeing him in this state made Ratau beyond furious, but if he acts too rashly, he might get the elder killed. “Let him go…” Ratau begs, exhausted and horrified by what he’s already done. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

In response, the brute lets out a short but harsh laugh, tightening his grip around Karacyth and causing the elder to wince in pain. “Perhaps I misjudged you. You’re no demon, you’re a sniveling child playing as one! Begging me to release this useless bag of bones? Maybe I’ll kill him just to spite you before carving your heart out on the slab in his place.”

“Don’t you dare!” Ratau screams, taking another step forward. The brutes blade cuts deeper into the elder’s flesh, causing him to cry out. Ratau freezes, his heart threatening to burst.

“One more step and the bird’s head rolls.” The beast grumbles, his mask lifting up slightly as he breaks into a wide, sadistic smile. “Drop the dagger and I might let him live.”

Ratau shakes with unbridled rage. Tears sting in his eyes, but he has no other choice. He lets the dagger go and the crown seems confused by his actions, hovering by his hand for a second or two before returning to his head. Ratau takes a step back, holding his hands up as tears blur his vision.

“Just let him go, please…” Ratau’s heart feels like it’s burning up in his chest. He just wants the elder to be alright. If it means putting himself on the chopping block, he’ll do it. As long as Karacyth gets out. With tear blurred vision, he looks up at the brute as he slowly lowers the blade from Karacyth’s neck, his mask lifting as his smile widens.

“Nah…”

Rearing his arm back, the hulking zealot lifts Karacyth up and slams him back down onto the bloody slab, silencing the old man’s cries as he’s violently smashed against the stone. Taking a step back, the monster raises his sword over his head, readying himself to bring it down right on top of the elder.

”NO!”

At that moment, all Ratau sees is red.

He throws his hands out, desperate to stop the monster before he can kill the old man. Before the blade can fall, the earth beneath the zealot’s feet ruptures. Erupting from the ground, two writhing masses of black and red reach out of the ground and latch onto the zealot, one around one of his legs, the other around one of his arms. They yank downwards, dragging the massive zealot to the ground in an instant and causing the sword to fall from his hands. He screams in terror, and Ratau can’t help but scream as well.

He can’t close his eyes. The taste of blood fills his mouth and his whole body feels like it’s being burned as his hands are locked in front of him. What’s happening?! Is he doing this?!

“Damn you!” The hulking monster that threatened to kill his elder is now screaming in agony as the hellish tentacles constrict and pull on his limbs. More tentacles erupt from the ground, lashing out at him and holding him down. “Demon! Devil! Unholy wretch!” One of the tentacles goes for his throat, coiling tightly around it and strangling the breath out of him. Ratau is unable to look away, his eyes frozen on the dying zealot. “A thou… sand curs…. On your…”

With a powerful yank, the tentacles around the brutes neck constrict even tighter and push towards the ground. Ratau hears the horrific snap of his neck being broken by the force and just like that, everything stops. The tentacles fade into shadows, the zealot lies motionless on the ground, and color returns to the world again.

Ratau finds he’s in control of his faculties again and stumbles back in horror, tripping over himself and falling onto his back. His hands come up to his cheeks to wipe his tears away only for his hands to come back red. His whole face was covered in blood. He tries to wipe it all off, but his hands are shaking too bad.

What did he do?! What the hell did he do?!

He gasps for air, but nothing reaches his lungs. His heart races a mile a minute, sending spikes of pain through his chest. Terror floods his mind as he tries to make sense of what just happened. What has he done?! What has he signed into?! What horrible powers lie within his crown?! Within him?! His whole body hurts, his chest burns as his heart beats faster and faster…

Only for it to suddenly go still.

Ratau tries to breathe, but no air fills his lungs. He tries to sit up, but his strength has left his body. He lies still as his pain starts to fade, and with nothing else left to do, he closes his eyes.

He’s awoken by the rattling of chains and… laughter?

Ratau’s eyes flutter open and he finds himself staring up into a pure white sky, chains reaching up and piercing the heavens. The ground feels wet on his back and his heart is still in his chest. Did he die? Is he back in the afterlife?

Ratau jolts slightly as someone leans over him into his field of view, a single red eye staring down at him from behind a black veil.

“What did you do?” Aym asks him. While he still appears to be scowling beneath his veil, Ratau doesn’t hear any hostility in his voice. He seems genuinely curious. “I have never seen the lord in such a good mood. What did you do?”

“I…” Ratau pushes himself up and Aym stands aside, giving him space to rise to his feet. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore…” Ratau shakes his head. How did he die?! Was everything that just happened some delusional nightmare he had in his final moments? Is Karacyth ok?!

“He wishes to speak to you.” Aym states, turning his back on Ratau to lead the way. “Come.” Aym starts to walk away, moving towards the sound of laughter in the distance, but Ratau stays put. He looks down at himself and finds his fur is still stained with blood and littered with cuts and bruises from his battle. Reaching up, his crown still rests on his head. He wants to throw it off, terrified of its power, but he knows it will just float right back. “Are you deaf?!” Aym bellows, growing impatient. “Walk!”

After a moment of hesitation, Ratau moves. He was in The One Who Waits’ domain. It wouldn’t be wise to anger him here.

Following the scar faced cat, Ratau follows the sound of laughter that has not once died down since he arrived. As joyous as it sounds, there are wet, sputtering coughs in between each laughing fit as well as desperate gulps for air. Eventually the fog parts and two figures appear.

“My lord, please.” Baal stands before the god of death, pleading with him as the god doubles over and tightens his chains, coughing up ichor as he literally makes himself sick with laughter. “You’re overexerting yourself, you must calm down.”

“Master!” Aym announces his presence, taking his place beside his lord and bowing his head. “I have fetched your vessel.”

Ratau freezes underneath the three red eyes of his lord as he sucks in a breath and leans in close. They hold their stare for only a couple seconds before the god breaks out into laughter again, nearly falling over and only being held upright by the chains holding him in place. That laughter eventually turns into raspy coughs as he hacks up more ichor and struggles to breathe, but when he does get a breath in, it sputters out as more laughter.

“Are you laughing at me?!” Ratau asks, feeling irritated by this sudden turn of events. He feels like he’s been fooled, that the horrific events that might have led to his death was this sick god's twisted idea of a prank. “Stop it!” He demands. “I have questions and I can’t ask them while you’re laughing!”

“Silence, rat!” Aym barks, flexing his staff arm and threatening to hit Ratau with it. “Speak when you are spoken to. Do not-”

“Silence, child!” Aym, Baal, and Ratau all flinch as The One Who Waits speaks. The cats both kneel and bow their heads, and with a quick gesture from Baal for him to follow along, Ratau does the same. The god heaves, his breaths rattling in his chest as he tries to take deep breaths and calm himself down. Small chuckles escape him periodically, but when he speaks again, he has it completely out of his system. “Thank you, young vessel.”

“Huh?” Ratau looks up at the god, unsure of what he’s being thanked for. “I barely did anything. I’m pretty sure I died one day after you revived me.”

“I have not been this entertained in centuries.” The One Who Waits tells him with a blood stained smile. “Seventeen slain in a day, the blood of traitorous heretics spilled in what once was my temple, only for you to-” The god snickers again, threatening to burst into laughter once more. “To die of a stress induced heart attack!”

The god breaks, belting out laughter over the circumstances of Ratau’s death. Ratau isn’t sure how to respond. It’s such a grisly thing to derive amusement from, but he supposes it is a little funny. He slaughtered over a dozen trained killers but it wasn’t a blade or arrow that did him in, but his own panic.

He looks to the two cats to gauge their reactions. Both of them are still knelt down, likely trying to adhere to some sort of etiquette that Ratau isn’t familiar with, but both of them have lifted their heads to look back at him.

Baal looks mildly amused, but beneath his veil, it’s clear that he’s concerned for his lord who continues to cough up more black gunk every time his breath catches in his chest. Looking over at Aym, Ratau’s surprised to find he isn’t scowling. In fact, he looks to be a bit impressed. Ratau is still horrified by what he managed to do, but there’s an undeniable sense of pride welling in his currently still chest too. Seventeen killers, all who were bigger than him and more heavily armed, all felled by a single, tiny rat.

“I had my doubts…” When the lord speaks once more, the cats both quickly bow their heads again. Ratau stands at attention, staring up at the three crimson eyes of his god. “I feared that you would be a waste of what little power I had, that I was being foolish for trying to work around the prophecy my siblings were desperate to dismantle. I feared that you would be weak, but you have proven my doubts wrong.”

“Your… welcome.” Ratau says. He sees Aym glare up at him slightly in his peripheral vision. He probably isn’t composing himself properly and shouldn’t be speaking to a god in such a casual manner, but he’s sure he’ll learn fast. He’s had to adapt to a lot of scary things today. “So are you going to send me back?” He asks. “I died again.”

“And I expect you to die many more times in the coming years.” The god tells him. “Your foes are numerous and desperate to spill your blood and offer you in sacrifice to their traitorous gods. While I admire your decision to spare only a few, allowing them to fearmonger amongst their flock of the new bearer of the Red Crown, the bishops will learn of you soon. Your mission will only become harder as time passes.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Ratau asks with some worry. “I just wandered through the woods all day and got myself killed after one fight. How am I supposed to dismantle an entire religion on my own?”

“You can’t,” The god shakes his head, “But you aren’t alone anymore. You have saved a small flock from certain death, a flock that witnessed your terrible power and your righteous fury. Many are afraid, but all are loyal to you. They will follow your every command, some out of trust, others out of fear. Their loyalty, their devotion, will fuel you on your crusade.”

“I don’t think any of them are fit to fight though…” Ratau says. He can’t imagine convincing any of them to pick up a sword and battle alongside him. They’re all farmers, builders, elders. They’ve likely never picked up a sword in their lives. He never touched a weapon either until last night, but the crown gave him the strength and endurance he needed to fight.

“They do not have to. They just need to believe you can fight their battles for them.” Gently raising a hand until the chains around his wrists are pulled taut, the Red Crown lifts from Ratau’s head and is held in place in front of him. “The crown you wear feeds on devotion and faith, even if it isn’t directed towards you. The fear your enemies felt as your blade cut their numbers down, the disbelief when your flock saw you were alive, the prayers they whispered for someone to save them and thanks they gave to whoever was listening when their prayers were answered, it all feeds the crown.”

“That’s good to know.” Ratau sighs with a bit of relief. “I was worried about how I’d feed it.” The brothers both look up at him again with a confused look in their eyes. “Does it need anything else?” Ratau asks, despite the weird looks the brothers give him. “It can’t talk, so-”

“Silence.” The lord orders and Ratau stops his questions immediately. “It will serve you in your mission. That is all you need to know.”

“I understand.” Ratau nods. After a moment of thought, he asks a follow up question. “How do I feed it more? If I feed the crown, I’ll get stronger, right?” The One Who Waits looks pleased to hear him ask this.

“Show more mortals it's terrible power.” The god instructs. “Have your flock pray to it and myself. Build a temple and preach of the peace I will grant them when they pass from this cruel world. Erect a shrine in my image for them to kneel before. Their devotion and faith will feed the crown, which will in turn empower you, who will one day heal and release me. Indoctrinate other’s into your flock to line the pews, slay the heretics who oppose you, plant fear into the hearts of my traitorous siblings as you become my undying reaper, my harbinger!”

With each word, the god’s smile widened. He spoke with more fervor, his eyes became more wild. Each word stirs in Ratau’s heart, causing it to beat in his chest once more. All his life, he’s dreamed of bigger things. He wanted to leave the small confines of his village, he wanted to do something more respectable than chopping wood. He wanted to be like his brother, venturing out and protecting people, someone the entire village looked up to. He feels he’d be doing his brother proud.

If only he could find him…

“Your crusade has only just begun.” The One Who Waits declares, lowering his hand and returning the crown back to Ratau’s head. “Tend to your flock and rebuild my temple. I will be watching. And should you perish on your crusades, please do so in as spectacular of a fashion as possible. It has been far too long since I’ve had entertainment like this.”

“I’ll… try, I guess.” Ratau says. He doesn’t want to die and he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t help his mission at all if he does. If his back is against the wall though, he sure as hell won’t lie back and take it.

The crown rests on his head once more, feeling a bit heavier now that he knows what kind of horrifying powers it truly holds. It will only grow in power as the days go by. With his crown returned to him and his heart beating once more, the two cat brothers rise up. Lifting their staves, they bring the butt ends of them down hard on the ground…

…And Ratau wakes up.

He jolts upright, pushing himself into a seated position, only to fall back over when someone yelps out in surprise right next to him. Looking up at whoever startled him, he finds the old farmhand Ches, staring wide eyed at him in disbelief. There’s a shovel in her hands, and when Ratau looks over to see where he is, he’s horrified to see there’s a shallow grave right next to where he’s lying.

“I thought… I…” Ches drops the shovel and scoops Ratau up into a hug, breaking out into tears as she holds him tight. “Oh you poor thing, I thought you… You weren’t breathing and I…”

“I’m alright.” Ratau assures her, returning the hug. Normally he’d be against being held like this, treated like a small child, but after everything he’s endured, after all the pain he suffered through, he can’t help but sink into her arms. Even now though, he remains vigilant. He looks around and finds himself at the very edge of the clearing he tore through. The bodies of the zealots have been shoved into the cage, but beside Ratau is the body of one of his friends, their chest torn open and heart stolen. Ches was burying the dead, believing he had succumbed to his injuries. He can see four graves already filled, but… “Is Karacyth alright?” Ratau asks. Ratau did everything he could to save him, but even after sparing him from the blade, he looked like he took a beating.

“Are you?!” Ches turns the question on him, pushing him from her embrace to look him over. “I was so sure you were dead! There was so much blood, you could barely walk when you tried to go up there and… What’s going on?!” Ches was the only person who was willing to approach him when he opened up the cage, but Ratau can see fear even in her eyes. She’s scared. “What are you wearing? How did you fight off all of those people at once? Why can’t I find any more cuts or bruises?”

“I…” Ratau looks at her, unsure of what to say. He hears a commotion as his other friends take notice of him with mixed reactions of relief and horror. Everyone starts to gather, all of them repeating the same questions. How was he still alive, how did he manage to clear out the whole camp by himself, what is the crown on his head? Everyone’s eyes are on him.

“I was saved.” Ratau answers, turning to look over at everyone. “And I’m here to save you all too.”

Chapter Text

Ratau’s first day as leader of his flock is spent cleaning.

Judging by the large statue where the sacrificial slab was placed and the god’s own words, this place used to be a holy site for The One Who Waits before he was banished and bound to the afterlife. Ratau didn’t give the idea of gods or magic much thought until he became a conduit for both, but fate was something he was still coming to terms with. Having lived so close to such a site and having it be the place his mission truly began couldn’t have been a coincidence though. This was a sign.

Ratau would rebuild it, creating a sanctuary for all who suffer under the tyranny of the Old Faith.

Ratau elected to deal with the bodies, both of friends and foes. Everyone else is beaten and bloodied already, he doesn’t want them to witness more death than they already have. As he gets to work on his grim task, he asks Ches, the only person who seemed to trust him fully in this moment, to have everyone else comb through the tents and belongings of the zealots to take inventory of what they’re working with.

Burying the villagers who were sacrificed before he could save them, Ratau now knows that there’s only a little more than dozen people from the village who aren’t accounted for. Almost all are dead and the small handful under his protection are the only ones he knows are safe. To his dismay, Ratoo and Hathor are not among either group. They’re still out there somewhere.

Though he suspects someone in his flock knows.

He puts the thought aside for now and starts digging.

At the edge of the clearing, he finishes Ches’ work and digs a grave for his friends. Everyone else, or at least what’s left of them, is dumped into a much larger hole he digs somewhat unceremoniously. He wasn’t going to go through the effort of digging individual graves for these murderers, but they needed to be out of sight and out of mind. It’s tedious work, but aside from the queasiness in his stomach, he doesn’t break a sweat or tire at all.

He isn’t aware of how much time has passed until Ches approaches him with a cupped handful of berries. “Ratau, you should eat something.” She says, holding the berries out to him. “I’m afraid we don’t have much, but with how hurt you were last night, you really should try and rest.”

Ratau looks at the berries in her hands, but to his surprise, he isn’t hungry. Thinking back, he never felt the pangs of hunger at all yesterday while searching through the remains of his village and traveling through the forest. He should be starving by now, but while the berries looked delicious, he felt no urge to eat them.

“You said there isn’t much to go around?” Ratau asks her, letting his shovel drop so he can wipe his hands off. “I will be fine. Distribute it amongst the others. They need it more than I do.”

“Are…” Ches hesitates. “Are you sure?” She asks. “You’re one of the few people doing anything right now, you need to-”

“It’s alright, Ches.” Ratau assures her. “You don’t have to worry about me. Just help me worry about the others.”

“Very well.” Ches concedes, turning to carry the berries back to the rest of the flock. Ratau moves to follow her, finished with his task and searching for something else to busy himself with, when he hears something.

”The poor boy must be sick to his stomach. I should make sure he gets something to eat before nightfall…”

Ratau pauses, stunned by the sudden voice echoing within his head. After a moment, he reaches up to the Red Crown and stares it down. Is this the voice of the crown in his head, or… He glances up at Ches who continues towards the rest of the flock, though she occasionally sends glances backwards towards him. He’s positive he didn’t overhear her talking to herself, something similar happened last night.

He was hearing her thoughts!

“How many things can you do?!” Ratau silently asks his crown, staring down at it in wonder and horror. He isn’t quite sure he likes this ability, though he supposes it could be useful in figuring out everyone’s most pressing needs and worries. Returning the crown to his head, he approaches his flock and keeps an ear out, checking over everyone as he goes.

”There isn’t enough food… Maybe two days tops…”
”Is my husband still alright? He should have been able to get away…”
”Is that really Ratau anymore? All those people, there’s no way he killed them all on his own…”
”The poor elder… he isn’t responding.”

“He isn’t?!” Ratau’s ears perk up. Everyone around him suddenly turns to him in confusion and light shock. None of them were speaking, he just blurted out. “Where’s Karacyth? Is he alright?!”

“He’s…” Someone speaks up from amongst the small gathering. Stepping forward, it’s the youngest of the survivors, a young dog, the village doctor’s son Oy. “I don’t know.” Oy admits, sounding frustrated and afraid. “He’s breathing, I did my best to stop the bleeding, nothing looks wrong, but he isn’t getting better.”

“Can you take me to him, please?” Ratau begs, horrified to hear that Karacyth might not be as fine as he thought. Oy is quick to get up and lead the way, breaking away from the flock to take Ratau to one of the large tents the zealots had set up before he attacked. Some of the tents were destroyed in the fight, but there should be just enough for everyone to sleep under tonight. Lifting open the tent flap for him, Oy gestures for Ratau to step inside.

The young rat does so and is both relieved and mortified by what he finds.

Elder Karacyth is alive. He’s sitting upright and breathing, his legs folded beneath him and his arms crossed as he rests his head. Bandages wrap around his feathers and neck and Ratau can see that Oy must have applied some sort of poultice the zealots carried with them to his wounds to help him heal. What scared Ratau though was how badly the old man shook. His eyes were squeezed shut and upon closer inspection, his arms weren’t just crossed, he was hugging himself tightly, desperately trying to steady himself.

“Karacy-” Simply opening his mouth to speak causes the elder to flinch away from him, a fearful whimper escaping from his cracked beak. “No no, it’s alright, it’s me, it’s…” The elder curls up more, turning away and raising his arms to cover his head as the light whimpers turn to sobs. It nearly tears Ratau’s heart in two to see him like this. He tries to probe the elder’s mind with the crown, desperate to find out what’s got him so spooked, but what he hears nearly sends him into a panic.

It’s a complete jumble in the elder’s head. Prayers to be left alone and spared, cries for the little lamb he lost everything to protect, pleas for him to be taken instead of the others. The old man is completely broken, traumatized by the horrific events he endured since the attack on the village.

Ratau wants to help, he wants to hold the old man tight and tell him he’s going to be ok, but every movement and sound he makes causes the elder to retreat deeper into the tent, fearful for his life. He doesn’t want to scare him anymore than he already has, so with no other idea of what to do, Ratau backs up and leaves him alone in the tent, stepping outside to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“You don’t know what to do either, do you?” Ratau turns to find Oy standing beside the tent, looking just as heartbroken. “Ches tried to get him to eat, but he freaked out at her too. I left some berries beside him and I think he might be picking at them, but I’m not sure.”

”Dad would know what to do. He made everyone feel better. If only…”

“Thank you so much, Oy.” Ratau tells the young dog, reaching out for his hand. “Thanks to you, Karacyth is still alive and able to recover.” After a moment, he adds on, “Your father would be proud of you.”

Oy’s breath hitches in his chest. He looks Ratau in the eyes. “Do you know if he made it out?” He asks, tears falling down the golden fur on his cheeks.

“He didn’t.” Ratau tells the boy honestly. He rests a hand on his shoulder. “Someone’s taking care of him now. After everything he did for us for all these years, I’m sure he’s enjoying his rest.”

“I…” Oy looks like he wants to argue, or maybe he just wants to yell to vent out his grief, but seeing how sure Ratau is of his words, Oy bottles it up and sniffles. “I’m sure he is.” He says. “He always said he’d sleep when he’s…” Oy doesn’t have the strength to finish his sentence, but he doesn’t need to.

“Keep a close eye on the elder for me.” Ratau asks him. “I need to check on the others.”

“I will.” Oy promises. “But, before you go.” The dog reaches out and takes Ratau’s hand, lifting up his arm and taking a closer look at him. “There aren’t even scars…” He mumbles, his fingers running through Ratau’s fur to find any trace of the injuries he received.

“I was treated with the same care your father is receiving now.” Ratau tells the young dog, pulling his arm back from him. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Oy falls silent as Ratau moves to find something else to help with. Glancing back, he finds the dog staring in awe at him, and after a moment, he clasps his hands together and bows his head slightly in a silent prayer. He doesn’t know who he's praying to yet, but the boy thanks the one chained below for tending to Ratau’s wounds and prays that he’s treating his father with the same care.

Ratau can’t help but feel… stronger? His heart feels heavy after the meeting with the elder and witnessing the grief of the now orphaned Oy, but seeing him pray and taking genuine comfort in Ratau’s words doesn’t just make him feel better for alleviating some of his grief, he feels a genuine, physical reaction from it too.

He’s feeding off the boy’s faith and devotion. Seeing him miraculously rise from the dead fully healed after witnessing his grisly battle, there’s no doubt in the boy's mind that he holds godly power.

That’s one believer empowering him, but Oy’s faith alone isn’t going to kill the gods. He’ll need to sway the others too. Of course, they’re going to need someplace safe to stay first.

Joining the rest of the flock again, he does his best to help out with the little odd jobs everyone’s keeping busy with, keeping an ear out for any problems they may have, whether they consciously voice them or not. Right now, the biggest thing people seem to have a problem with is him. Most of these people have never witnessed such violence before in their lives. To see Ratau, the kind young man who chopped and delivered firewood to keep their homes warm kill so many, it left them all rattled and terrified of him.

As the sun hangs high overhead, he tries his best to ease their worries.

“Hey, Gnatri?”

“Huh?! Wha?!” Ratau tries to address the most fearful of the flock so far, an older hen named Gnatri. His attempts at greeting her to try and calm her nerves instead causes her to jolt, fumbling the bundle of wood she was carrying towards the fire at the center of the clearing and dropping everything to the ground. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry! Please don’t-”

“No no, I’m sorry.” Ratau quickly apologizes, kneeling down to help pick up the firewood. “I just wanted to check on how you were doing, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Gathering everything up and hoisting it into his arms, he looks up at the hen. “Are you doing alright? Do you need help with anything?” Gnatri stays quiet, seemingly frozen on the spot in front of Ratau.

”That crown… That thing that came to our village wore one just like it. Is it puppeting him? Is it wearing the skin of poor little Ratau?!”

“I’m still scared too.” Ratau says, trying to calm her when she doesn’t respond to any of his questions. “I’m… still trying to come to terms with how much we’ve lost. So many people that I’ll never get to say hi to ever again. I still don’t know if my brother is ok or not…”

Ratau pauses, genuine grief taking root and closing his throat. He wants to run out there and look for him, to do something to make sure he doesn’t end up like the sacrifices he had to bury earlier today. In the time he takes to grieve, Gnatri seems to loosen up just a bit, reaching her arms out to take the wood Ratau is carrying. Seeing her offering to help, Ratau gently passes everything to her as he gets back on track.

“I’m so glad you and everyone else here is safe.” He tells her. “I don’t know what I’d do if I was the only one who made it. I just wish I could have come sooner and saved more…”

“It’s…” Gnatri is still hesitant to speak up and even flinches when Ratau looks up at her, but she finds the confidence to continue. “You did your best. Better than your best, actually. I’m just… Thank you.”

With the firewood returned to her, she quickly runs off, leaving Ratau without another word. One peek into her head is enough to convince him that he reached through to her though.

”That’s still the young man I know, but what happened to him in the time we’ve been separated? Something’s changed…”

His next hour is spent checking in with everyone else in the flock, addressing their worries and doing his best to calm them down. Some are just worried about their new living conditions, afraid that food won’t last or that there won’t be enough room for everyone. As long as the weather stays fair, shelter shouldn’t be too much of an issue yet, but Ratau promises to do something about the food situation. Others are terrified of facing retaliation from the Old Faith. Someone’s going to come looking, but once again, Ratau promises to handle anyone who tries to march in and take the place back. He won’t allow it.

Almost all of them share the same worry that something’s happened to him, that the kind young rat they all knew had changed for the worst, but all it takes is a single conversation to wipe those thoughts away. He’s still the same young man they remembered, and despite what they all witnessed him do, he was just as kind.

Though, as he tends to everyone and helps where he can, he can’t help but think he’s miscounting. Including himself, there were fourteen people total who survived the raid. He hasn’t seen Karacyth since he’s still hiding away in his tent, but scanning the clearing, he only counts thirteen. Someone’s missing.

He starts to freak out. Did someone run off while he wasn’t looking? Were cultists of the Old Faith stalking the clearing and stealing people away if they wandered off too far?! He doesn’t want to cause a commotion or demand everyone show up for a head count out of fear of undoing all the effort he put in to calm them down, but if he’s freaking out, everyone else will too once they notice.

Before Ratau can freak out too much, the Red Crown floats off his head and hovers in front of him. Its eye points towards the stairs that lead up to the sacrificial slab and its statue. Did it know where the missing villager went?

“Thanks, little buddy.” Ratau sighs with some relief, and after a moment of consideration, he reaches out and pats the crown on one of its barbs. The crown makes no sign of enjoying or being annoyed at the pets and returns to his head, having fulfilled its duty in guiding him.

Unlike with the rest of the clearing which has been mostly cleared out, the stairs leading up to the statue and slab are still stained with blood. Ches at least has been here to gather the bodies of their fallen friends as well as his body, but no one has come here since.

He makes it up the steps and moves to pass underneath the large stone archway separating the clearing from the strange shrine where the sacrifices took place, but stops when he notices strange markings on the ground. The masonry of the stone floor is not uniform and instead forms several circles, each one with occult symbols etched into the bricks. At the center is a flat, rounded stone large enough for someone to stand on with a black star painted on it.

Ratau steps onto the stone, wondering what it could be for, but the moment his foot makes contact, he feels a cold shiver run though not only him, but his crown. He quickly backs away, watching with shock as the once black markings on the stone glow a dim red before fading out now that he isn’t touching it. The crown reacted to the markings, so Ratau takes his crown off to speak to it.

“Was that a good thing or a bad thing?” He asks it, though of course the crown can’t respond. “One blink for good, two for bad.” After a moment, the crown blinks once. “So I won’t die horribly if I step on it?” The crown blinks once again, answering with a yes. He’d ask more complex questions like what it is and what it tried to do, but he has no clue and the crown can’t give him any details. “I guess we’ll investigate later.” He gives the stone a wide berth and continues through the archway.

Stepping towards the shrine, he’s able to take in a lot more details now that it was bright out and he wasn’t immediately being harassed. Behind the large statue of the Red Crown are five doors. Each one is adorned in occult symbols which Ratau has since learned is bad news, but at the very top of the arches framing each door is a depiction of a crown. The one closest to him, the door wrapped up with vines and growing camellias has a depiction of the same crown the bishop that attacked his home wore.

The other doors were all also sealed shut as well. One was leaking water and seemed to have some sort of growth forming over it, another was overgrown with mushrooms. The door in the darkest corner was completely obscured by spiderwebs, and to Ratau’s horror, the skeletal remains of someone is caught in those webs, acting as a warning not to enter.

Directly behind the statue and up another flight of stairs is a fifth door, completely obscured with chains. There is no crown at the top of the door frame, the space where one would be is scorched and splintered.

Ratau will have to investigate all of these later, but his attention is focused on the missing follower he’s thankfully found here.

In the center of the shrine, standing beside the sacrificial slab, he finds Lyrcai, a large ox who used to help construct new homes back at the village. He’s staring at the statue of the Red Crown in the center of the shrine. In his hands is the large sword that the hulking zealot threatened to kill Karacyth with, and to Ratau’s horror, said zealot was still lying on the ground. Ches only came for her friends, not the monster that killed them.

“Lyrcai?” Ratau speaks up to get his attention. The ox tenses, slowly turning to face Ratau. The rat’s eyes fall on the sword in his hands and he makes the conscious decision to not approach. “I didn’t see you with the others. I got scared that you wandered off on your own.”

“I uh…” Lyrcai mumbles. “Needed some air.”

”I should not be alone with this thing. Ratau couldn’t have done all this. That crown… I need to get it off his head.”

Ratau’s eyes go a bit wide as Lyrcai steps towards him, the sword in his hand gripped tight. He wasn’t the only one who thought the Red Crown had done something to him, but Lyrcai seems confident enough in his abilities to try and save him.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me.” Ratau says, taking a step back. Lyrcai tenses a bit but continues to move towards him. “I understand why you’re scared. I am too. I promise you though, I am not cursed, I’ve been blessed. This shrine should be proof enough. Look at what’s become of this place.”

Lyrcai stops for only a moment, glancing back at the statue of the crown and the doors behind it.

“The bishops took more than just our friends and homes.” Ratau tries to reason with the ox. “They’ve been hurting people for years, people much bigger and stronger than either of us. I’m scared of what I did too, but I’m only trying to help. The owner of this crown just wants to help too.”

Lyrcai stops once Ratau mentions the crown directly. “Do you really trust that thing?” He asks, raising the sword to point at the statue of the crown. “Did you not see what you did?”

“I saved you from the same fate that befell all our friends.” Ratau tells him. “They’ve been doing this for years. Centuries. I was given the power to finally fight back. I know you want to too. That’s why you have that sword in your hands.”

Lyrcai looks down at his sword. He wasn’t a fighter, he was a builder. His big gruff appearance made him look intimidating, but Ratau has personally worked and lived alongside him all his life. He knows there’s a gentle giant beneath all that muscle. He’s not a fighter, but he’s just as eager to protect what little he has left.

“Come on.” Ratau pleads. “People are going to worry about you if you stay up here. There aren’t many of us left, they’ll notice if you’re gone too long.” Ratau says this both to bring him back into the flock with the people he cares about, but also to ease the fears he’s keeping to himself. Lyrcai thinks there’s something wrong with him and that if he’s on his own he’ll get picked off. By inviting him back with the others, he’s squashing that fear of being singled out.

“Sorry, I’m…” After a moment of hesitation, Lyrcai drops the sword. “I’m just… out of it, I guess. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“I’m sorry that I did scare you.” Ratau tells him with a bit of guilt.

Together, they return to the rest of the flock. Lyrcai is still on edge, but for the moment at least, Ratau managed to convince him that there was no reason to fear him. Walking amongst the flock as he helps them clean the place up, he’s relieved to hear that they thought a little differently about him.

”Such a brave young man.”
”I could never do what he did for us.”
”Thank the gods he’s on our side.”

He supposes that’s still something he needs to set straight. There was a god to thank for sending him to their rescue, but they still do not know his name. Truth be told, neither did he. He knows that even indirect worship works though thanks to Oy who’s devotion fed the crown when he prayed for his father’s peace in the afterlife.

As the sun starts to set over the trees and the sky starts to dim, he knows what he has to do.

Gathering as much firewood as he can, he starts to stack it up on the small fire pit they had in the center of the clearing, creating a small but respectable bonfire that lights up the clearing and draws attention. Some of the flock had scattered, aimlessly wandering around the clearing with no idea of what to do. At the sight of the fire, all of them start to converge on it, all but the elder who remains in his tent.

Ratau prays that Karacyth will calm down soon and become responsive again. Everyone was looking at him now for help and he could really use the old man’s wisdom.

After everyone gathers around the fire, all of them look towards Ratau. He was not the strongest, oldest, or wisest of their village or even of the few who survived with him and he sure as hell isn’t the most collected amongst them, but he’s one of the few who are keeping their head above the water and trying to make things work. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was their new leader.

“Ches?” Ratau looks towards the old farm hand who has been trying her best to help the others. With how proactive she’s been, she’s essentially become his second in command in his eyes. “What were you and the others able to find out here?”

“Not much…” Ches sighs, letting out a slow exhale through her nose. “Some of those fanatics had wrapped meals or vegetables, but judging by what many of them carried and the bones we found scattered around the fire pit… I think they meant to eat us instead of eating into their reserves.”

Gnatri lets out a high pitched whine at the horrifying revelation, curling up and hiding her head between her legs.

“All together, the food we gathered from the dead and from the few wild bushes out here, we have maybe a couple of days of food for all fourteen of us.” Ches continues. “There’s just enough of the camp for us to sleep in the tents, but we aren’t going to be able to survive out here long term, at least not with what we have now.”

“Thank you, Ches.” Ratau nods, grateful for all the help she’s given. “Oy?” The young dog’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. “You’ve been taking care of Karacyth, right? Is he doing any better?”

“Not really.” Oy whimpers, his ears pressing flat on his head. “I’ve been counting the berries that I’ve left by his side though. He’s eating, not much, but he is eating.” Ratau sighs with relief hearing that, as do many other members of the flock. All of them cared a great deal for the elder and were afraid for his well being. Hearing that he had enough sense left in him to try and take care of himself means they might be able to get through to him eventually.

“I wanna go home!” Gnatri whines, tears stinging in her eyes as she looks out into the woods, wondering in which direction they’d all have to go to get back. “I just wanna go home and go to bed with Veatik and pretend none of this is happening!”

“This is home now.” Ratau tells her, sharing in her pain. “I searched high and low in our old village. There’s nothing left. The best we can do is start over from scratch here.”

“Why here?” Lyrcai asks, his eyes wandering up to the old shrine at the top of the clearing. “Why not rebuild what we lost? Why stay in this terrible place?”

All eyes fall on Ratau for an answer.

Taking the crown off his head and looking down into its crimson eye for support, Ratau takes a deep breath and tries his best to explain what happened and what he needs from them.

“This place used to be a holy ground for a god.” Ratau explains. “When the lamb first came to our village, Karacyth told me that his elders heard stories from their elders of a time before the lambs were hunted and the Old Faith ruled with an iron fist. A time where there were five bishops instead of four. You’ve seen the crumbling pillars and statues around here. Lyrcai, you saw the statue of the crown and the chained up temple doors beyond that arch. This place is all that remains of that fifth bishop, a god who was destroyed, one who had everything taken away from him, just like us.”

Murmurs start to rise from the crowd. Ratau keeps his eyes focused on the crown, rubbing his thumb against its smooth, untarnished surface.

“I didn’t make it out of our village alive.” Ratau admits. “I tried to save Karacyth and the lamb but was forced to retreat when one of those bishops tore through his home and slaughtered the lamb right in front of me. I ran and met my death in the woods a mile out, and that’s when I met him.”

“Who?” Lyrcai asks.

“What is this god’s name?” Ches questions him, holding Gnatri close to try and calm her down as she starts to rock back and forth.

“His name seems to have been forgotten by all.” Ratau sighs. “I’m sure he used to go by something else before he was banished, but he was introduced to me as The One Who Waits. An impossibly large and powerful being, brutalized and chained by the Old Faith, sitting in a pool of his own spilled blood. With what little power he still clung to, he gave me a second chance and offered to help me.”

“Why you?” Oy asks. Everyone turns to the young pup. “Why couldn’t it have been…” The boy shuts himself up, realizing how harsh what he was about to say sounded, but Ratau couldn’t blame him. Out of everyone in the village, he probably wasn’t the best pick, but it didn’t matter. He was chosen. Everyone else got to rest.

“The One Who Waits understood what I went through, what all of us went through. He’s experienced the same horror and pain himself.” Ratau continues. “He gave me this crown, holding his power and granting me a second chance at life. The Old Faith, the four bishops who rule over this land, are cruel, merciless tyrants who slaughtered us over a superstition they planted in people’s heads. None of us deserved what we got, but thanks to The One Below, we all have a second chance. A chance to make things right, a chance to live in peace from the Old Faith. A chance to bring that faith down completely as we start a new one, worshiping a kind and benevolent god who wants us to live in peace and worship him until he embraces us in death.”

“Until he what?” Gnatri asks in alarm at that last sentence.

“He’s…” Oy speaks up. “You said he’s taking care of my dad, right?”

“My pain went away when I arrived before him.” Ratau nods, assuring the young pup. “He blessed me again and healed my wounds after I collapsed from my grueling battle last night. I can assure you, all of you, that our friends that we’ve lost are at peace.”

Throughout the flock, a couple of his friends seem to take comfort in his words. They’ve all lost friends and family. Hearing that they were being watched over by a benevolent god eases some of that pain.

”Rest in peace, my beloved Aramer. I pray you’re treated with the care you deserve.”
”Thank you for keeping this young one safe and sending him to us.”
”Um… Mr. Waits? This is Gnatri. I don’t want to die at all, but… If something happens to me, please ensure it’s quick.”

With every bowed head, with every clasped hand, Ratau feels just a little bit stronger. Not everyone is fully bought into it, they’ve all lived either in ignorance of the Old Faith or while actively trying to avoid it. They won’t all be quick to start praying, but those who needed something to latch onto the most, who needed comfort in their darkest hour, got what they needed.

Ratau thinks he did a pretty good job for his first sermon. Returning the crown to his head, he stands up, looking over the field.

“I’m going to chop some wood so we can keep this fire going.” He announces, leaving everyone by the fire to pray and settle in as the sky starts to grow dark. Even after everything was taken from him, he’s still falling back onto his old chores, but with a bit of surprise, he realizes that there’s nothing to chop yet. He needs to take down a tree first. He’d be excited about the prospect of cutting down his first tree, but it’s only because the village lumberjack was dead.

Ratau starts off towards the nearest tree in the clearing, wondering how he’s going to take it down, when he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Ratau…” It’s Ches, and she looks very worried.

“Is there something wrong?” Ratau asks her, now worried himself. He’s about to pry into her head to find out exactly what’s on her mind, but she spits it out before he gets the chance to.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She asks him. “Are you sure what this god is telling you is true, that he has your best interests at heart? You said so yourself, you were scared last night. I saw how frightened you were once you saw what you did. Are you being forced into this, or do you genuinely believe you’re doing the right thing?”

Ratau looks up at her as a heavy feeling falls over his heart. He knows how much Ches lost, she had two daughters, neither of which were found here or back at the village. Ratau’s words should have been a comfort to her, but she isn’t allowing herself to start praying for things to get better. Peering into her mind, she doesn’t see a monster who killed over a dozen, or a young man trying his best to save what little he has left. She sees a young boy, still naive to how the greater world works, someone who’s small worldview was being abused and manipulated.

Maybe she’s right, maybe The One Below has ulterior motives, but what matters to Ratau is that with the power he was granted, he saved her life, as well as everyone else here. He would have gladly given his life to save all of them without signing into some shady deal. He was blessed to still be here, to be able to help more people

“I trust The One Who Waits fully.” Ratau says. “He saved all of us, and in return, I want to save him too. We deserve a lord who watches over us with care instead of the bishops who rule this land with an iron fist.” He says this with his chest, not letting even a sliver of doubt enter his voice. He is loyal to his new lord.

Hearing the confidence in his voice, Ches gives him a soft smile. “Alright.” She says, letting him go. “Just… Don’t push yourself too much, alright? I know you’re a young man now and… well I’m still not entirely sure what all has changed with you since we last saw each other, but we all still worry about you. Please don’t fault an old woman for looking after the youngins in our group.”

“I don’t, but trust me, I’m being taken care of.” Ratau tells her with a smile. “He’s taking care of all of us, even those of us who aren’t here anymore.”

Ches nods in understanding and turns to leave him, allowing Ratau to continue with his work. As she leaves though, he overhears a silent prayer she gives to The One Who Waits, one that feels like a dagger through his heart.

”If you really are as kind as Ratau thinks you are, please. Let him see his brother again. Ratoo sacrificed so much for everyone, let him see his little brother one more time.”

Ratau stands frozen on the spot for several seconds, finding himself unable to breathe in that time. This, along with Ches’ earlier thoughts when he rescued her, settles into his gut like a stone.

Ches fully believed that Ratoo was dead. He doesn’t know why she’s so sure, but she is. Ratau desperately wants her to be wrong, he wants his brother to be hiding somewhere safe, someplace out of reach of the Old Faith, but the only place that’s completely outside the bishops’ control is that cold, quiet abyss his god is chained in.

Ratau searched through the entire village and buried who he couldn’t save here. He’s confirmed the deaths of over a hundred of his friends and neighbors, but the fate of his brother is still left in the air. He was The One Who Waits’ chosen vessel, but he needed comfort too. Reaching up and taking the crown off his head, he holds it in front of him, resting his forehead against it as he mumbles out a prayer.

“Please do me this one favor for my service.” He pleads. “If he really is gone, give him someplace nice and quiet to sleep and tell him that I’m ok. I don’t know how long this crusade will last, but when my duty is done, I want to see him again.”

Raising his head and looking down at the crown, it does not respond to him and stares blankly back. He guesses he wasn’t expecting an answer from the crown itself. With a deep breath to ground himself, he makes his way to his first tree and in a flurry of moving shadows, the crown in his hands turns into an axe.

Desperate to clear his mind, Ratau starts chopping. It’s going to be a long time before he’s allowed to rest.

For the first time since he’s been crowned, Ratau actually felt fatigued.

He stayed up late into the night, diligently working while everyone else slept. There was so much work that needed to be done to make this place livable but so few able bodied hands to do it. A large stockpile of wood was necessary to keep the fire going and to start laying down foundations. These tents won’t do if a storm blows through, they need a sturdy structure to hunker down in when the wind blows.

The One Who Waits wants a temple too. That should serve them just fine. Everyone will gather under the same roof, protected from the elements by The One Below.

With how much he chopped down, he thinks he might have enough wood here to build it, though he’s going to need more tools. The Red Crown has proven to be more than helpful, but he isn’t going to be able to build a temple from nothing all by himself.

Maybe he can build new tools? The rubble and crumbled statues around him look like they’re made of pretty sturdy stone. He doubts his lord will mind if he breaks down his already ruined temple to help build the new one. His arms are sore from all the swinging and hauling, but he’s still got enough energy to chisel away at the-

“Ratau?” Ratau is startled by the first voice he hears in hours and turns around to find Lyrcai walking towards him, rubbing at his eyes. “What are you doing out here so early?”

“Oh, I was gonna start knocking some of these pillars down so we could use the stone to make foundations and tools.” Ratau explains. “We’re going to have to build this place up if we’re going to be living here.”

“Did you not sleep?” Lyrcai asks with some alarm, looking out at the work Ratau’s done already. There was a massive pile of lumber near the clearing edge. He thinks he chopped down around thirty trees overnight.

“I’m not…” He didn’t really think about it, but he realizes with a bit of surprise that he didn’t stop to rest once all night. He originally planned on working until he was tired enough to fall asleep, but that never happened. “I guess my arms are kinda sore. Maybe I should take a break.” Ratau lets the axe fall from his hands and it quickly returns to his head as the crown. Lyrcai’s eyes follow its movements.

”I still don’t like that thing. Poor kid’s gonna pull something if he keeps working this hard.”

“Everyone’s starting to wake up now.” Lyrcai tells him. “Let’s sit you down and get you something to eat. You must be starving.”

“Oh, I’m…” Once again, Ratau is surprised to find that his stomach isn’t growling. Lyrcai’s eyes linger on him and Ratau doesn’t need to read his mind to know that he’s concerned. “I could use something to eat.” Ratau tells him, making Lyrcai sigh with relief as he moves to the fire in the center of the clearing. Ratau doesn’t want to eat into their small food supply if he doesn’t need it, but if seeing him eat puts everyone’s mind at ease, it’ll be worth it. Besides, just because he doesn’t need to eat doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to.

Returning to the fire, more people start to wake as the sky starts to light up. Ratau sits himself down as everyone starts to gather. He counts everyone off, making sure everyone is present. Looking to Oy, the pup shakes his head at him. Karacyth was still in his tent. Ratau prays that he slept well.

“Oh no…” Ratau’s ears perk up when Gnatri suddenly becomes distressed. “Oh no, oh no.”

“What’s wrong?” Ratau asks her, only for her to jolt at the sound of his voice.

“There’s… Please don’t be mad but…” Ches holds Gnatri close, trying to calm her down enough to get what she needs to say out. “I don’t know if there’s enough food for everyone today. There might be enough for breakfast, but…”

Worry starts to spread throughout the flock. Food was never an issue back home. Ches and all the other farmers worked diligently to make sure there was always something to eat. They had no crops, no mills, no cooking utensils, nothing. Just a few berries and individual meals carried by the cultists which have already been eaten through. They were going to starve unless they found food quickly.

Rising back to his feet, Ratau moves towards the shrine at the top of the clearing.

“Ratau?” Ches stands up too. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go looking for food.” Ratau explains, turning around to address the flock. “I promised that I would.”

“Just sit down for a second, kid!” Lyrcai rises now too. “You’ve been working all night, let us handle this. If you keep pushing yourself like this you’re gonna drop dead!”

“I’ll be fine.” Ratau insists. “I’ll get back up.”

“Let us help you, Ratau.” Ches pleads with him. Both she and Lyrcai stare down at him. Ratau tries to take a step back and they step forward to match him.

”He just wants to help and provide like his brother, but the boy’s gonna hurt himself.”
”This kid has no idea what his limits are. Someone’s gotta help carry his burdens.”

“I’m not a kid.” Ratau grumbles angrily at both of them. “I can take care of myself. I trekked through the woods all night and fought off a dozen men to save you. I can find some food for us just fine on my own.”

Everyone’s looking at him now, and prodding their minds, he gets the same response from almost all of them. They were grateful for his help, they all knew he held unimaginable power, they all looked up to him for guidance… but they still saw him as a kid, not the young man he grew into.

“Fine…” Ratau relents. “You two can help. If anything goes wrong though, if something happens and we’re in danger, let me handle it. The One Below chose me, not you. If something wrong happens to me, he’ll bring me back, if something happens to you…”

“We can handle ourselves too,” Lyrcai tries to argue, but Ches nudges him lightly with her elbow and he changes his tune, “but alright. We’ll run right back here at the first sign of trouble.”

“Thank you.” Ratau says with a relieved sigh. The cow and ox step forward to join his side, but Ratau remains by the fire for a moment longer to address everyone else. “All of you, eat what you can and try to stay busy. There’s plenty of wood for the fire, but I’ve chopped more over there if you want to try making something. We’re going to need tools to build homes, to till soil, to cook food. I should be back soon with food to fuel you, but until then, you’re going to have to take care of yourselves.”

“But what if…” Gnatri speaks up only to quiet down when everyone turns to face her. “Sorry to interrupt, but what if more of those people in hoods come back?”

“There are swords lying around.” Lyrcai gestures out around the clearing. “Use ‘em.” Not many people are comforted by the thought that they might have to defend themselves so Ratau quickly interjects.

“I won’t be gone long.” He promises. “I’ll be back before sundown at the latest. You have nothing to worry about. I’m in good hands, remember?”

Everyone seems to accept that response and with some reluctance, they let him go. As Ratau turns to leave with Ches and Lyrcai in tow, he feels a slight surge of strength fill his body as his crown seems to intercept the prayers they send his way.

”You’ve taken Ratau this far, please bring him back home safe.”
”Give Ratau the strength he needs on his journey, please.”
”I’m not sure praying for this will work, but if you’re able, let Ratau come back with something sweet. I miss Jooson’s berry bread.”

Ratau chuckles a little at that last request, earning the attention of Ches and Lyrcai as they walk with him. “Sorry.” He says with a smirk. “Just thought of a funny joke that Ratoo…” He quiets down, grief closing up his throat as he reminds himself of what he lost. Lyrcai lets out a tired huff, understanding his pain and Ches turns away, staring off into the distance. “Ches?” Ratau turns to her. She’s never said anything about him out loud, but he needs to know. “What happened to Ratoo?”

Ches freezes. Ratau doesn’t need the crown's help to tell that she’s conflicted and doesn’t want to tell him. Ratau doesn’t move either, standing right by her side until she speaks. Lyrcai doesn’t step in or try to get them moving again. He wants to know too.

“He’s gone.” Ches tells him, leaving no room for doubt. “During the raid on our home, he fought his hardest to keep everyone back. When that… thing showed up, he was struck down by several cloaked figures who followed the creature. Hathor begged them to spare him, but…” With every word, Ratau feels his heart sink lower and lower into his guts. Ches turns to face him and looks pained when she sees his grief. “They were both taken away. All of us would have been dead if you hadn’t shown up when you did. With how much time has passed and with how comparatively ruthless these men were… I’m sorry…”

Ratau tries to suck in a deep breath through the tightness in his chest. “Thank you…” He chokes out. “I’ve already made my prayers, but thank you for telling me.” Ratau faces forward and tries to keep moving. “I’m sure he’s enjoying his rest now.”

Neither Ches or Lyrcai say a word as he marches towards the stairs, silently following after him as he tries to swallow his grief. Whenever he sees The One Who Waits again, he’ll have to ask about his brother.

Marching up the stairs, Ratau is forced to pay attention to his surroundings again as he approaches the strange magical markings on the ground. He moves around the smooth stone in the center of the archway and seeing his caution around it, the others avoid it too. Passing the archway into the site of the shrine.

Ches freezes at the sight of the dead zealot who’s been left by the sacrificial slab in front of the statue of the crown. “Oh…” She shudders. “I forgot about this one.”

“I’m not even sure you would have been able to move him for burial anyways.” Lyrcai tells her before his eyes fall on Ratau. “How’d you even manage to take down such a big bastard anyways? It didn’t look like he had any cuts.”

“I don’t…” Ratau still isn’t sure what exactly he did to this man. All he knows is he’d rather not do it again if he can help it. He felt paradoxically all powerful and powerless in the moment. He was calling upon something truly terrible to destroy the man, but he wasn’t able to do anything else as his body was used as a conduit.

“You don’t have to relive those memories Ratau.” Ches assures him. “We’re just glad you’re still with us.” Trying her best to ignore the corpse in the grass, she looks over at all the doors and the large statue in the center of the shrine. “Why did we come out here? Shouldn’t we head for the forest?”

“I wanted to see if we could maybe get inside one of these doors.” Ratau explains. “They look like they might lead to old temples. If sacrifices are being made to the bishops, maybe they’re given offerings too right past these doors.”

“Are you sure stealing the offerings would be a good idea?” Lyrcai asks. “We’ve angered the gods enough, we don’t need those things coming around here.”

“We’re hungry. We don’t have much of a choice.” Ratau reasons, approaching the least threatening looking door sealed closed with vines and camellias. The crown leaves his head, forming into a dagger as he approaches the door. Both his friends let out repressed gasps at the sight, but he ignores them for now. They’re going to have to get used to that, this crown was better than any tool he could ask for, he was going to be using it a lot.

Taking the blade to the vines, he’s shocked when his blade bounces off of them, the sudden impact reverberating painfully up his arm. He pulls his arm back, rubbing at it as his crown returns to his head, but he notices it rattle around on top of him a couple of times before it settles. It probably felt that impact too.

“Well, that’s that plan out the window.” Lyrcai sighs, and Ratau can tell it’s with relief. “Let’s try giving the woods a try. I’m not sure if any of us have ever foraged outside of our village, but we’ve got to find something right? More berries at least.”

“I’m sure we will.” Ches says. “The earth provides. We’re going to need to start planting things ourselves, but wild crops should grow out there somewhere for us to take advantage of.”

“Let’s move then.” Ratau winces, rolling his shoulder to try and work out the pain. The three of them make their way back to the archway and the stairs, but glancing back, Ratau stops in front of the statue of the crown. “Actually, there’s one more thing I want to try. Do you two want to pray with me?”

“Hmm?” Ches turns around, staring up at the statue with him. “To the statue?”

“He told me he wanted me to build him a shrine.” Ratau says. “Someplace for devotion to gather. We don’t have much, but maybe if we pray to this, it will help him bless us in our search.”

“This is stupid…” Lyrcai sighs. “We never relied on divine intervention before. We can figure things out without having to gather around and clasp our hands together.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try.” Ratau points out. He’d point out that it’s thanks to divine intervention that he’s even here right now, but everyone’s still convinced that The One Below and the crown on his head might not have his best interests at heart. “It will just take a minute. We’re all praying that we find something anyways, why not direct those prayers?”

“Fine.” Lyrcai huffs, clasping his hands together and bowing his head. Ches does the same and so Ratau joins them in prayer, clasping his hands and bowing his head towards the statue of the crown.

“My lord.” Ratau closes his eyes and prays aloud, hoping to guide his friends in the prayer. “We wish to serve you and rebuild this holy place, but we cannot serve you hungry. Please help guide us from the peace of your realm. Point us in the right direction so that we can stay strong and healthy as we build your temple. Please, bless us.”

After a couple moments of silence, Ratau opens his eyes and looks up at the statue, only to be startled as something wet falls down his cheeks. His vision is dark and obscured, but he suddenly finds he’s unable to blink or lift his hands to wipe at his eyes. He’s stuck staring into the unblinking stone eye of the statue in front of him.

Before his eyes, the statue suddenly erupts into flames. The once still eye in its center burns a brilliant red as heat and hellfire billow out of it. Ratau feels hands on him as Lyrcai and Ches try to drag him back to safety, but his feet are rooted to the ground, his eyes unblinking and staring into the fire.

With one last brilliant flash of light, the flames die out and Ratau finds himself lying on the ground with a dull pain thrumming in the back of his head.

“Ow…” Ratau clutches at the back of his head and feels a welt forming where his friends must have accidentally thrown him to the ground the moment he was able to move. They too are sprawled out in the dirt, but seeing him move again, they both scramble up to help him.

“Ratau! What just happened?! Are you alright?!” Ches tries to shake some sense into him.

“You’re bleeding, kid!” Lyrcai’s thumb is smeared across Ratau’s cheeks and it comes away red and wet. “We’ll get you back to Oy, don’t worry.”

“I’m fine!” Ratau insists, pushing himself to his feet and batting away their reaching arms. “I’m not hurt, I just…” He looks up at the statue, noticing a couple streams of black leak from its eye. It leaves him feeling incredibly anxious, but his eyes spot something even more shocking.

The door he tried to open earlier…

It’s open!

“Look!” Ratau directs the attention of his fussy friends towards the open door. “He opened the door for us! He’s guiding us just like we asked!”

Neither of them look as excited as Ratau felt.

“I don’t…” Lyrcai looks rattled at the sight of it. “I don’t think we should go in there.”

“Please Ratau, let’s just head back.” Ches pleads. “We’ll look elsewhere.”

“What, why?!” Ratau slips out from their grasp and steps towards the door. They take a step to follow him but hesitate, not wanting to get too close to the statue after what it did. “I’ll admit, that was scary. A lot of what our lord does is scary, but he’s trying to help us. He wants me to go through that door.”

His friends look at each other and Ratau can tell that they’re not a fan of this. They want to help, they’re still trying to support what they see as a little kid, but they’re the ones acting like children if they’re going to chicken out now.

“Maybe we split up.” Lyrcai suggests. “We’ll check the woods nearby, you focus on whatever’s past that door. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“N- no!” Ches tries to hold him in place. “We can’t just let Ratau wander through there all by himself! He could get hurt, he could-”

“I’ll be fine!” Ratau raises his voice, silencing Ches and leaving her stunned. “I appreciate you worrying about me like everyone else, but I’m the last person you should be worrying about. I’ve never been in safer hands, and through him, I want to keep you safe too.”

They just witness first hand the divine powers of The One Who Waits, there should be no room for doubt left in their minds. The doubt wasn’t what held them back though, it was concern. They were scared for him, and he isn’t sure if that feeling is ever going to go away. Ratau’s about to give up all hope that they’ll let him go without a fuss, when Ches suddenly relents.

“You’ll be back before sunset, right?” She asks.

“I promise.” Ratau nods. “And I’ll be back with a bounty. We’ll have a feast in honor of The One Who Waits and our new home.”

“Just be careful out there, Ratau.” Lyrcai says, backing away with Ches in tow. “You’re certainly braver than I am if you’re willing to venture out there all alone. I just wish I could do something to help you out.”

“Watch over everyone while I’m gone.” Ratau tells them. “People look up to you two, probably more than me right now. They’ll feel safe having you around to guide them while I’m gone. I’m trusting you two to keep order while I’m away.”

“And we’re trusting you to come home safe.” Ches says, though it’s clear she doesn’t want to let him go at all. He’s headstrong though, he’s leaving no matter what. “Please don’t make this old woman worry when night falls without you.”

“It won’t.” Ratau promises. “I’ll be here.”

With his promises made, Ratau turns to face the now opened door as his friends retreat back down the stairs to the open clearing. Despite putting on a brave face, he feels anxious as he approaches. Who knows how long this place has been locked up or why so much power was needed to open it. What if it was sealed for a reason.

The crown rests atop of his head, but he can feel it’s ready to fly to his hand at a moment’s notice to strike down anything that might mean him harm.

With a deep breath, Ratau steps through the opened door into whatever waits beyond it.

Chapter Text

Ratau thought he was going to be walking into a temple or some sort of holy ground. Instead he finds himself deep in the Darkwood again, his sense of direction completely thrown off track. He could have sworn he was still walking north, but the sun is now rising directly in front of him. He walked straight through the door, didn’t he? How did he get turned around?

He presses forward through the woods despite how odd everything was. He was led here and he needs to search through the woods for something to eat anyways. This was also his chance to explore the woods a bit more thoroughly without nearly as much pressure. He still has a time limit, but no one’s going to die if he gets distracted out here…

He hopes not, anyways.

The cool grass beneath his feet, the constant shade the trees provided, the chirping of birds as they fly just above the trees. It’s quite pleasant now that he isn’t being chased through them or desperately trying to rescue everyone he cared about from being sacrificed. He’s sure he would have loved becoming a guard for the village if it meant he was able to walk around out here.

If only his brother were still around to share this walk with him.

It isn’t long before Ratau manages to find some stuff worth grabbing, and luckily for him, he doesn’t have to haul everything back. Camellias litter the forest floor and it isn’t uncommon to find a berry bush or two as he moves from clearing to clearing. There’s also of course stuff that anyone would be happy to find while hiking through the woods; really big sticks, cool looking rocks, and one fat, colorful looking beetle. Everything is dropped into the waiting maw of the Red Crown which hovers conveniently beside him whenever he finds something new to place in it.

“Just make sure you don’t chew up all those berries.” He tells it as it rests on his head. “Our lord said you feed off devotion. Save the people food for the people.”

It isn’t until he gets incredibly lucky and finds an apple tree that he questions the bottomless pit resting on top of his head. While shaking the tree and trying to knock as many apples loose as possible, the crown floats around in the air, catching apples as they fall. Realizing that he hadn’t eaten anything before he left, Ratau reaches out for the crown and digs his arm in there to try and grab one to munch on while he works, only for him to be startled by how empty it felt.

Looking into the black abyss of the crown, he sees none of the food he gathered, the cool rocks or camellias, not even the bug he tossed in there. Reaching his arm in again, his hands brush against all kinds of things, but there’s something floating around in there that he doesn’t immediately recognize. Grabbing hold of it and pulling it free, Ratau is startled to find there’s a book inside of it.

“What is this?!” He definitely didn’t put this in here himself. It was a hefty tome, the crown had to expand quite a bit just for him to pull it out. Was this left for him intentionally, or was this a personal belonging of his lord. Was this his diary maybe? “He’s not going to get mad at me if I open this, is he?” Ratau asks the Red Crown who floats beside him. It’s quick to shake itself side to side. He won’t get mad.

With that assurance in place, Ratau undoes the seal binding the book shut and opens it. Inside, he finds countless yellowing pages covered top to bottom in writing, the same occult symbols he saw etched around the shrine back home, and other diagrams seemingly showing him how to properly carve his own evil shrines. It was a heavy tome resting just under his nose with what looks like years of useful information about the magical world he’s found himself in.

If only he could read.

The pictures don’t help him all that much and his excitement and wonder quickly fades as the book reveals itself to be a useless bundle of paper to him. Karacyth could read, but he couldn’t help in his current condition. Even if he was fully able right now, he’d probably be hesitant to read from a book which clearly dabbles in powers beyond mortal capabilities. Closing and resealing the book, he stuffs it back into the crown and continues his work, kicking at the apple tree to try and dislodge more fruit.

He’s probably got enough to last everyone a few more days, but with the sun still hanging high in the sky, Ratau continues, pushing deeper into the forest to see what other treasures he could find. Everyone was worrying back home, if he can bring back enough food to last them a week, maybe they’ll finally trust in him.

Seeing the critters skittering around the branches and leaves, he briefly wonders if he’d be able to catch them with his enhanced strength and agility, when his ears perk up at a familiar sound. The light clinking of metal in the wind. Is that… Wandering through the woods and following the sound, he suddenly finds himself staring up at the same golden trinkets he found a couple nights ago dangling from the branches.

This isn’t the same stretch of woods he explored on his way to rescue his friends, this is someplace entirely new. Is this a common practice? Was there someone else living out here, another fortune teller maybe?

With some hesitation, Ratau steps beneath the golden stars and finds himself in another small clearing where a tent and fireplace sat at the center. Just like last time, he’s facing the back of the tent. Slowly approaching it from behind, he starts to round the corner and freezes when he spots the man resting inside.

“Welcome back, Ratau.” It’s the same guy! It’s Clauneck!

“What the hell?!” Ratau leaps back, his crown forming a dagger which he holds at arms length between him and the creepy ghost owl. “What’s going on?! Where did you go that night? How are you here all of a sudden?”

Clauneck lets out a hearty laugh at his scare before taking a deep breath to settle himself. “Rest easy, young one. I mean you no harm. You have quickly adapted to plenty of frightening things. You will learn to cherish the sight of the stars over my humble tent.”

“What are you.” Ratau demands, circling around him until he’s facing the front of his tent but still keeping his distance. “You told me you weren’t a god, but you sure act like one. You aren’t normal.”

“I wear no crown and am worshiped by none.” Clauneck explains, unbothered by the hostility Ratau shows him. “If you must have an explanation, picture me as a vessel, much like yourself. You are not a god either, yet you possess strength no mortal can match and call upon dark powers. You are a servant of The One Who Waits, I am a servant of Fate.”

“And what is fate having you do?” Ratau asks, lowering his dagger. The old man hasn’t left his tent at all and remains seated and smiling.

“Helping those it takes fancy to learn their fortunes.” The fortune teller says, raising a bony hand to gesture towards the tarot deck in front of him. “Shall we?”

Letting go of his dagger, Ratau cautiously approaches Clauneck as his crown returns to his head. “Do you want your old card back?” He asks. “My crown ate it and I’m not sure it liked it.”

“This one?” Raising his other hand from his lap, Clauneck holds a card between his feathery fingers and to Ratau’s shock, it’s the same exact one he was left with two nights ago. “Strength from without. What does not kill you, makes you stronger. I trust the strength it granted you came in handy.”

“I don’t even know what it did.” Ratau shakes his head. He isn’t sure how a thin piece of paperboard could have served him in his fight. Was that card what caused those tentacles to erupt from the ground? The picture on it certainly looked scary enough.

“Each of the cards in this deck offers a boon to you.” Clauneck explains. “Some grant you strength, others may soothe your pain, and many will have fortune favor you. Their blessings are fleeting, but you are not going to stay out here for long today, are you?”

“That’s the plan.” Ratau nods. He’s already turned down help from two of his friends, he’s going to need some sort of assistance out here.

“I do not have any new fortunes to read today, but you are free to draw a card if you wish.” Clauneck offers, gesturing to two cards lying facedown on the rug in front of him. “Whichever one you draw will determine your fate.”

Kneeling down in front of the fortune teller, Ratau reaches out for one of the cards, but stops himself before he takes any. “Will you at least stick around and explain what the card means this time?” Ratau asks. The owl nods and after taking a couple of seconds to decide, Ratau takes the card on his left.

“Ah… Nature’s boon.” Clauneck hums as Ratau looks down at the card depicting two logs separated by strange symbols. “Your cornucopia runneth over. Your flock will be pleased by the bountiful harvest you return to them.”

“I guess this card isn’t nearly as convoluted as the oth…” Ratau looks up from the card to reply to the owl but finds nothing but an open clearing. The fortune teller vanished again, along with everything in his camp. “Are all divine beings this weird?” Ratau shudders slightly at how creepy the owl’s sudden departure is as the crown lifts off his head. “Eat up buddy.” Dropping the card into the crown’s inventory, it spasms again, reacting to whatever magical powers it holds before it settles and returns to his head.

Leaving the clearing, Ratau continues his search for food, hoping that this card along with the blessing of his lord will help him find more than enough to bring home.

It’s now well past noon.

Ratau should try heading back the way he came so he can make it home before sundown like he promised, but there was just so much stuff out here. Sharpened stone and flints beside a flowing stream, wild carrots and roots growing in the soil he walked on, more berries of every size and color. He’s carrying enough food to fatten everyone back home up if they didn’t bother rationing it, and even then they’d have enough to gorge themselves for days.

If what Clauneck said was true, favor’s fortune would not last, he needed to grab as much as he could now while he was still blessed. He can spend another hour or two out here searching. He won’t be carefully scavenging on his way back, he won’t need as much time to return home. He presses through the thicket, wondering what else he’ll be able to find out here, when a mouthwatering smell suddenly hits his nose.

Meat. Greasy, seasoned, red meat.

Ratau can’t remember the last time he ate meat. The small critters that live out in the woods never ventured too close to the village and there were not many people who were willing to leave safety to hunt them. It was something that those few hunters reserved for themselves, but with Ratoo patrolling out in the woods for everyone’s protection, he was sometimes given gifts for his brave work and did some hunting himself. It was a delicacy that not many people in the village were afforded. Everyone back home will lose their minds if he brings back meat for them to eat.

He charges through the forest, letting his nose guide him. It doesn’t occur to Ratau that in order for the scent he’s following to smell this good, someone had to have been cooking it. Stepping out of the brush and into a clearing, Ratau is suddenly met with five very confused men in dark cloaks.

The moment he registers who they are, they all suddenly fall upon him.

A dagger flies into his hands and he slashes at the air in front of him to keep everyone back, but a sudden searing pain running down his back forces him to turn around. His quick reaction helps him land a solid blow on the man who snuck up on him, his dagger digging deep into his chest, but he’s now left his back exposed to the four men he tried to hold off a second prior.

They grab hold of him, gripping at his ears and arms, trying to hold him down as more blades are jammed into his back. The pain and shock nearly causes him to drop his dagger as strength quickly bleeds out of his body, but just as suddenly as the shock comes, something burns away inside of him and releases itself just as another blade goes for his throat.

A powerful energy explodes from Ratau’s body, throwing everyone off of him in a sudden flash of red. Ratau stumbles forward, blinded by the blood leaking from his eyes caused by whatever magic he just instinctively cast. The pain of the multiple wounds in his back nearly makes him collapse, but he forces himself to stay upright and he spins around on his attackers, holding his blade out to hit whoever is still too close.

One of the zealots recovers quickly from the blast and charges forward to rush Ratau down only for his dagger to catch his throat when he slashes in a panic. The zealot clutches at his neck as he falls to the ground. Two down, three to go.

The remaining three zealots rush Ratau all at once, using their superior numbers to their advantage. The pain keeps Ratau from backing away and they quickly converge on him despite his desperate slashes to keep them at bay. He thinks he gets a couple good cuts in as they reach for him, but a sword slash to the chest and a fist to his face knocks all sense out of him.

Thankfully for him, as demonstrated when he was attacked in the remains of his village, the crown has a mind of its own.

As Ratau flies back from the punch to the face, his dagger flies from his hand and embeds itself into the chest of one of the three zealots, twisting before ripping itself free and returning to Ratau. The remaining two zealots are stunned by the sudden autonomy of the dagger, giving Ratau just enough time to scramble to his feet, still weary and disoriented from the pain.

Both zealots charge forward again, though instead of aiming for center mass, they instead go for Ratau’s right arm in an attempt to disarm him. Ratau manages to deflect one of their blades with his dagger, but the second sword comes in shortly after, stabbing through his wrist and causing him to drop his weapon as he cries out in pain.

Before the dagger can hit the ground, it quickly floats up to Ratau’s left and he brings it up to stab into the head of the zealot who impaled him.

The remaining zealot brings his sword up to strike Ratau while his dagger is lodged in his friend, but Ratau quickly pushes away, falling backwards and landing on his back as he just barely avoids the sword swipe. The zealot raises his sword over his head, aiming to cleave Ratau in two while he’s stuck on the ground unarmed and defenseless.

Freeing itself from the head it was embedded in, the Red Crown flies through the air to return to its bearer, slashing at the zealot’s leg before it returns to Ratau’s left hand. The zealot stumbles and starts to fall from the sudden pain in his leg and Ratau lunges upwards to capitalize on it, striking at him while he’s off balance.

Ratau manages to drive the dagger into the last zealot’s heart, taking both of them to the ground.

Ratau gasps for breath, feeling every inch of his being cry out in pain. The crown nestles itself back onto his head, its job done. After a few good deep breaths, Ratau forces himself to try and sit up, nearly blacking out when he puts weight on his right hand to prop himself up.

Everything went so wrong so fast…

He got caught off guard this time. He’s got to make sure he doesn’t walk into an ambush like this again. Even with all this power at his disposal, he’s still flesh and blood. He made it out alive though, just barely. He thinks he’s ready to go home now.

As he struggles to get back to his feet, he’s reminded of what drove him into such a stupid confrontation in the first place. Looking around, he finds a small camp nearby where the zealots must have been staying and on a cooking spit over an open fire is a large haunch of meat dripping with grease and fat.

He’ll take a bite of that, stuff it into the crown, and head home. He’s gonna need something to distract everyone from his grievous injuries.

Slowly shuffling over, he kneels down by the fire and reaches out to take it off its spit, when he feels a cold chill settle over him. He turns around as quickly as his injuries will allow and finds that he didn’t quite finish the job. The first zealot he struck down, the one who got the first cheap hit on him, was still writhing around on the ground.

Ratau feels he should probably get up and put the guy out of his misery, but it’s this very same zealot who injured him enough to leave him stuck in place. He brought this on himself. Ratau tries to ignore him so he can get his energy back up and enjoy the meal he fought and nearly died to secure, but the air continues to grow colder around him. Something’s happening. He looks back over at the zealot. He isn’t curled up in a ball or fighting through the pain to crawl to safety or to avenge his friends.

With his hands wetted with his own blood, he drags his fingers across the grass, drawing something into the earth.

“H-hey!” Ratau struggles to shout at him. “What are you doing? Stop that!” He doesn’t know what the zealot could be doing, but he’s seen enough creepy drawings and symbols to know that it isn’t good. The air continues to grow colder and colder. A sudden breeze starts to blow into the clearing, rustling through the grass and fanning the fire beside him. “Stop it!”

This was bad. Really, really bad. He needs to stop him. Pushing back to his feet, Ratau waddles towards him, trying his best to ignore the pain of the cold wind blowing against his cuts. The zealot pays him no mind, pouring all of his attention into drawing the sigil in the grass as he quickly bleeds out.

Ratau summons a dagger to his hand, ready to put an end to the zealots ritual, but the zealot’s injuries do him in before he can be reached. His head hits the dirt and his outstretched hand falls down onto the occult symbols he was trying to draw. Ratau stares down at the fallen zealot, dagger still in hand. It doesn’t look like he finished, but something terrible hung in the air.

Ratau quickly whips around as something cuts through the grass behind him. He holds his dagger out in front of him as the sky darkens. The chilling breeze that blew in only a moment ago now tore through the clearing in powerful gusts, uprooting the grass and camellias in the ground and blowing over the campsite. The fire is smothered out and Ratau watches with grief as the cooking spit is toppled over by the wind and the haunch of meat he was so desperate to eat falls right into the smoldering ash of the fire pit.

Something’s approaching him. Something’s been summoned to the Darkwood by the zealot’s markings. Ratau grips his dagger tight as he stares out into the woods, forcing himself to stand up tall despite his injuries. Even the dagger seems to shudder in his hands from fear, the eye on its hilt darting around looking for danger.

He stands his ground, trying to stay upright as the wind pelts him from all angles, but just as suddenly as it appeared, the wind starts to taper off. There’s still a deep chill in the air though, enough to fog his breath as he struggles to breathe. He keeps his eyes wide open, scanning the tree line for monsters or more zealots.

It isn’t until he stops to take a deep breath that he hears something breathing heavily behind him.

Ratau spins around and slashes his dagger out in front of him, hoping to catch whatever’s sneaking up on him, but he freezes mid swing when he finds himself standing before the same horrific beast that tore through his village.

Before he can attack, scream, run, anything, vines erupt from the ground and grab hold of him. Large thorns dig into his flesh and tear is already open wounds apart as he’s slowly lifted into the air. His arms are pinned to his sides and the dagger in his hand refuses to move, seemingly paralyzed by the sight of the bishop. Ratau’s completely unable to move as he feels every bone in his body threaten to break under the unrelenting pressure being applied to him.

He stares up at the bishop, watching as the crown upon its leafy head stares back down at him.

“How pathetic…” Ratau feels his blood turn to ice when the bishop speaks. “A tiny little runt like you slaughtering five of those who claim to be my strongest followers. Worthless, each and every one of them, fit only for sacrifices if a kid like you slew them.”

“I’m…” Ratau chokes out, struggling to get any air into his chest. “I’m… not a… kid!”

Ratau wishes he stayed quiet when he sees a mile wide, razor toothed smile split the bishop’s face in two.

“Ooh… A feisty one, aren’t you?” The bishop sniggers. “Not even the bravest of warriors would dare raise their voice against a god. Tell me, child, are you braver than my strongest, or are you blind as well?” Ratau can feel the vines holding him in place relax just enough for him to get a breath in.

“I can see you just fine, you murderer!” Ratau hisses out, squirming around to try and free his arm and cut at the vines. “If I had a torch, I’d light those leaves on fire and watch you burn!” The god’s smile grows wider as it breaks out into laughter. The vines around his body constrict again, choking the air out of him.

“I see you are neither brave nor blind, but a complete, naïve fool!” The god beams. “Perhaps I could use a jester to entertain myself and my faithful. What do you say? You have proven to be competent enough to slaughter five of my devout. Pledge your loyalty to me, learn my teachings and become more than a useless fool.” The vines relax once more, allowing Ratau to answer.

“Never…” Ratau hisses in rising pain and anger. “Not after what you did to my village. Not after what you did to the lamb! I will not rest until you are slain, bishop! I am sworn to-” Ratau’s voice is cut off as even more pressure is applied to his body, crushing the air out of him and nearly crushing his bones.

“Hmm…” The bishop sounds disappointed. “You wouldn’t make for a good fool either. Your jokes aren’t as funny the second time around. At the very least, I will enjoy hearing your bones break and your guts spill when you pop, rat!”

The vines constrict even tighter, squeezing all air out of Ratau as he desperately tries to wiggle himself free. He feels his insides bruise as everything is pressed together, he feels the ache in his bones as they threaten to snap.

All at once, his body gives out as the pressure becomes too much to bear and the vines crush his tiny body into a gorey mess.

He jolts upright, gasping for breath as he suddenly finds himself able to breathe. The worst of the pain is gone, but he still feels twisted up and compressed. His arms feel like they’re bent in weird angles and his insides feel loose and bruised.

He’s back in the cold, foggy afterlife again, his pain quickly fading. He can’t help but feel frustrated though. That was one of the bishops! He had it right in reach, but he’s still too weak to do anything. Even the crown which now rested on his head again was afraid and powerless.

“Oh!” Stepping in through the fog, Baal, the kinder of the two brothers, steps forward to lead him to their lord but is startled by the shape Ratau’s in. “What… If it’s not rude to ask, what happened to you?”

“I…” Ratau resists the urge to look down at himself to see how mangled he was. “I got squished by a bishop.”

“You confronted one of the traitors already?!” Baal asks with shock. “I’m surprised there’s anything left of you at all. I’m sure our lord will be pleased with how quickly you tried to follow his wishes, but I’m afraid you still have a long time to go before you are strong enough to face the traitors in combat.”

None of this is news to Ratau. Of course he isn’t strong enough. He had the Red Crown, but that thing had a crown of its own and was at least twenty times larger than him. Even if no divine power was in play at all, all the bishop would need to do is step on him and he’d be a red stain.

“Worry not, chosen vessel.” Baal steps forward, offering Ratau a hand. “Your injuries will soon fade. Let us meet the lord to set you back on the right path.”

Reaching out, Ratau takes the offered hand, marveling at the fact that the still visible wound in his wrist didn’t hurt at all. Rising to his feet, Baal turns to guide him through the afterlife to their chained lord. It isn’t really necessary, it was impossible to ignore the divine presence nearby, but it was nice to have company out here. He supposes that’s what the purpose of Baal and his brother serve, to guide and comfort those who have died.

“What are you, exactly?” Ratau asks the cat. He wouldn’t dare ask Aym who seemed to perpetually have a stick up his ass, but Baal seems much more accommodating. “I’ve met a few strange people so far, gods and not quite gods. What are you?”

“My brother and I are servants of The One Who Waits.” Baal explains, not bothered by the questions at all. “We assist the lord with the duties he cannot do himself after the betrayal, though sadly, we are confined to the afterlife as well. You are the only one who can enact his will outside this domain.”

“But where did you come from?” Ratau asks. “Were you always down here? Are you vessels like I am? Are you his sons?”

Baal pauses for a moment before picking up his pace again. “My duty is to take you before the lord. If he wishes me to speak to you and answer your questions, I shall, but until then, I ask that you remain silent and follow.”

Ratau shuts up. He feels like he must have overstepped somewhere in his questioning. Unfortunately for him, that just makes him want to ask more questions. Out of fear of upsetting the cat any further, Ratau keeps them to himself. With how quiet the brothers get in the presence of The One Who Waits, he gets the impression that they aren’t really supposed to be talking at all.

The fog clears and Ratau finds himself before the Lord of Death once again. Aym knelt down beside the lord, his head bowed in reverence, though he peeks up from beneath his veil as Ratau draws close. With his duty complete, Baal moves to the lord’s other side, kneeling down and bowing his head, leaving Ratau to address the god himself. Ratau kneels before him, having quickly picked up the etiquette the cat brothers expected of him.

“How do you feel?” The One Who Waits asks. “What emotions broil within your heart after your second meeting with the traitor Leshy?”

“I feel… powerless. Frustrated. Angry.” Ratau lists off. “I’m supposed to kill these bishops, I wanted to kill this one specifically for what it did to my home, but I could do nothing to stop him.” Ratau looks up to his lord for guidance. “Who is he? How am I supposed to beat him?”

The One Who Waits sucks in a shuddery breath which rattles in his chest. He closes his eyes and bows his head and Ratau can feel a great pain radiate from him. “I too felt what you feel.” He says. “Leshy was the youngest of us. One who needed constant care and attention. I was there to witness his crowning and I, along with the rest of our siblings, raised him up to godhood. In my darkest hour, when my siblings betrayed me and cast me out, bound my flesh in chains and cursed my soul, I called to Leshy. My little brother, one that I spent countless years raising and teaching. I called to him in the hopes that he’d see the injustice before him, that he’d save me.”

The god’s eyes open, and Ratau shudders under the pure rage he sees burning behind them.

”He laughed.”

“He laughed at me, drowning out my cries as he joined the rest of my siblings. He kicked me, clawed me, bit me, finding joy as he watched me curl up and cry. After everything I had done for him, all the years since we were crowned, it meant nothing to him. To see the joy in his eyes as they cast me down here, I could not stand it. I could not stand seeing how happy he was to see me go. For his betrayal, for his cruelty, I took his eyes, ensuring the last thing he ever saw was my rage and pain and the betrayal he was not only complicit in, but a perpetrator of. He will never again see the magnificence of his temple. He will never witness the beauty of the flowers and offerings his blessings helped grow. All he will ever see is the darkness he cast me into without a second thought for his own sick pleasure.”

Ratau shivers under the god’s rage, his whole body screaming out in second hand pain at the mere thought of what his lord went through. The One Who Waits trembles too, his arms shaking, the chains holding them in place digging into his flesh and spilling fresh blood onto the sand beneath him. Not even gods, not even family are safe from the cruelty of the Old Faith.

“How do I stop him?” Ratau asks, desperate to not only avenge his fallen friends and family, but to avenge his lord too. “How do I slay Leshy?” The god’s face splits into a smile at his eagerness to serve.

“You are still far too weak to challenge the traitors.” The One Who Waits tells him. “They stripped me of almost all of my power. What you possess now was gathered over centuries from a few whispered prayers from those who remembered me and those who are desperate for a deity outside the Old Faith to worship. The small flock you have gathered will feed you and the Red Crown, but it will take time. You must gather more, you must make each and every one a devout follower. They must pray, they must worship, they must sacrifice. Harvest their devotion and faith until you rival the power of the gods. Only then, will you be able to rip the heart out of my traitorous brother’s chest!”

“I…” Ratau feels his heart beating again, fueled by righteous fervor, but doubt still lingers in his mind. “How do I do that?” Ratau asks. “I don’t really know what I’m doing at all. I found Leshy by complete accident. I was just trying to gather enough food to keep everyone from starving. I barely even understand how the Red Crown works.”

The One Who Waits is not angry with his ineptitude. Raising his hand and tugging on his chains, the crown rises from Ratau’s head and hovers before him. “Put out your hands.” The lord orders and Ratau obeys. With a flick of the lord’s finger, the crown shakes once and the same leather bound book that Ratau discovered earlier falls into his waiting hands. “This grimoire holds the knowledge I gathered during my rise to godhood. Within are my teachings, instructions for how to call upon powers both divine and unholy, and rituals to allow me to assist you from my eternal prison. This crusade will last years, you will have plenty of time to read and learn as you grow your flock.”

Ratau unclasps the lock and opens the book again, staring down at the writings and drawings. This book was bound and written by his lord untold millennia ago. It was pretty large, but nowhere near the size of the god now. Was he once normal sized? Was he once mortal?

“Thank you my lord, but… I don’t know how to read.” Ratau admits with some shame. “Only the wisest of my village knew and I was far too busy to learn.”

Once again, the lord shows Ratau extreme patience for his lack of ability. “Find someone who can teach you.” He orders. “If you are unable…” The lord glances down at the two cats sitting beside him. “These two will teach you.”

The two brothers remained silent throughout the whole meeting, but both raise their heads in surprise when they are addressed directly.

“This one will teach you to read and write.” The One Who Waits says, lightly gesturing towards Baal with his hand. “The next time you should perish, he will show you how to pull the arcane secrets from my grimoire and apply them to help on your crusade.”

“It will be an honor to assist the holy vessel of the Red Crown.” Baal says, bowing his head once more. “I pray my teachings will serve you well.”

“And this one.” The chains rattle again and Ratau’s attention is directed towards the more hostile brother. “Your technique is lacking. Even with the relatively weak state of the crown, you should not struggle against mortal men. You must learn to fight, and there is no greater teacher at my command.”

“I will break him and mold him into a warrior worthy of the crown, my lord.” Aym promises with a sadistic glint in his eye. “I will forge a reaper out of him.”

Finally, the chains rattle once more as The One Who Waits points towards Ratau. “Rise to your feet, my vessel.” Ratau does as he’s told, stuffing the book back into the crown and returning it to his head before looking up at his lord. “Your enthusiasm and drive is commendable, but you are not able to slay the bishops as you are now. Your community is a smattering of scared peasants sleeping in tents. You will need a gathering of hundreds praying in my name. You are ignorant of the true workings of the world and must be taught how to unlock its secrets. You are weak and fragile and must be taught how to defend yourself and destroy your enemies. The rise to godhood is a long and perilous journey, but under my tutelage, you will slay the monsters who did us wrong.”

“Thank you.” Ratau bows his head, both grateful and terrified of what will happen to him in the coming days. There were a lot of expectations piling on, but as his namesake would imply, his lord is patient. He will wait as long as he needs to build Ratau up into the god slaying warrior he desires.

“Now…” The One Who Waits straightens himself out, tugging on his chains as he raises his hands. “Tend to your flock. Do not rest until they are as loyal as you are. Only when they show true devotion will you find the strength to fight the gods.”

The One Who Waits suddenly throws his hands downward until his chains are pulled taut. The moment his hands stop moving, Ratau starts falling. In a red flash of light, the ground beneath his feet vanishes and Ratau screams out in surprise as he finds himself tumbling through the dark, his arms and legs flailing around to try and find purchase.

Just as quickly as he was plunged into darkness, he’s suddenly blinded by sunlight. He covers his eyes to try and save them, only for his momentum through the air to shift. With a painful thump, his back hits cold stone and the air is knocked out of him. He wheezes on the ground, trying to make sense of what happened and where he was. His previous resurrections weren’t this chaotic or painful, but then again he wasn’t reduced to mulch the other times he died. Death couldn’t take him, but he’s going to have to be careful if he’s going to have such a rude awakening if he dies too violently.

“Ratau?!” The sound of his name gets his attention. Who was all the way out here? He should still be in the Darkwood, right? Raising his head, he’s shocked to find Gnatri staring at him from a distance. “Ratau, is that you?! What are you doing?”

“Gnatri?” He isn’t in the Darkwood anymore, is he? Weakly pushing himself up, he looks around and finds he’s by the archway bordering the clearing his flock was living in and the gateways crown statue sat. Looking down, he’s lying right on top of the smooth stone he tried to avoid, its markings fading from a dark red back to black now that it was no longer in use. He was transported back home with this stone!

“Ratau!” Hurrying up the stairs past Gnatri, Ches comes running over to help pick Ratau off the ground. “Ratau, are you alright? You’re not hurt are you? Did something happen?”

“I’m ok…” Ratau says a bit breathlessly, struggling to get back up onto his feet with her help. He checks himself over once he’s standing again, relieved to find that there are no visible wounds and all of his bones seem to be in their proper place. “I got pushed around a little, but I’m alright. I just need some time to walk around and catch my breath. Sorry for scaring you, Gnatri.”

“Oh, I’m…” Gnatri climbs up the rest of the stairs to help him. “Sorry, I just… I heard a shout and looked up here and found you sprawled out on the ground. I thought something hurt you.”

“I fell.” Ratau says, though that’s not the full story. Maybe the book he has can explain what that stone is and what it did, but he’s going to have to find someone who can read or stick around in the afterlife the next time he dies to learn. “I got hurt way worse looking for stuff, I just got the wind knocked out of me, I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need to see Oy?” Ches asks him with worry, giving him another look over.

“The crown fixed me up just fine. You saw how quickly it works.” Ratau assures her. “Did you and Lyrcai have any luck while I was away?”

“Not really.” She says with a dejected tone. Gnatri whines beside her. “Lyrcai and I made sure the clearing was always in view so we couldn’t venture too deep. We found a few berries and some mushrooms, but that will maybe get us through the night. I don’t see you carrying anything, so…”

“Oh, don’t worry!” Ratau breaks into a wide smile. “Gather everyone up, I have some things to show everyone!”

“Good things?” Gnatri asks hesitantly.

“Very good things!” Ratau assures her. “Come on, gather up.”

Leading the way back to the fire in the clearing, everyone is relieved to see him well. He was out for a little longer than he expected, but he kept his promise and returned before sundown. As everyone gathers around the fire again, he can tell that the food situation has all of them worried. Some work has been done around the place, but Ratau can hear the growl of empty stomachs.

“Everyone, I have very good news, and some pretty bad news. Which do you want out of the way first?”

“How bad are we talking?” Lyrcai asks. “Is it something we need to worry about?”

“It’s not an immediate problem, but it’s still bad.” Ratau tries to explain.

“Father always held on to sweets to give to people after painful operations.” Oy speaks up, looking up at Ratau. “Break the bad news now if you think the good news will wash it down.”

“Well in that case.” Ratau braces himself to give the bad news first. “It is very dangerous to be in the Darkwood now. I was ambushed and was unfortunate enough to see the same bishop who attacked our home and traumatized our elder. Had it not been for the gift The One Who Waits left me, I wouldn’t be here with you now.”

“Oh no…” Gnatri shudders at the news.

“Did they follow you?” Cass asks, staring back up at the shrine at the top of the clearing.

“I managed to slip away.” Ratau assures. “I believe we’re safe here, but we aren’t exactly self-sufficient. I’m going to have to go back out there eventually.” Ches and Lyrcai really don’t like the sound of that. They already look guilty hearing that they let him run off on his own to get ambushed, but if they were out there with him…

“The good news?” Oy asks, wagging his tail as he waits for the sugar to wash the bad taste out of everyone’s mouth.

Taking his crown into his hands, Ratau backs away from the fire and finds a nice soft spot in the grass. Holding the crown out, he starts to shake. It takes a couple of shakes to get it going, but the crown eventually starts coughing up its bounty. Apples, berries, mushrooms, wild carrots and wheat, acorns and other nuts. He hears shocked gasps after the first couple of fruits, but those gasps turn into shouts and cheers as he continues to shake. There’s a sizable pile in front of him by the time he stops, but there’s still even more waiting in the crown. He gives it a rest though, he can see the crown’s eye struggling to look straight after being jostled so much.

“The good news is I don’t have to leave anytime soon to get more food!” Ratau announces, stepping back as people start to gather around. “I would have grabbed more, but it was getting late and I was forced to run away from the crazies. This should be more than enough for a week though, right?”

“Ratau, this is amazing!”
“Our prayers… did they work?!”
“This haul is larger than even our off season harvests!”
“He really is blessed!”

With the evening about to set in and with the massive bounty before them, everyone steps forward to dig into the pile, stuffing their faces and experiencing the first bit of true joy they must have felt in days after all the horrors they endured. As they eat, Ratau feels a surge of strength fill his body.

”Thank you lord for returning Ratau home safe with this bounty.”
”You’ve gone above and beyond what I expected. Thank you.”
”So many fruits! He actually listened! Bless you, Mr. Waits!”
”Praise be to The One Who Waits!”

Ratau can’t help but feel giddy with the power coursing through him. He almost wants to run back out for round two, but this is still nothing. The chained god even said so, his flock are a few scared people in tents. He isn’t going to find true strength until he’s built a temple, until there is a new shrine to kneel before. He’s got a lot of work to do, and now that his people are fed, he can work freely. Even Ches and Lyrcai are staring at him in awe. He gets the feeling that they aren’t going to treat him like a helpless child anymore after this.

“Ratau?” A tug on his fleece draws him back to attention and he finds Oy, standing beside him. “Do you want to try and break the good news to the elder?” He asks. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him like you asked, but he’s still only picking at his food. Maybe something fresher will get his attention?”

“Good thinking, Oy.” Ratau beams. “I’ll go pick something out for him. You try and enjoy yourself in the meantime. Consider this a feast.”

Oy rushes forward to join everyone else at the food pile. Until they get around to making some place to store all of that, he’s probably going to have to toss the leftovers back into the crown. With everyone else satisfied, Ratau marches towards the lonely tent and its single occupant. Taking his crown off, he reaches inside for one of the remaining bits of food still inside. Karacyth was a fan of meatier foods, but he unfortunately could not secure any and he wasn’t going to feed the elder unidentified mushrooms. Pulling a fresh apple out of the crown and taking a deep breath, Ratau braces himself emotionally for another meeting with the elder.

“Karacyth?” Ratau calls out just above a whisper, gently lifting the fabric of the tent. In the late afternoon light, he sees the elder tense in his presence, but he does not flinch or hide away. That’s a good sign that he’s recovering, but Ratau still remains quiet and cautious as he lets himself inside and sits himself down. “Are you doing alright?”

Karacyth does not respond, though he does react to Ratau’s voice. He opens his eyes, though they focus on nothing in particular. He stares off into nothing, his eyes wandering the tent and glazing over Ratau. He takes notice of the small handful of berries sat beside him and reaches for them, only to seemingly lose interest and rest his hand on his knee.

Ratau isn’t used to seeing him so quiet and lost.

“Karacyth?” Ratau tries to get his attention again and the elder flinches. His eyes lock onto the young rat, wide with fear, but even now there’s no recognition in his eyes. The elder trembles slightly slowly curling up on himself. “Please, I’m trying to help. I brought you food and-”

“Please…” Karacyth backs away into the tent, hiding his head beneath his hands. “Spare the children, please… We have done no wrong…”

“Karacyth, I’m not here to hurt you!” Ratau whines, feeling his throat close up with grief seeing the old man this afraid. “Please, everyone is worried. Eat something at least!”

The elder cowers in the corner, mumbling out his pleas to monsters only he can see. Ratau sets the apple down beside the berries he’s barely picked at in the hopes that maybe he’ll eventually come around and eat, but hearing him whimper as he rises to leave the tent forces Ratau to sit back down. He can’t leave him like this. He doesn’t want to scare him any more than he already has, but he can’t leave him to suffer alone.

Taking off his crown, he digs around, praying that he might find something to snap the elder out of his paralyzing fear. Maybe there’s a different food that he’d like. Maybe he risks the mushrooms and any potential side effects might help clear his mind. Maybe he’ll be just as fascinated by the cool beetle he found and it will be just enough of a distraction to get through to him.

His hands brush against the small statuette he gifted the lamb. Karacyth does not need to be reminded of what happened to them.

Ratau is about to give up and leave the old man to his delusions, when his fingers brush against a small sack. Grabbing hold of it and pulling it out of the crown, his eyes go wide when he sees its the elder’s dice bag! It was one of the only things worth salvaging from the elder’s home. Maybe this can help.

“Karacyth? Do you want to play?” He quickly undoes the draw string and pours the dice out onto the ground. Karacyth flinches at the sudden noise, but the light clacking of the dice hitting each other draws his head out of hiding as he peeks out from beneath his arms. “I don’t know when I’ll have free time again. Please, let’s play. I’ll go first.”

Separating the dice into two piles, Ratau takes one and rolls it onto the dirt. It doesn’t roll around much without a solid wooden surface for it to bounce off of, but Ratau rolls a two and places the die down in front of him before leaning back and waiting for the elder to make a move.

The elder stares at the dice for what seems like a full minute. Ratau considers that enough of a win since he isn’t freaking out any more, but his heart soars as the elder slowly leans forward. Carefully taking a die into his hands, he lets it fall back onto the dirt, rolling a two of his own. He stares at it for a couple seconds as if he had forgotten what he just did, when he sets the die down right above Ratau’s, reaching up to swipe his die off their makeshift play space.

Ratau can’t help but grumble at having his first turn be negated and the sound draws a reaction out of Karacyth. A short exhale through his nose, barely a chuckle, but a pleasant sound nonetheless.

Taking a die again, Ratau rolls another turn.

The elder’s actions are slow. Any noise other than a pleased hum or a disappointed groan still causes him to flinch, but the elder is playing. He isn’t just rolling the dice around either, he’s playing to win. He clears Ratau’s side constantly, forcing him to play catchup for points as Karacyth’s side fills up.

Ratau loses his first game by fifty whole points.

“You weren’t kidding…” Ratau mumbles quietly to himself. “You were going easy on me…”

That earns a chuckle out of the elder. Not a quick exhale through the nose, not a pleasant hum, but an actual chuckle. Ratau used to hear him laugh every single day, he didn’t realize how much he missed it until he heard it again. The elder reaches down to clear the play space so he can roll again, but Ratau reaches out and takes his hand.

“Karacyth?” Ratau tries one last time to reach out to him, begging the kind old man he grew up with to come back. “Karacyth, please. Can you hear me?”

The elder froze at his touch, but he doesn’t flinch at Ratau’s voice. After what felt like several minutes of complete stillness, Karacyth’s hand slowly wraps around Ratau’s, holding him tight. Karacyth blinks away tears, but when he raises his eyes again, they do not pass over Ratau. He sees him. He recognizes him.

Before Ratau can say anything, Karacyth pulls him forward and wraps his arms around him, pulling Ratau into a hug as he breaks into tears.

“Ratau… Dear boy…” Karacyth sucks in shuddery breaths between each word, his chest hitching as sobs threaten to break him. “I thought… I…”

“It’s alright Karacyth.” Ratau does his best to comfort the old man, struggling to hold back tears himself. “I’m here. Everything’s gonna be ok now.” Ratau lets the old man cry, holding him tight as a constant assurance that he’s here with him. It was sort of funny how Ratau quickly fell back into the same rolls he had back home. His first full night here he got to work chopping firewood, and here he was now taking care of the village elder and playing games with him to keep him company. If he puts enough work into this place, maybe he can make it feel just like home did.

The only thing they’d be missing are the people.

“Ratau…” The elder lets him go and Ratau leans back to look up at him. Karacyth still looks exhausted and terrified, but it’s such a relief to see him lucid again. “Is everyone… is the lamb…”

“No.” Ratau shakes his head. He doesn’t want to upset the old man, but there’s no point in lying. He saw the carnage that unfolded, he can see that this small tent is not his home. “Only fourteen of us remain, us two included. We’re safe now though. I’ve done everything I can to-”

“That crown…” Karacyth mumbles, his eyes locked on the divine accessory resting on Ratau’s head. “That… That is not one of the bishop’s crowns. That is…”

“You told me yourself.” Ratau tries his best to explain himself. “Once upon a time, there were five bishops. The fifth would have had a crown of his own, right?” Karacyth stares in mixed awe and terror at the crown, but Ratau reaches forward and takes the elder’s hand. “He saved us. He wants to protect us from the Old Faith and bring in a new one. We have someone worth praying to.”

His words don’t seem to comfort the elder much, but he bows his head with relief regardless. “If he has kept you safe… Then he has earned my thanks for that at least. Just be careful, Ratau.” The elder gives Ratau a serious look. “I have been around far longer than I should. I have been told stories and bore witness to the whims of gods. Mortals like us are nothing to them. The lord who’s crown you bear does not care of us, only what we offer him.”

“B-but he saved us.” Ratau tries to argue. “He saved me specifically. He gave me his crown and-”

“He does not care.” Karacyth insists. “I am sure he will help us and ensure our safety, but it is only because we are offering something in return. If this really is the fifth bishop as you claim, he is cut from the same cloth as the others.” Ratau shrinks a bit under the elder’s words. He was completely lost and out of it only a few minutes ago, but the weight of his words tell Ratau that this isn’t the ramblings of a scared old man. The elder’s words had the weight of over a hundred years of gathered wisdom. “As long as you bear the crown, however, I shall pray.” Karacyth says. “I shall pray for your continued protection.”

“I don’t really need protection, but thank you.” Ratau nods his head, grateful to have not only helped the elder, but converted him. Even so, his words weigh heavily on him.

“I trust in your judgment, Ratau.” Karacyth tells him. “But please, do not let him make you do something you do not want to. Remember what I made you promise.”

“Never let the kindness in my heart die.” Ratau repeats. “I remember.”

Karacyth gives him a warm smile, content with the knowledge that even under the influence of a god, the same kind young man he knew was still in there and was here to stay. The elder looks around the tent he’s in, now fully lucid and able to make sense of where he is. He looks exhausted and likely needs more rest, but instead of curling up to sleep or reaching for the small pile of fruits beside him, he reaches for the dice on the ground.

“Care to play one more game?” He asks. “It sounds like you are going to be very busy.”

“Of course.” Ratau says with a smile, eagerly leaning back to take up a die himself. “We can play all night until the sun goes down if you want. I missed playing with you.”

It’s only been a few days, but with how much was taken from him, it felt like months since he got to sit here and play a game with the elder and have fun. He was going to make this place feel like home. He was going to build a new house for the elder to live in, he was going to make a new kitchen to cook the food he gathered during his scavenging run. It’s going to be like they lost nothing at all.

If only he could get his brother back to see it all when he’s done.

Chapter Text

Ratau had it easy back home.

He used to think chopping wood and running it around was grueling work and that he had no time to himself, but he didn’t realize how good he had it until he was responsible for literally everything.

His friends weren’t helpless, all of them had their own strengths and special skill sets, but there were only so many hands to work and out of all of them, he was the most capable. He did not get tired, he did not need to stop to eat, and his crown became whatever tool he needed.

He had no free time at all, someone always needed his help. After sharing his idea about building a temple to both worship and shelter in, Lyrcai and a couple other strong villagers got to work plotting things out, but more wood would need to not only be chopped, but sawn down to usable planks for flooring and the walls. Everyone would also need tools, some way to adhere everything so it doesn’t fall apart, wax for candles so they aren’t sitting in the dark.

Ches started digging up soil with the shovel she found amongst the zealot’s belongings, but she frequently requested Ratau’s help to use his crown to properly toil the earth so they could plant the seeds left over from the fruits and veggies he brought home. Water was the next big issue they were going to have to deal with. She and Lyrcai discovered a nearby river flowing through the woods within view of the clearing, but there weren’t many people who were willing to venture even that far to fetch water. They’d need to dig a well and make watertight containers to hold water for the crops and to cook with.

Gnatri also brought attention to a problem Ratau hadn’t even thought about as it brought along more terrifying revelations about his body, but everyone was… making messes. The old village had outhouses for everyone to do their thing, but they had no such comfort here and they couldn’t even dig a hole and bury their waste since the one shovel they had was being used to dig up farmland or flatten out space for the temple. Everyone’s just resorted to creating a designated poop corner in the clearing but it’s already become a serious problem.

Everyone looked to Ratau to solve every little problem. It felt good to be this important and respected among his flock, but it was a little too much. He didn’t get tired at all, but he wasn’t immune from stress. Taking time to have a nap or squat in the woods to do his business would be a brief respite, but he had no need or even urge to do either. He was up and working every hour of the day and night.

The only real break he had from work was the time he spent with Karacyth.

While he’s lucid now, his condition still isn’t great. He still has episodes where he retreats back into his mind, closing himself out from everything around him. Oy is able to get the elder through the worst of it, but Ratau’s the only one who seems to be able to pull him back to reality fully. Oy learned a lot from his father and has done an excellent job treating the physical injuries everyone endured, but it’s clear that Karacyth is suffering some sort of ailment of the mind, something Oy has no idea how to fix.

Nightly Knucklebones games have become the norm again, and while it’s still mostly for fun and to give Ratau a much needed break from his duties, Ratau can’t ignore the moments of quiet when the elder flinches at a sudden sound outside his tent or the strange lapses in his judgment while playing. These games were a useful distraction and it probably helped train his ailing mind, but the elder was going to need more help. He needed a home to feel secure in, not this small tent. He needed easy access to water so he could wash away the blood that’s still crusted over his feathers.

Ratau was hoping that the elder could teach him to read from the grimoire his lord left him, but he always became upset whenever Ratau mentioned The One Who Waits or the bishops. Reading through the lord’s personal writings probably wouldn’t help him much. Someone else in the flock might know, but with how busy everyone is trying to build the place up, he isn’t sure when he’d find the time to pull them aside to learn.

The days go by pretty slowly with everyone running around trying to do their part, but after a while, things look somewhat passable. A few cleared out plots now carry seeds which will hopefully grow into berry bushes over the next few months and every discarded apple core is buried throughout the clearing in the hopes that they’ll one day grow into apple trees. The basic foundations of the temple are laid out with logs half buried in the dirt to mark out the walls and the doorway. It will still take a week or two in order to make it, but seeing how quickly the foundation was put up inspired everyone to work a bit harder to see it complete.

Throughout his work, Ratau would occasionally receive small boosts of power as he overhears prayers, listening in as people thank The One Who Waits for blessing everyone with this second chance. It felt good to get these little boosts here and there, but his lord made it clear that a few mumbled prayers weren’t going to cut it. He needed a temple, idols in his image, he needed to be on people’s minds at all times.

Whenever he found a free moment, Ratau tried to work on a shrine.

Venturing out into the nearby woods and finding the biggest tree he can, he spends an hour chopping away at its thick trunk before he manages to take it down. Getting it back home is another problem entirely, even with his enhanced strength. He has to call for the help of Lyrcai and a few of the other members of the flock to help him roll the tree back to the clearing.

Chopping off all the branches and digging up a divot not far from the fireplace, Ratau sets the log upright in the dirt and starts carving away. His whittling skills aren’t as applicable here since he’s using an entire tree instead of a small block of wood, but the Red Crown’s blade cuts through the thick trunk just as easily. He has to take breaks frequently to attend his other duties, but when night falls and everyone else falls asleep for the night, he’s able to work uninterrupted, only needing to stop to feed the fire so he has enough light to see.

The next morning, Gnatri is the first to see his handiwork as she rises early to make it to the poor excuse of a bathroom they had. “What is…” She stutters, staring up at it as Ratau shaves away some of the more jagged edges at the shrine's base. “Is that… him?”

“Close enough.” Ratau says, staring up at it. Standing before him is a tall pillar of wood carved and sculpted in the form of his lord. It looks lumpy and strange as Ratau struggled to get the chains to look right without going through the tedious task of carving out each link, but he’s got the important stuff down. Tall and imposing, bound and battered, but staring down with pain and understanding.

“Does he actually have three eyes?” Gnatri asks, getting her first good look at what the god she worships actually looks like.

“He does, and he has skeleton arms and his cloak is stained red with blood.” Ratau nods, listing off as many details as he can which he failed to properly capture. “He’s super creepy looking, but he only looks like that because he’s suffered under the Old Faith too. They beat him down and took everything from him, that’s why he’s so supportive of us, he’s suffered just as much as we have.”

“Oh…” Gnatri stares up at the statue again, her expression shifting slightly. She still looks intimidated, but peeking into her mind, it’s clear that his words have changed her perception of him.

”I can’t imagine what it must be like to suffer through so much and not only keep fighting, but to provide for others. Thank you for saving us from the same fate, Mr. Waits.”

The shrine will do. Maybe Ratau will find some time to improve it later on, but there are more practical things he needs to focus on first. As Ratau goes about his day and everyone starts to wake up and take notice of the shrine, he finds himself with a lot more energy than he expects. It looks like garbage and barely resembles the god, but having something to help people visualize who they’re praying to as well as a reminder that there’s someone even worth praying to gets people doing it more often.

He’ll have to put more effort into the whole cult side of things once he’s sure everyone isn’t starving and sitting around in their own poop.

Work continues, another day passes. Tall grass is cut to make bindings for tools and is weaved together for the thatched roof which will go on the temple once the walls are built up. Karacyth remains lucid for most of the day and gets visits from the remaining villagers to keep him company and help him identify who’s left, leaving Ratau to continue chopping wood, mining away at stone, and watering the crops as night falls.

It’s been days since he stopped to rest.

Lyrcai and Ches stopped fussing at him to eat and lie down after the first couple days when he showed no sign of fatigue, but while he didn’t feel any soreness in his muscles or pain in his feet, he desperately wanted to stop and rest for a moment.

Everyone was returning to their small tents to call it a night, settling in to wait out the cold dark so they could continue working in the morning. Ratau could chop down more trees or chisel away more stone. He could improve the shrine, saw more wood for the temple, forage around in the immediate area. He’d have to leave through that strange door up by the archway eventually, but he didn’t want to do anything right now.

Lying himself down on the grass, he stares up at the stars, allowing himself to sit still for the first time in days.

Will he ever go back to normal? The Red Crown and all the power it offers him is great, but it scares him just how different he is from all of his friends now and for a while, they were all scared of him too. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t even use the bathroom anymore. He doesn’t know the full potential within him and with each passing day, he’s only getting stronger.

How long until people start to forget about the kind young man who delivered firewood to them? How long until everyone sees him as this all powerful, nigh immortal demigod?

He guesses at the very least everyone will stop calling him a kid.

He closes his eyes, finding the soft grass beneath him comforting. He takes in a deep breath, allowing his body to go slack. He wants to sleep, but he doesn’t feel tired at all. Despite his lack of fatigue, he keeps his eyes closed and tries to will himself to sleep. If he keeps up at it, eventually he’ll go under, right?

He spreads himself out on the grass, slowing his breaths, clearing his mind, becoming completely still. He feels his body slow down, instinct taking over as it prepares itself for rest. Ratau feels sleep take him…

When the sound of an unsheathed blade snaps him back to attention.

He opens his eyes and is momentarily disoriented when he doesn’t find the stars in the night sky and instead finds the thick white fog of the afterlife. He doesn’t bother questioning it and instead turns his focus on the blade falling towards his face.

He rolls to the side, hearing the blade sink into the sand where his head was a moment ago. The crown on his head quickly flies to his hand to arm him with his dagger but Ratau is forced onto the backfoot as his attacker presses the assault, bringing their blade up from the ground to slash at him. Ratau deflects the blow, pushing the sword aside to find out who could be attacking him…

Only to be left completely stunned when he finds it’s Aym pressing the assault.

Why?! A million questions fill his head at once. How did he even get here? He was just drifting off to sleep before suddenly appearing here. Without warning, Aym, one of The One Who Waits’ servants, is attacking him. He isn’t even using the crescent staff that he usually carried around, he was using what looked like a typical longsword. Was he dreaming, was this a nightmare, did he do something wro-

In his confusion and shock, he’s unable to properly defend himself. Aym does not relent at all, constantly pushing forward as Ratau clumsily tries to deflect his blows. His arm comes up too slow to black a horizontal swing going right for his head, and in a blinding flash of pain, he feels cold steel slash against his throat.

He tries to gasp for breath, but blood quickly fills his airways. He drops his dagger and throws his hands to his neck, trying his best to stop the bleeding but he’s shocked by how deep the wound is. He falls to his knees, crumpling onto the ground as he desperately tries to stop the flow of blood. He feels his body grow cold as the cat approaches him. He no longer has the strength to arm or protect himself. He stares up at Aym, trying to make sense of why he would do this before death takes him.

“You lasted longer than I thought. Your reflexes are quite sharp.” Aym says, his scowl temporarily lifting into a smirk. “There might be an actual fighter within you, but with how sloppy your defenses are, I fear this will take some time. Get up.”

Aym steps back and sinks his sword into the sand, waiting for Ratau to rise to his feet. He’s still choking on his blood and unable to breathe, but with Aym’s sudden shift in attitude, he’s knocked out of his shock and remembers that he can’t actually die. The pain in his neck is already fading, his body healing thanks to his presence here in the afterlife.

“Why…” He manages to choke out, sputtering up blood and falling into a coughing fit immediately afterwards.

“The One Who Waits ordered me to train you into a warrior worthy of his crown.” Aym reminds him. “He sent my brother and I here, telling us you had taken a break from your duties.” Drawing the sword out of the sand, Aym points the bloodied blade at Ratau. “There is no time for rest! Your every waking moment should be in service to He Who Awaits Us All!”

“Ease up on him, brother.” Somewhere behind him, a hand comes into view by Ratau’s side. Letting go of his neck, he reaches out for it and is helped to his feet by Baal. “Even the gods need rest. His duty to The One Who Waits is paramount, but he is still a mortal. That’s why we were given our tasks, we must train him up into a true instrument of the gods.”

In his attempts to fall asleep, Ratau instead found himself here. He tried to momentarily escape his responsibilities, only to be saddled with even more. If he isn’t building up his community, he’s going to be forced to deal with these two.

“Holy vessel.” Baal looks down at Ratau. “Could you give me the lord’s grimoire?” Taking his bloodied hands off his neck which is already almost sealed, Ratau takes his crown off and holds it over Baal’s waiting hands. Giving the crown a couple shakes, he frees the heavy tome from its inventory. “It’s been some time since our lord let me read from his texts. You have already started your training with Aym, so I will leave you two to your sparring. When you are finished or are unable to fight, I will begin teaching you how to read the words of our lord.”

Turning to leave with the book in his hands, Baal abandons Ratau to his cruel brother who immediately readies his sword again. “Summon your blade, vessel!” He commands. “I will be tempering that feeble defense of yours.”

Ratau’s throat still irritates him too much to try and talk him down, so he’s left with no choice but to follow his orders and arm himself. He just wanted a break, but now he’s being forced to fight for his life. Aym flourishes his sword, a sadistic smile forming beneath his veil.

In the blink of an eye, Aym falls upon him, sword raised high to cut him in two.

Ratau is much quicker to react this time, quickly throwing himself backwards to avoid the overhead swing and bringing his dagger down to deflect the sword when it comes back up in an underhand slash. Aym is relentless, swinging around his sword like it weighs nothing and forcing Ratau to constantly back up and deflect blows. Sparks fly as steel meets silver and it isn’t long before the constant clanging of their blades starts to make Ratau’s ears ring.

Is he supposed to keep this up for as long as he can? He can feel himself actually getting tired as the impacts of Aym’s sword starts to run up his arms. He needs to do something to get Aym to back off.

Aym tries to go for his head again, and instead of using his dagger to deflect the blow, Ratau ducks down. The blade flies over Ratau’s head and while Aym tries to recover the whiffed swing, Ratau kicks off the ground and lunges at the cat, his dagger held in front of him to stab into his chest.

For his efforts, Aym brings his leg up and Ratau gets a knee to his chin, rattling his brain around in his skull and causing him to collapse into the sand. A second later, a blade is stabbed into his back, pinning him to the ground.

“That is more like it!” Aym leaves his sword embedded in Ratau’s back to kneel down in front of him. “You show promise, rat. That was a much more commendable effort than your first.”

“I…” Ratau cranes his neck up to look at the cat. “You caught me by surprise the first time.” He tries to argue, the pain in his back already leaving him despite still having a blade in it. “I would have done better if-”

“You hesitated.” Aym interrupts him. “Your reaction time was just fine. You were alert and went from the ground to your feet in a second. What led to your demise was your hesitancy. You questioned why I was attacking you instead of fighting back.”

“Because I thought you were my friend.” Ratau tries to reason, only to earn a dismissive scoff from the cat.

“If I draw a blade on you, I am a foe, not a friend.” Aym tells him. “That hesitancy will get you and your flock killed. Must I remind you why our lord is imprisoned here? The Old Faith is corrupt to its core and its ranks are filled with traitors. As your flock grows, dissenters will hide themselves amongst your ranks. You must always be ready for the possibility that those who fight by your side may one day plant a dagger in your back.”

Ratau finds Aym’s words to be utter nonsense. What happened to The One Who Waits was undeniably cruel, but Ratau feels that Aym might have learned the wrong lessons from their lord's story. No one in Ratau’s flock would ever betray him. Early on they feared him and were worried that the crown was affecting him, but those doubts were quickly squashed. All Aym likely knows is their lord’s tale of betrayal and mistrust, but it’s clear that The One Who Waits doesn’t want that to be his legacy.

He’s trusting Ratau to save him after all, right? He’s putting all his faith into the lord. If he were to follow Aym’s words, he’d have to assume that The One Who Waits would betray him in the end too.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts as Aym draws the sword out of his back, sending a blinding spike of pain running through his whole body that lasts for only a few moments before it heals. “I commend your efforts for attacking when an opening presented itself, but focus on your defenses. This will take far too long if I have to drag your bloody corpse back to your feet every time.”

Taking a few more seconds to catch his breath and recompose himself, Ratau pushes himself back to his feet, arming himself once again when Aym brandishes his sword. The cat’s having way too much fun with this. Ratau braces himself, getting ready to dodge and deflect another flurry of blows. As painful as this practice is, he’d rather fight here than back in the woods. His reflexes will get faster, his precision with his blade will become sharper. The next time he gets ambushed, he won’t have nearly as difficult of a time taking them down.

He also doesn’t want to stop now until he wipes that overconfident look off of Aym’s face.

“Ah, have you finished your sparring session with Aym?”

The afterlife was quick to mend his wounds and take away his pain, but Ratau’s body still feels sore and irritated as he stumbles towards Baal who is sitting down and leaning against one of the large chains embedded in the sand. The grimoire rests in his lap. Ratau had started to let the power of the crown get to his head a little bit, but all it took was a few fights against one of Death’s servants to humble him very fast. He’s just glad everything is attached again.

“Come, sit beside me.” Baal instructs, shifting over slightly to make room for Ratau. He gratefully takes up the offer, collapsing onto the sand beside the cat before weakly propping himself up against the chain. “I take it my brother showed no quarter?”

“I think he has issues.” Ratau nods, more than grateful to be stuck with the more mellow of the brothers.

“I’ve grown used to it.” Baal explains. “I believe he’s trying to prove his worth to our lord. I took to his teachings quicker than Aym did and had to be taught to read. Aym insisted on becoming the brawn to my brains, but with our lord completely immobile, he was unable to personally teach Aym himself like he did with me. He’s taken that aggression out on me plenty of times, but I’m afraid he’s found a new sparring partner to prove himself to.”

“He’s proven himself just fine.” Ratau pouts. “I don’t need any more reminders that he can kick my ass whenever he wants to.”

“Ah, but now he’s trying to prove to the lord that he can make you just as ruthless.” Baal tells him. “Tapping out and crying for mercy will only make him push you harder.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m used to that after growing up with my brother.” Ratau comments, only to be blindsided by the sudden weight of grief that settles in his chest. He got into fights all the time with his brother, mostly over stupid stuff. They’d shove each other around, they’d steal each other’s food or pull pranks on each other. Ratau himself certainly felt jealous at times and felt he needed to live up to his brother’s reputation. Aym was almost definitely the younger of the two brothers if Ratau’s own experiences were anything to go by.

The last real conversation Ratau had with his brother was an argument. The last he ever saw of Ratoo was seeing him heartbroken and betrayed to learn that his lover was the one responsible for leading the Old Faith to the village.

He wants to see Ratoo just one more time. Anything to replace the grief stricken expression that’s burned in his mind.

“If you take well to reading, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the relative peace and quiet I provide.” Baal draws Ratau back to the present, opening up the grimoire on his lap. “At least until Aym asks me to help him train you. While I’m not as eager to strike the holy vessel who will save our lord, I do like the sound of having someone new to spar with.”

“Please don’t stab me.” Ratau pleads. “Let’s just focus on the book instead.”

“Be warned, your mind will be tested just as rigorously as your body under my tutelage.” Baal says with a smirk, flipping through the pages for something easy to start him off with. “Let us begin.”

Ratau’s daily life did not require him to read. He was of course curious about the books the elder owned and what the little notes the village doctor scribbled meant, but it wasn’t necessary to sit down and learn. He was good at numbers though, especially with the constant gaming he did with Karacyth forcing him to quickly do arithmetic in his head. Letters were a bit harder than numbers, but he was quickly getting the basics down. He felt like a little kid while being taught though. This was all extremely simple for Baal who sometimes glossed over important information or assumed some things were simple enough to understand when Ratau clearly didn’t. It was frustrating and Ratau quickly looked for distractions.

“Do you ever see anyone else out here?” Ratau starts asking questions, still wanting to fill his mind with knowledge but growing too frustrated to try and get it from books. “I get the impression you don’t have many visitors here.”

“No.” Baal answers his question with a bit of frustration, resting his hands on the open grimoire to mark the page as he satisfies Ratau’s curiosity. “It’s just been my brother and the lord here. We assist him in his duties, tending to the souls of those recently deceased, but they aren’t much for conversation. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just obvious that you two aren’t used to other people.” Baal lets out a slow hum at that, unsure of what to think. “You’re certainly a lot more polite though.”

“It’s called bedside manners.” Baal proclaims. “Lost souls typically like to be told that they’re alright and that it’s ok to rest. My brother deals with the rowdier ones that don’t accept their deaths easily. Now, where wer-”

“Where did you two come from?” Ratau asks, interrupting as Baal tries to return his attention to the grimoire. “I know I asked earlier, but I still want to know. Were you chosen like me? Are you related to him in some way? Did you serve him before the betrayal and follow him down here?”

With a slow sigh, Baal closes the book, handing it off to Ratau to return it to storage. “You ask too many questions.” He says, not bothering to hide how annoyed he is. “I suppose answering your inane questions still counts as instructing you on how to better do your tasks as the lord’s vessel, but you will stop interrupting me from now on, am I understood?”

“Y-yes.” Ratau stutters out an answer, taken slightly aback by the change in tone. He shouldn’t have said anything, Baal had a similar reaction when he first asked. It sounds like he’s getting his chance to get it all done and over with so he won’t bother him with it again.

“I do not know where my brother and I came from.” Baal explains, staring off into the fog of the afterlife. “I have the faintest memories of a life before this, memories when I was very young. We used to live in the mortal world, but the earliest, clearest memories I have are of this place. The One Who Waits has not told me of my origin because I have not asked.”

“Why not?” Ratau questions.

“I do not need to.” Baal answers. “He needed us. Whether we were sent to him by some still surviving follower of his after the betrayal or if he saved our souls after death, we’re here to tend to him as well as the dead. He needed someone loyal to him, people he could trust and rely on after being betrayed by those he once called family. I would sooner slit my own throat and damn my own soul than to betray that trust.”

Baal turns to look at Ratau and he’s left momentarily stunned when he sees the look of fury on the cat’s face. He looks more ferocious than Aym like this.

“If The One Who Waits wishes for you to know something, he will tell you.” Baal hisses. “Do not fish for answers out of me or my brother. I will not part with secrets behind the lord’s back.”

“That’s… That’s not why I…” Ratau quickly shuts his mouth. The One Who Waits passed on his trust issues to Baal too. Ratau couldn’t blame them, they were all hurt by people they thought they could trust, but it’s clear that their isolation down here has made the issue worse. “I just wanted to get to know you guys a bit more.” Ratau tells him. “I’m a servant of The One Who Waits too. Don’t you want to know more about me? What life outside of this place is like?”

The anger in Baal’s eyes fades slightly as he lowers his head, his ears flattening against his skull. He looks disappointed at his previous outburst, but after a moment, he looks back up at Ratau. “What do you do for fun out there?” He asks. “What work did you toil with while you were still mortal?”

“I was a woodsman and a caretaker.” Ratau answers, happy to answer Baal’s question. “I worked with the village lumberjack to chop firewood and deliver it to people’s homes. I also cared for the village elder, Karacyth. I never learned to read, but the elder’s the one who taught me to count so I could play Knucklebones with him.”

“Knucklebones?” Baal tilts his head, looking down at his hand and cracking his fingers.

“It’s a dice game.” Ratau nods. “I guess you probably don’t have dice out here.”

“What are dice?” Baal asks and Ratau’s left momentarily speechless. Baal’s brow furrows at his expression. “You must understand that this is all I know. All I’ve learned comes from the lord’s mouth and from his grimoire. What mortal men do in the land of the living isn’t my concern, though I can’t help but be curious.”

“And you got mad at me for being the same.” Ratau pouts, Baal does not react to his prodding. “Maybe I can bring some stuff back here to show you.” Ratau offers, hoping to break through the stoic facade Baal was putting up. “I don’t think Karacyth would appreciate me stealing his dice bag, but I was meaning to make my own dice before Leshy attacked my village. I could show you how to play.”

“We are not here to play.” Baal tells him, but Ratau is already digging around in his crown, searching for things to show the cat that he might not be familiar with due to his time in the afterlife. “It is my duty to teach you how to better serve our lord. I will not shirk my duties to-” Baal is silenced when Ratau pulls a beetle from the crown.

“Oh wow, this little guy’s still crawling around in here!” Ratau marvels as the beetle crawls around on his hand, unbothered by its new surroundings or its long stay within the crown. “Look at it!” Ratau holds the bug out to Baal and he leans his entire body away from it, his hairs standing on end and his ears flattening against his head. He looks absolutely mortified by the thing. “Sorry.” Ratau quickly pulls it back. “I guess you don’t like bugs. Not everyone does.” Holding the crown up, he tries to lead the beetle back inside to keep it safe.

“Such creatures exist in the mortal world?” Baal tries to sit back up, but his fur is still bristled. “Such a hideous thing.”

“You’ve lived your whole… life surrounded by death. A little beetle is enough to upset you?” Ratau asks, trying his best to hide the smirk trying to form on his face.

“Do not show me that repulsive creature ever again.” Baal demands as Ratau reaches back into his crown. “If hideous beings such as that roam the mortal world, I’m glad to be spared the sight of them down here.”

“You sound like Gnatri.” Ratau snorts, earning a mean glare from the cat. Ratau pays him no mind as he roots around the crown some more. Maybe Baal would like an apple? He’s still got a couple fruits floating around in here. This place is nothing but sand and bones, maybe Baal would think that the rocks he found while exploring the woods are cool.

His hands brush up against something wooden and Ratau grabs hold of it, pulling it out to get a look at what he found. His breath lodges itself in his chest when he finds the small statuette of his brother. Grief fills his heart once more as he’s reminded of what he lost. Baal leans in close to get a better look at the carving.

“Is this an idol of some lowly god?” Baal asks. “A toy for children? An artifact to perform magic with?” Baal’s questions make Ratau want to ask his own. He wants to know if it’s possible to see his brother again, to know where he’s been laid to rest, but looking at the small statuette, a different question suddenly comes to mind.

“What happened to the lambs?” He asks, still haunted by their death, still furious over the cruelty and injustice they had to endure their whole life.

Baal falls silent, staring off into the fog of the afterlife. He does not look angry with him for asking a question he shouldn’t have. In fact, he looks just as lost and heartbroken. There’s a very awkward and tense stretch of silence between them before Baal suddenly pushes himself up and rises to his feet.

“The lord will want to speak with you before you depart.” He states. “Ask your questions to him. I fear I have already disappointed him enough with how little I have taught you today. To your feet.”

Quickly gathering everything back into the crown, Ratau does as he’s told, pushing up from the ground and following after Baal as he makes his way to The One Who Waits. Seeing how stoic Baal has become and knowing how quickly he could anger, Ratau wishes he had kept his mouth shut and just focused on his studies. He wanted to get to know these two strange brothers and become their friend, but it’s clear they do not care. They live only to serve The One Who Waits. They only acknowledge him because he bears the Red Crown.

Maybe if he keeps trying they’ll eventually warm up to him. It must be lonely down here, and with only stories of backstabbing and betrayal from their lord, they’re trying to keep it that way. Maybe he can help them learn to trust in others. They’re going through the effort to teach him how to better serve their lord, surely he can teach them to trust in him at the very least.

Following behind Baal, the fog parts and the imposing form of The One Who Waits comes into view. Ratau bends a knee and bows his head as Baal continues forward, taking his spot beside his lord.

“You wish to hear the tale of the lambs…” The One Who Waits speaks after a long stretch of silence.

“You saw what happened to my village, right?” Ratau looks up to his lord. “All of that chaos and needless death was caused by Leshy’s hunt for the lamb. Karacyth told me that some time after you had been banished that the lambs were no longer our neighbors but fell omens of death. The lamb that was brought to our village was just a child. What did they do to deserve such a fate?”

The One Who Waits lets out a slow, pained exhale. Ratau gets the impression that this is going to be a long and painful story.

“I was not born into greatness.” The One Who Waits eventually speaks. “Just as you are now, I had to grow with my crown. I walked amongst mortals, making faithful disciples out of all who would listen. My siblings and I all had our little sects, our crowns granting us unique gifts. Though, for the longest time, I believed I had drawn the shortest stick. My siblings built kingdoms to perfectly suit them, ruling over lands warped by their crown's power. This was the only kingdom I had. A cold, desolate waste where souls go to rest.”

Ratau knows that tone of voice all too well, he’s heard it from himself countless times growing up. It seems even gods can be jealous of their siblings.

“I did my duties as God of Death with no complaints.” The One Who Waits continues. “While my siblings could offer boons unique to their crowns to their followers, all I seemed to be able to do was grant those who worshiped me quick, painless deaths and eternal rests within my domain. I ruled over death, there was nothing else I could do, no room to grow…

Until I met a grieving couple.”

Ratau’s knees start to feel a bit sore. Shifting his legs out from beneath him, he sits himself down on the sand, trying his best to relax as his lord continues his story.

“Two sheep came to my temple, a mother and father, openly weeping as they held out a bundle of wool to me.” The One Who Waits details, his eyes closing as he looks back on the memory. “I tried to turn them away, telling them that I could not give their child a peaceful end as their life had already slipped away from them. That is not what they came to me to ask for, however. What they requested of me was something that had never been done before, something that disrupted the natural order of the world.”

“They wanted me to bring their lamb back. They had brought a lifeless corpse to my door and requested… demanded, that I put life back into it. A life gone too soon, unfairly cut short by circumstances outside of their control. It was not a mercy that I had granted them rest, they deserved a second chance at the life that was robbed from them.”

“Did you manage it?” Ratau asks, overcome with wonder. One of the lord’s three eyes opened, glaring down at him. Ratau remains silent, allowing The One Who Waits to finish the story at his pace.

“The couple did not settle for constant prayer and devotion. They knew the impossibility of the task they had given me, but they provided what they could. They gave up all their mortal possessions, they swore eternal servitude, they let their blood spill to draw the ritual circles that would be required. They offered sacrifices, willing to exchange the life of others to return their child. I worked tirelessly, calling upon every ounce of my strength, combing through the afterlife to find the soul of the lost lamb, eager to prove that I held true mastery over death.”

“My disciples drew their own blood and bowed their heads in reverence to me. The parents provided their sacrifices, the remains of ten others, the cause of their deaths unquestioned. Incense and smoke filled the halls of my temple as my followers chanted, praying for me to do the impossible. The corpses burned, the temple shook at its foundations, the skies above blackened as I held onto the lifeless child, willing the crown to return the soul that its flesh gave up. I had nearly blacked out, the strength required to perform the ritual too straining on my still growing form. I persisted, however, and as the skies cleared and the chanting stopped…

The once still body of the lamb, Methuselina, drew breath once more.”

Ratau hears a drumming in his ears as his heart goes crazy in his chest, but he doesn’t dare interrupt the lord’s story with the question he desperately wants to get out.

“I had done the impossible. I had reversed death. In an instant, I was rejuvenated by the devotion of all those who witnessed it. I had bent the laws once set in stone by the oldest gods to my whim. Methuselina would grow to become one of my most loyal disciples, a walking, living monument to my power. Word spread, my flock grew in number, and more miracles were performed with each one feeding me with more devotion.”

“It wasn’t long before jealousy and eventually fear settled into the hearts of my siblings.” The One Who Waits’ proud tone of voice suddenly takes a hostile turn at the mention of his siblings. “They were content to let me sit in this kingdom of ash, but the moment I had enough power to challenge them, they despised me. My disciples were undying while theirs withered with age over the years. Their miracles and rituals paled in comparison to the impossibilities I could conjure. We all sought after more power, to expand our rule, but not once did the thought of overthrowing my siblings cross my mind. They were family, but that didn’t stop them from turning on me.”

“They did not strike me first, however. Instead, they went for the lamb. A mortal who had lived for generations, the living spark that fueled their hatred. They feared Methuselina, and for no fault of their own, my siblings struck them down, destroying them so thoroughly that I could not bring them back. When I confronted them, they started spouting excuses about preserving the natural order of things, as if we didn’t slay the gods who created the natural order to claim power for ourselves. They were all bitter, envious, monstrous traitors, each and every one.”

The One Who Waits shakes again, his chains rattling and blood seeping from his wounds. That answered Ratau’s questions about the lamb and why they were hunted. The very first person to ever come back from the dead was a lamb, and the Old Faith was so fearful of what they were and what they represented that they started killing the lambs en masse. They’ve been hurting innocent people for centuries. Though, as the lord takes in a breath to speak again, it quickly becomes clear that there’s more to this genocide than collective punishment.

“In the time since my banishment, a prophecy has arisen.” He says with a shudder, trying to calm the rage boiling over just beneath the surface. “That a sacrificial lamb will spell the end for the gods. Prophecies are tricky things, however. They may believe that a lamb will rise to challenge them and are now slaughtering them to prevent it, but I see it differently. It was the murder that you witnessed that filled your heart with hatred. I believe the child you cared for was the lamb of prophecy, and with its death, you will now end them all.”

Ratau feels a mix of pride and terror flow through him. So many pieces were starting to click together in his head. The fortune teller saying fate had suddenly taken an interest in him, being told several times now that he couldn’t let his kindness die out, how quickly he got along with the lamb and their attachment to the small wooden figure he made for them. This is why he was chosen. Everyone else wanted to abandon the lamb and turn it away, but he refused to accept that. If slaying the gods is the only way to make sure no more innocents have to die like the lamb did, then he’ll gladly fulfill the role that prophecy has granted him.

“I won’t let you down.” Ratau promises, filled with a renewed sense of vigor and righteousness. “But my lord, I have something that I must ask of you. A favor, I guess.” The god tilts his head slightly, waiting to hear his request. “Do you think… you could bring someone back as you are now?” Ratau asks, feeling his throat start to close up. “Could you bring back my brother, Ratoo?”

Ratau stares up at the god who remains silent for several seconds after hearing his request. More than anything, Ratau wants to see his brother again, to tell him he’s alright. The cat brothers also raise their heads slightly to look up at their master, curious to see if he would or even could complete this request. Ratau’s heart pounds in his chest as he awaits his lord’s answer.

“I’m afraid I’m in no condition to perform miracles such as that. However…” Ratau’s heart was on the verge of breaking until that last word. “With the Red Crown in your possession, you could perform the ritual yourself.”

“I…” Ratau stares up at the god in shock. “I could?!”

“Not as you are now, but in time.” The god nods, a slight smile forming beneath his veil. “You lack the resources, strength, and knowledge to perform such a task. You must know the proper incantations, you must gather a worthy enough sacrifice to draw his soul and body from death, your flock must have enough faith in you to feed the crown to do anything at all. If your brother means that much to you, then go. Embark on another crusade. Kill, convert, harvest. Put in the work, and I will return your brother to you.”

“Yes, my lord!” Ratau quickly nods his head. “I’ll do whatever you wish! Anything to get him back!” The One Who Waits’ face is split with a wide, toothy smile, pleased to see his vessel so eager to serve.

“You have had your time to rest.” He says, raising one of his hands as far as his chains will allow and pressing his middle finger against his thumb. “Now… wake up.”

With a snap, Ratau suddenly jolts awake only to nearly be thrown to the ground. Instead of waking up on the grass where he tried to rest his eyes, he instead finds himself in Ches’ arms who stares down at him in complete shock.

“Hello?” Looking around, Ratau finds that the sun was just starting to rise. He’s close by the tents and standing beside Ches is Oy who stares up at Ratau in wide eyed terror. “What’s that look for? Did something happen?”

“Y-you…” Oy shakes his head. “You were dead!”

“I just took a little dirt nap.” Ratau tells him, trying to calm the boy down.

“You weren’t breathing and your heart wasn’t beating.” Ches says, backing up Oy’s claims. “I don’t have to be a doctor to know that isn’t normal.”

“Well I’m breathing and beating now.” Ratau assures her. “Can you put me down?” After a moment of concerned hesitation, Ches obliges and sets Ratau back down onto his feet. He stretches himself out, popping his joints after lying on the hard packed dirt all night. “I was just trying to get some rest like you guys wanted me too.”

“I think you’re taking my dad’s phrase a bit too literally.” Oy says. “It’s a relief to know that I was overreacting. Or… maybe he brought you back.”

“I just spoke with him.” Ratau nods, looking off in the distance towards the archway and the Darkwood. “I think I need to head out on my own again.”

“You do?” Ches asks with some worry. “We still have a few days of food left in storage. You don’t have to-”

“Food wasn’t my main concern, but I’ll be keeping an eye out for more while I’m away.” Ratau tells her, making walking off towards the stairs. “I need to bring Ratoo home.”

“Ra…” Ches’ voice catches in her throat. Ratau stops to look at her and finds a pained look on her face. “Ratau, I already told you.” She sighs. “He’s-”

“I know he’s dead.” Ratau tells her. “I’m going to bring him back.” Ches and Oy are left speechless and both wear different expressions. Ches looks confused and hurt, as if she still believes that he’s clinging desperately to the hope that he might find Ratoo alive or at the very least find his body to give a proper burial to. Oy however… Oy clasps his hands together and bows his head, praying that what he’s thinking is correct, that maybe he’d get a chance to talk to his father again. “Look after everyone while I’m gone. I shouldn’t take long. Oy, keep Karacyth company while I’m away. I don’t want him to be too upset if I don’t come back tonight for our Knucklebones game.”

“I’m still not good with numbers, but I’ll try.” Oy promises, hurrying off to go about his business, but Ratau spots him changing direction to stop at the shoddily made shrine of their lord to give a quick prayer to it.

“Please stay safe, Ratau.” Ches pleads. “I know you don’t need to hear it at this point, but you can’t fault a mother for worrying about the youngins.” Ratau opens his mouth to retort, but Ches continues before he gets the chance. “I know you’re not a kid, but you’re one of the youngest left. I… lost mine. Everyone here is all I have left. I can’t imagine losing even a single one, especially someone as brave and thoughtful as you.”

“I feel the same way.” Ratau tells her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I don’t know if it will be before sundown, but rest assured I will be back eventually. Our lord will make sure of it.”

“I’ll pray for your good health and fortune.” Ches promises, bowing her head as Ratau waves goodbye and hurries over to the stairs, desperate to escape before anyone else wakes up to voice their concerns or say goodbye. He’s got a lot of work to do, and the sooner he gets out there, the sooner he gets his brother back.

Passing under the archway and finding himself before the old shrine, he makes a beeline towards the door leading out into the Darkwood. He only got a night’s worth of teaching, but he’s now armed with the training of Aym and the knowledge of Baal. He has a week of slowly gathered devotion built up within him and a newfound determination to put an end to the Old Faith.

Marching through the door into the darkness beyond it, he embarks on his second crusade.

Chapter Text

The gateway was not simply a passage into the Darkwood.

Ratau thought he’d be retreading old ground, but marching into the Darkwood again, he finds himself on a pathway he doesn’t recognize. As the sun started to rise, it rose behind him instead of in front of him this time. He didn’t just walk into the woods, he was teleported somewhere within it when he walked through the door. He has a new path to explore, new places to forage…

And new dangers to watch out for.

Ratau takes his time as he marches through the Darkwood, scavenging for whatever he can fit into the crown while remaining vigilant for ambushes. Death would only be a setback, but he’s already spent enough time sitting around. The One Who Waits is patient, but Ratau isn’t going to test that patience, especially now that he knows what the lord can do for him if his crusades go well.

There’s plenty to find during his early morning hike. Just as he had on his first trip, he stops by every single berry bush and wild crop he finds, grabbing everything he can and stuffing it into the crown for later. He doesn’t find nearly as much as last time, evidently the blessing he received from the fortune teller has since worn off, but each little thing he gathers will help until the farm plots Ches is working on starts to show results.

His scavenging efforts are interrupted, however.

Finding another decent sized patch of berry bushes, Ratau got to work, picking as many as he could while avoiding the thorns within the bushes themselves. There’s one bush that’s a bit smaller than the others though, covered in thorns and loose twigs. He doesn’t see any berries growing from its branches, but it catches his eye nonetheless. Leaving the berry bush he was picking from behind for a moment, he approaches the smaller bush, wondering if there’s anything hiding just behind its thorny exterior.

He gets an answer to that question when the bush suddenly lurches at him, letting out a hiss as it goes for his ankles.

Ratau yelps as he quickly backs away, hopping around on one foot as the bush thing tries to bite down on him. It was like an evil, baby version of Leshy! Ratau tries to clear out and run away, only for more of the bushes in the clearing to suddenly spring to life as well, all of them quickly scurrying across the grass to bite at him.

The Red Crown transforms into a dagger without Ratau’s conscious effort. There’s food that his flock needs in this clearing, he can’t let these little monsters scare him away.

Planting his feet and running towards them instead of away from them, he makes quick work of the little monsters. His dagger catches on the thorns and he’s forced to get real low to hit the shorter ones, but in less than a minute, he manages to take out four of the bush monsters with only a few scratches on his legs. It was his easiest fight yet, but he can’t really chalk it up to his improved strength or training. These bush… worm… whatevers didn’t pose that much of a threat compared to a full size person with a blade of their own.

He needs something better than a dagger. Looking down at the now bloodied blade, it’s served him well so far, but Aym made it very apparent of its weaknesses. It was fast, its asymmetrical curves could do some real damage when he gets a good hit in, but his lack of range forces him to get in real close. He’s still flesh and blood, a few good hits will kill him, he needs something more defensible.

“Can you grow longer maybe?” Ratau asks his blade, staring down at the red eye in its hilt. In its current form it isn’t able to shake or nod an answer, but its inaction in his hand tells him what he needs to know. Its current form is the best he’s gonna get. He guesses he still needs to feed the crown more until it’s able to transform into more complex weapons.

Returning to its crown form, Ratau takes the crown and returns to the berry bushes to finish picking them clean before moving on. Though, as he picks through the berries, he looks down at the dead monsters. According to The One Who Waits, his brother won’t be able to come back from nothing. He needs sacrifices. Approaching one of the dead bush things, he kicks it over, watching as blood spills from the deep cut on its side. Should he bring this thing with him just in case? He doubts this beast alone will be able to bring Ratoo back, but it’ll be a start, right?

The crown forms into a dagger as he kneels down. At the very least, maybe everyone back home could eat this thing. Bringing his blade down, he starts cutting into the monster, aiming to slice it into small enough pieces to fit into the crown. He needed to be resourceful. He just hopes this thing doesn’t bleed all over his stuff in the crown.

The Darkwood seems far more dangerous this time around.

As the day went on, Ratau was bothered by more than just the weird bush monsters. Bats swoop in at random as he tries to make his way through the thicket. The earth heaves beneath his feet as beasts tunnel beneath him, forcing him to find high ground to avoid being noticed. There was even another small camp he discovered full of fanatics that he elected to avoid, not wanting a repeat of the disastrous end of his last crusade. The fanatics have tools, food, and other luxuries that he can’t find while foraging, but he still needs to be careful.

He’s forced to trudge through the thicket to avoid confrontations with larger groups and it’s harder to spot useful items and food, but it keeps him safe and moving forward. As the sun reaches its highest point and begins making its long descent towards the horizon, Ratau forces himself out of the thicket and into a small clearing with a river flowing through it. He remains cautious as he steps towards the water, eager to get a drink and to wash off the blood of the beasts he was forced to defend himself from, but he stops when he hears a noise not too dissimilar to the clinking of Clauneck’s trinkets, but noticeably different. His eyes point upward, looking for the glittering stars and moons that will lead him to the fortune teller.

He instead finds several blades dangling from the branches.

Spears, swords, knives, maces, hammers, polearms. More weapons than Ratau’s ever seen in one place hangs over a dark passageway through the trees. Deep within that darkness, Ratau sees the telltale glow of a fire.

This didn’t seem like Clauneck’s work, this was something different, something that wasn’t nearly as inviting. Despite that, Ratau moves towards it, leaving the river behind him as he investigates. He keeps a close eye on the weapons above him as he passes underneath, his body tense and ready to move if one of them were to suddenly fall, but they dangle harmlessly overhead as he follows the light and the rising heat.

Smoke obscures his vision as he stumbles into another clearing, forcing him to squint his eyes to try and see. Close to the source of the flame, he hears the sound of a hammer striking steel, sparks flying and illuminating the dark canopy with flashes of light. He follows that sound as the haze starts to irritate his eyes, but after a certain point, the hammer strikes stop and the clearing goes quiet.

"Step forward, beast, from the swirling mists of chaos that surround. Allow me to regard you wholly.”

Ratau freezes as someone addresses him from within the haze. Though, at the sound of their voice, the heat within the clearing starts to die down and the smoke clears. Ratau steps a little closer, opening his eyes a little wider now that they don’t burn as much to find who spoke to him.

Sitting before a large anvil with a red hot blade still resting atop of it is a somewhat familiar sight. Ratau lets out a short gasp to find yet another owl residing in the Darkwood, just as ancient as Clauneck. Unlike the fortune teller, this one bears feathers of yellow instead of red, and to Ratau’s concern, several swords appear to be lodged in the owl’s back.

“Hmm…” Tired eyes peer out from beneath the stranger’s flat hood, scrutinizing Ratau.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Ratau asks, unsure of what else to say.

“Fate foretold of another, yet you bear the weight of a crown upon your brow.” The old stranger hums. “It has been some time since I have spoken with my kin, perhaps I misheard. Your hands are stained as red as the eyes of the lord you serve. I feel his presence looming over you. You are his chosen liberator.”

This stranger seems to be aware of who he is, or at least what he is, but Ratau’s clueless as to who this stranger could be. Something he mentioned earlier gets his attention though. “Do you know Clauneck?” Ratau asks, stepping forward to look at the sword on the anvil.

“The fortune teller, my brother.” The owl nods. “If you have spoken with him, you are worthy of the crown on your brow.” The owl bows his head in reverence, his bony hands clasped together. “I am Kudaai. I, as well as the rest of my kin, were given a holy task long ago by the old gods that molded this world. You have met the brother who commands fate and prophecy, I deal in more… tangible instruments. I have forged the blades of the gods who created this world, as well as the weapons which slaughtered them. The whispers of prophecy tell of the end of the Old Faith, but if you are to liberate He Who Waits Below, you must wield a blade to deliver your judgment onto others.”

“Are you gonna give me a sword?!” Ratau asks in shock. Clauneck gave him free tarot readings simply for wearing the crown. Parting ways with a magic card seems a bit easier than giving away an entire sword, but Kudaai nods his head, answering his question.

“I am the smith of lordly arms.” He confirms. “A crown bearer requires an instrument to carve the world in their image and subjugate those who challenge their rule. How else are you to cut the chains of your master?” Reaching forward, Ratau watches with alarm as the smith grabs hold of the still red hot blade he was drawing out, its heat sizzling against his flesh as he slowly drags it over to a waiting casket of oil, dropping the blade into it where it lets out a steaming hiss as it cools. Smoke rises from the owl’s hand as he reaches out to Ratau. “Part from your crown for but a moment.” He asks, his burnt palm upturned and waiting for Ratau to give him something. “I shall draw out its true potential.”

Ratau slowly reaches for his crown, looking down at it once it’s in his hands. It does not seem bothered by the prospect of being handed off to this stranger. In fact, it tugs against his grip, trying to free itself so it can fall into the smith’s grasp.

“Please be careful with it.” Ratau pleads, handing off the crown. “I don’t want you to hurt it.”

The crown is deposited onto the smith’s still burning palm. Holding it close, Kudaai stares down into the crown’s red eye. “It has been some time.” He hums, gently stroking one of the barbs with his thumb. “Of all my crafts, you were the deadliest. While the others tore flesh and broke bone, you severed the soul. You ended the reign of the old gods…” Gripping down on the crown, it quickly forms back into the dagger Ratau was used to. “You have not forgotten your purpose, though centuries of disuse have starved you.”

With his free hand Kudaai reaches over to open the latch of the small furnace he had sitting beside him, and without warning, he throws the crown into the flames.

“HEY!” Ratau cries out, stepping forward to stop the smith when the furnace suddenly erupts in blinding light and searing heat. He’s forced to stumble back and shield himself as his ears ring with the sound of eldritch, pained screams. Squinting his eyes against the light of the flames, Kudaai sits motionless, unbothered by the fire that burns at his feathers.

The furnace beside him rocks back and forth as the Red Crown slams against its interior, desperate to escape the heat. Ratau can hear it crying, he can hear what sounds like the screams of hundreds of tortured souls calling out at once for help.

“LET IT OUT!” Ratau screams, forcing himself to step forward into the heat to rescue the crown. “LET IT OUT OR I’LL-”

Without a word, Kudaai reaches his bare hands into the furnace, pulling its contents free.

What he pulls out is not a crown or a blade, but a writhing, burning mass of black and red that squirms in his hands, desperate to escape. Kudaai’s grip is tight, however, his frail bony arms hiding truly impressive strength. He throws the mass upon his anvil with a splat, spilling black ichor across his workspace as he holds the crown down with one hand while reaching for his hammer with the other.

Ratau is left completely paralyzed. He doesn’t have the strength to try and fight this stranger, and even if he did, he isn’t sure if he’d be able to hurt him. The smith is handling molten metal and fire with his bare hands and is wrangling whatever the crown is made of like it’s nothing. None of the weapons lying beside the smith look light enough for him to take up and even if they were, he’d have to get by the smith to reach them.

All he can do is watch as Kudaai takes his hammer to the crown, forcing a pained cry out of it with each strike.

As time passes, however, those cries fade. The writhing mass of black and red starts to solidify once more. The place where Kudaai was gripping it starts to warp around his grip, forming a pommel and a guard below and above it. The mass that the smith continuously strikes starts to change color into a gleaming silver. The red eye of the crown returns to the hilt, strained and clearly in pain, but it’s alive.

Setting the hammer down, Kudaai wordlessly holds out his work for Ratau to take. With shaking hands, Ratau reaches out to take his crown back, snatching it out of the smith’s hands before he can pull it back again.

It’s still warm to the touch, but the once small, jagged dagger that the crown usually transformed to had been straightened and drawn out into a proper straight sword. It feels weighty in Ratau’s hands and its blade is both sharp enough to whistle as he swings it through the air and polished enough for him to see his own terrified reflection in it.

“Forged and tempered in hellfire.” Kudaai speaks, but Ratau’s eyes are focused on the eye on the swords hilt, praying that the crown wasn’t hurt too badly in the strange and violent process of drawing out its potential. “Blades can only be sharpened under the rough scrape of stone, molded within burning heat. Its wielder must also be tempered. Muscles must be torn to rebuild stronger, skin must blister and scab to become calloused. Only when you have undergone the same trials yourself will you fully understand the power you hold in your hands.”

“What does…” Ratau finally pries his eyes away from the hilt of his sword to interrogate the smith who just got done scaring the life out of him only to find an empty field. He spins around, growling with anger as the furnace, the anvil, and the weapons hanging from the trees have all vanished.

Creepy ass, teleporting magic birds. Clauneck was cryptic enough on his own, but his brother was even more of a headache.

“Are you alright?” Ratau returns his attention to the crown, staring down at its red eye. “You were screaming. You’re not hurt, are you?” He isn’t sure if it’s his hands shaking or the crown trembling in his grasp, but the sword blinks up at him once before reverting back into its original form. It takes a moment to get its proper shape, the barbs on top of the horn looking a little too sharp for a moment before it settles. It seems perfectly fine, much to Ratau’s relief.

Now that he’s confirmed that the crown isn’t damaged, he holds his hand out and it turns back into a sword once more. He swings it through the air, getting himself used to its weight and slashing at the tall grass beside him. He was wishing for a slightly longer weapon than the dagger he was stuck with. If Kudaai is Clauneck’s brother, maybe fate led him here?

With his newly acquired sword, Ratau leaves the clearing out the same way he came in. He’s got some backtracking to do, there’s a few zealots in a camp a mile back that he’s eager to try this new sword out on.

Ratau marched with a lot more confidence after breaking in the new sword for the first time.

After backtracking to an old camp he avoided for his own safety, he managed to get the jump on everyone there and the newly forged blade made quick work of everyone who stood in his way. It didn’t feel all that heavy compared to his dagger, but that’s just because of his increased strength. The sizable blade was heavy enough to cleave straight through bone if he put enough effort into his swings.

The zealots stood no chance against him and after raiding their camp for everything they had, he was happy with the haul he had. He did not stop though. The sun was still high in the sky and he was determined to get as much done that day as possible.

Though as the sun began to set over the trees, the sky turning orange as it burned off on the horizon, Ratau found himself pressing forward. He doesn’t really need to stop. Everyone back home has enough food to last for a while longer and as long as he’s out here, he’s going to keep finding more things to bring back. Even if something happens to him, he gets ambushed, one of the bishops return, The One Who Waits will just bring him back home after reviving him through that strange stone in front of the old shrine.

He’ll keep fighting until he either gets bored or dies. As long as he’s putting the work in, he’s getting closer to getting Ratoo back.

If he keeps this up, he might find Clauneck again for another fortune. If he heard correctly, it sounded like the smith and the fortune teller might have other siblings somewhere out here. He’d like to pin at least one of them down to try and get more answers out of them before they disappear on him again. Maybe The One Who Waits can tell him what their deal is after this trip ends. Both the brothers seemed to know who originally owned the Red Crown.

Even with his heightened bravado and his brand new sword, Ratau still remains vigilant as he marches through the woods, always searching for things worth grabbing and threats hiding in the bushes.

Night starts to fall, limiting his visibility and forcing him to rely on moonlight to see, but in the dim light, some things become easier to spot. Quietly creeping through the thicket in search of another clearing, he spots a distant light through the trees. Another fire means another camp. If more zealots are hiding out here, they’re going to have more goodies to bring back to everyone. Food, clothing, tools. It was worth the risk.

Cutting through the thicket and making a beeline towards the light, he keeps his ears out to gauge how many people he’d have to deal with. Once he’s close enough, he’s able to make out a few notable voices. One is preaching loudly, addressing a group of people who repeat his mantra in a chant. As he tries to pick out how many voices are repeating the speaker’s words, someone interrupts.

“Let me go ya mumbly bastards! I oughta wring each and every one of your necks for this!”

Ratau freezes. That wasn’t the whispered prayers of a fanatic. They’ve captured someone! He quickens his pace, desperate to reach the troubled prisoner without alerting their captors. Hurrying through the brush, he presses himself flat against a nearby tree and peeks out at the scene unfolding in what appears to be the the sight of an old temple. A large statue dominates the cobblestone courtyard, depicting the tree-like form of Leshy. The sight of the stone statue is enough to make Ratau’s skin crawl, but his eyes quickly pull away from it to stare down at the stone slab placed before the statue where a helpless man is tied down.

“Cut these ropes and put away those knives and I’ll give your god a show!” A tortoise barks out as he tries desperately to roll off the slab he’s tied down to. “I’ll break every one of you in two with my bare hands! Let me go!”

“Lord Leshy!” The tallest of the zealots standing before the captured tortoise raises his voice to be heard over his prisoner’s shouted threats. “I offer you the beating heart of this foul trespasser upon your lands. A miscreant who steals from the bounty you offer us all. For his crimes, we shall return him to the soil so that you may make use of his traitorous blood to fertilize new life!”

“If you want fertilizer, I’ll shit in your gardens, how about that?!” The tortoise spats, but the zealots pay him no mind as their chanting grows louder. Ratau watches with rising horror as the leading zealot draws a dagger, raising it far above his head to plunge it into his prisoner’s chest.

He can’t let this stand. He needs to get in there and do something. He feels fire burn within his chest and his vision goes red with rage.

With a shout, he charges out from the woods, bellowing out a curse upon the monster attempting to take the life of an innocent.

Everyone’s attention is split two ways as half of the zealots turn to face Ratau as he charges out of the woods while the other half panics as the ground beneath their leader explodes and a writhing tentacle of black and red erupts from the ground to constrict around him. Ratau takes advantage of the chaos, singling out the most dangerous looking members of the group first while they’re distracted.

The first zealot he comes across hasn’t even drawn their weapon before Ratau brings his sword down upon them. The blade effortlessly cuts them in two, separating their top and bottom halves in a horrific display of power that terrifies everyone nearby, granting Ratau enough time to swing his sword upward in an underhand slash that severs someone’s leg.

Not everyone is as slow to react, however. Quickly rushing in from his side before he can get a proper handle on his sword again, a blade suddenly sinks into his thigh, causing him to cry out in pain before spinning around with his sword held outstretched to slash at his attacker. It hurts like hell and putting any weight on his leg makes it worse, but he’d manage. Seeing their friend land a solid blow encourages many of them to charge forward and make attacks of their own, blindly charging him in the hopes that their numbers will overwhelm him.

Ratau is prepared this time.

Aym did not only teach him to properly defend himself with a blade, but also how to reliably call upon curses. Fueled by righteous fervor, he calls upon the terrible power of the crown and once more the earth before him splits apart and devilish appendages burst forth to strike and constrict anyone too close. The crowd disperses, some trying to fight the writhing tentacles, others turning to flee. It serves as a perfect distraction and Ratau is able to easily thin the herd a little more without too much trouble.

It’s a complete bloodbath, but very soon the horde of zealots that were at least a dozen strong quickly dwindles down to a terrified few. Two of them try to group up, trying to watch each other’s backs as Ratau approaches. Another runs for the forest, knowing they don’t stand a chance if they stick around.

The One Who Waits praised Ratau for allowing a few of his enemies to live and spread word of his deeds. As he strikes the remaining two zealots down in the temple, the coward makes their escape to strike terror into the hearts of every other cultist who preys upon innocents.

Ratau stops to catch his breath, feeling his whole body cry out as the few lucky hits his opponents managed to land sting. The bleeding stab wound in his leg is going to make the rest of this journey a lot more difficult, but he’d push through. Anything to ensure the safety of-

“Are you just gonna stand there or what?!” Raising his head and slowly turning around, Ratau finds the tortoise is still strapped down and fighting his restraints. With no one left to yell at, he’s turned his mouth on the only remaining person here. “I don’t know what nightmarish pit of hell you crawled out of, but either free me or kill me. I swear, if you leave me on this damned slab, I’ll-”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming.” Ratau does his best to assure him, letting go of his sword and returning the Red Crown to his head before hobbling over to him, trying to put as little weight on his injured leg as possible. “Are you hurt?”

“I have an itch on my back I haven’t been able to scratch for hours!” The tortoise shouts, making his discomfort very clear. “Just wanna take a hike through the woods and eat some apples but I guess that’s a crime in these parts! What are you gonna do to me then? Gonna eat my soul or feed me to whatever beast you sicked on those freaks?”

“No, no.” Ratau shakes his head, accidentally splattering blood on the man in the process. He takes a minute to look over himself to find he is absolutely drenched in blood. He must be a pretty terrifying sight, even if he’s here to help. “I’m going to take you to a safe place where other people like you are living.” Ratau tells him, untying the ropes that bind him. “I’m here to save you from the wrath of the Old Faith. Can I have your name?”

“You’re not gonna curse it the moment I share?” The tortoise asks him skeptically. Ratau lets out a tired sigh as he finishes freeing him, stepping back to allow the tortoise to sit up and scratch the itch that’s been bothering him. This was the first friendly, normal stranger he’s met outside of his village. Maybe mistrust is common in these parts under the rule of the traitorous bishops. Ratau hopes that his kindness and the hospitality of his friends back home will open him up.

“My name is Ratau.” Ratau introduces himself, wiping himself off as much as he can and taking a bow. “Chosen liberator of The One Who Waits. And you?”

“Shrumy.” The tortoise tells him, sliding off the slab and stretching himself out now that he’s free from his bindings. Several trinkets and tools rattle against his hard shell, held in place with several belts and straps. “And I don’t need your help. I’m doing just fine on my own. If you cut me free earlier, I would have handled these troublemakers all by my damn self. ‘Sides, I’m not about to follow some freaky kid bleeding from the eyes and speaking in tongues.”

“I’m not a kid.” Ratau grumbles.

“You something else crawling around in this kid’s skin then?” Shrumy questions, jabbing a finger into Ratau’s chest. “You sure look like a kid to me.”

Ratau could feel his patience start to wear thin with this man. He isn’t used to people being this openly hostile with him. Even Aym offered praise and respect when he earned it, this guy was just mean. He isn’t just gonna leave him here to fend for himself though.

“Please. If you don’t want to come with me, at least let me accompany you home so no one bothers you on the way back.” Ratau offers. These woods are clearly dangerous and the cultists that worship Leshy are looking for any excuse to take their aggression out on people like Shrumy.

“I am home.” Shrumy tells Ratau, reaching back and knocking on his shell. “Got everything I need here. As long as creeps like you don’t catch me by surprise, I’ll be fine. Now if you’d kindly crawl back into whatever hellhole you came from and leave me alone, that’d be swell.”

Shrumy turns his back on Ratau, various tools, blades, canteens and cooking utensils clattering against his shell with the movement before he starts wandering off. Ratau risked his life and lost a good deal of blood trying to save him and he couldn’t even say thanks for the effort. This grouchy tortoise might just be the rudest person Ratau’s ever met.

He’s about to let him go since he insists he’ll be fine on his own, but Ratau’s eyes fall to the floor of the temple and spots something that the tortoise is unwittingly walking into.

“Hey! Look out!” Quickly rushing forward, Ratau manages to grab hold of Shrumy’s shell and pulls him back before he can step on a smooth stone that looks exactly like the one back home. The markings had begun to glow red with the tortoise's presence, but they fade now as both Shrumy and Ratau stumble backwards and fall flat on their backs. Ratau just saved the tortoise from potentially falling into a portal, but he is not thanked for his quick rescue.

“You little rat bastard! What was that for?!” Shrumy is stuck on his back, trying to roll himself around but he’s unable to prop himself back up with his shell in the way. “I oughta knock your lights out for this. I swear, the moment I manage to get to my feet-”

“I was just trying to help!” Ratau barks, no longer able to hide his frustration as he rises to his feet and reaches for Shrumy’s hand. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?! I saved your life twice now, the least you can do is thank me!”

“And I said I don’t need your help!” Shrumy spats back, trying to smack Ratau’s hands away but he gets a good grip on him to help anyways. Once Ratau pulls the tortoise back to his feet, he crosses his arms, glaring up at Shrumy. “What’s that look for, pipsqueak?”

“All I want is a thank you.” Ratau pouts. “I got stabbed trying to save you. You would have been carved open and scooped clean if I didn’t risk my life to rescue you. I want at least some acknowledgement.”

“I can see the crown on your head, kid.” Shrumy spats. “I know you don’t give a damn about me personally. You want to turn me into another one of those hooded freaks mumbling in tongues and paying on my knees. That shit ain’t happening. Find some other poor soul to brainwash, I’ll never join one of your psychotic cults.”

Shrumy turns his back again to march in a different direction, one that this time has no obstacles in his direct path. Ratau can’t help but feel insulted. His first thoughts were only to rescue someone in danger, an innocent life that was about to be snuffed out by the Old Faith just like the lamb and all his friends. Was he naïve for thinking other people would see his good intentions? Did mistrust run so deep in these lands that simply wearing a crown is enough to make people fear him?

He stands back, letting Shrumy walk off since it’s clear he wants nothing to do with him, but the tortoise freezes in place as a sudden gust of wind blows into the old temple, sending a chill up Ratau’s spine. The crown trembles on his head before quickly falling to Ratau’s hand to arm him. He spins around, hurting his leg in the process as he desperately searches for signs of the bishop.

“This isn’t you, is it?!” Shrumy asks, his tone now very different as he quickly returns to Ratau’s side. Ratau quickly steps forward to shield him from any dangers despite his rudeness. The air grows colder, the wind agitates his wounds.

A god is approaching.

Ratau looks around, desperate to find some way to get Shrumy out of here. Ratau will be fine facing the wrath of Leshy, but the tortoise won’t get a second chance like him. The leaves of the trees in the nearby woods rustle in the wind, powerful gusts of air blow in through every entrance into the temple. They’re trapped inside, however…

“Shrumy! Stand on that circle!” Ratau reaches out and grabs hold of the tortoise, yanking him backwards to throw him to the transportation circle.

“Hey! You little shit! Let me-” Ratau pulls back with enough strength to accidentally trip Shrumy up again and he falls back first onto the circle. A second after he touches it, the ground opens up beneath him and he’s swallowed in a flash of red light. Shrumy is now gone, to where Ratau doesn’t know. He prays that the tortoise is now safe back in the clearing with the rest of his friends, but anywhere is better than right here.

Ratau stands his ground, bracing himself to face off against the bishop once more. He isn’t strong enough to take on Leshy as he is now, he knows that, but he wants to try. He wants to prove to himself that he isn’t a complete pushover. One good cut, one chopped vine and he can die happy.

The wind dies down, but the darkness that falls upon the temple doesn’t break. The stone statue at the center of the holy site cracks. Black, viscous ichor dribbles out from beneath the blindfold wrapped around the statue's head.

“This smell…” The voice of the bishop falls over the temple, coming from no direction in particular. “The fool! But how?! You should be red paste, rat!”

“I’m not going down that easy.” Ratau sneers. “I swore myself to your ruin. Death will not stop me!” Ratau readies his sword, pointing it towards the statue. He’s probably going to pay for speaking up against a god like this, but he knows The One Who Waits is watching, maybe his servants too. It was about time he started acting his role.

It must have worked because the air suddenly grows cold again and the statue in front of him cracks.

“No…” It’s hard to tell in such a raspy voice, but Ratau thinks he hears fear in his voice. “No no no! I can smell his stench on you! I heard your guts splatter against the ground! You…” The statue continues to crack, black ichor spilling out and pooling beneath it. “You wear his crown…”

There’s no denying it, Leshy was afraid! Ratau couldn’t help but smile with a twisted sense of pride. The monster that took everything from him was now terrified of him. He should be scared!

“You’re the one interrupting the sacrifices!” Leshy hisses, trying to hide his fear with anger. “I’ll… I’ll skewer you! Flay you alive! Bind you in chains and string you up over a fire! I’ll…” The statue suddenly stops shaking, the oozing ichor comes to a stop. “I can smell you. You plan to hide while this blasphemer invades my temple?!”

“I’m sorry my lord!” A zealot suddenly reveals themself from behind one of the support pillars of the temple. Ratau recognizes them as the same zealot who fled from the battle moments ago. “Everyone fell so quickly, I didn’t know what to do! Please forgive me, I-”

“You pledged your loyalty and life to me, Vassago.” The god’s voice booms as the zealot approaches the statue, splitting their attention between their lord and the bloody invader intruding in the temple. “Do you expect to be forgiven for letting this heretic sully this holy ground?! Prove your loyalty! Kill this demon before me!”

“I…” The zealot, Vassago, turns to look at Ratau who readies his sword. Ratau’s ready to strike down this fanatic just like the rest, but instead of blindly following their lord, Vassago curls up and cowers within their hood. “I’m sorry lord Leshy! I’m not strong enough! Please forgive me! I cannot fight!”

Ratau raises a brow. Why is Leshy trying to force this poor guy to fight him? It’s clear to him now that Leshy is blind, but can he not smell the gore that stains his temple? Even if Vassago was strong and willing, they’d go down like the rest. Ratau just feels bad for them.

“You are not strong enough?” Leshy asks, his tone suddenly taking on a concerningly gentle tone. ”Would you like me to grant you the strength you need, young Vassago?”

“Please!” Vassago bows before the statue. “Anything to keep me in your good graces! Please just spare me!”

“Stop this!” Ratau demands. While the others were quick to draw blades and fight back, it’s clear that Vassago isn’t like the others. Maybe they were pressured into the cult, maybe they joined out of fear, but this person isn’t a monster. This was someone being manipulated into doing the Old Faith’s terrible deeds. Leshy was too much of a coward to face him directly and was trying to throw more helpless minions at him.

Ratau steps forward to pull Vassago away from the statue, but before he can get close, Vassago suddenly screams out in pain as the cold air around them goes completely frigid.

“Wait!” They cry out. “Wait, no! Stop! Lord Leshy! It hurts!”

“If your feeble flesh cannot serve me in mortal form, then you are of no use to me!” Leshy tells his crying follower, his voice growing distant and echoey as his presence seems to dissipate. “If men cannot stop the demon invading my temples, so be it. I will call upon monsters instead!”

Ratau stumbles back, watching as the hooded form of the zealot heaves and twists at unnatural angles, their body contorting into something that no longer resembles a person. They scream the whole time, each snap of bone and splash of gore turning them into something terrible. Ratau feels his own guts churn as he watches, unable to do anything to stop this. He feels like he failed to save this poor, brainwashed fanatic from the lies of the Old Faith.

Eventually Vassago’s cries of pain devolve into guttural, gurgly growls. Ratau continues to back up as the once cowardly zealot slowly turns around, bones sticking out the back of their cloak and strange pustules growing from their skin. Bulging, bloodshot eyes lock onto his and they open up their mouth now full of razor sharp teeth to let out a horrible roar, shaking Ratau to his core.

Without warning, the twisted beast charges for him.

Ratau’s injured leg prevents him from retreating, forcing him to try and face the beast head on. With incredible speed, the now monstrous Vassago leaps at him, trying to wrap their maw of sharp teeth around his head. Ratau brings his sword up to defend himself and the monster bites down the blade, sinking it into their gums as they try to wrench it out of his grasp. Their rapid movement ruptures the pustules on their skin, each one busting with a hiss and burning, acidic goop starts to leak from every pore.

“GET BACK!” Ratau commands, and fueled by the fervor in his heart, the crown forces the beast backwards with a powerful blast, throwing both the monster and Ratau backwards from the force. Getting steady on his feet and hissing out in pain as the pressure on his injured leg nearly takes him to the ground, Ratau readies his sword. He couldn’t save Vassago from turning into this thing, the closest thing to mercy he can show them now is putting them out of their misery.

Unable to charge forward himself, Ratau keeps his sword held in front of him, waiting for the monster to make the first move. When Vassago makes another blind charge, gnashing their teeth as they try to bite down on him, Ratau throws himself forward, tucking himself into a roll as he holds his blade out above him. Vassago overshoots and soars over him, but they don’t miss Ratau’s blade. The pointed tip digs into their underside, splitting them open and showering Ratau with blood and burning acid. He quickly pushes to his feet, trying his best to ignore the pain in his leg as he quickly pats himself down to get the worst of the acid out of his fur.

Even with the injury, Vassago quickly turns themself around to continue the attack, lunging back at Ratau before he can brace himself. Ratau cries out as several teeth bite into his already injured leg, each tooth feeling just as sharp as the dagger that originally pierced his flesh. Ratau slams the pommel of his sword onto Vassago’s back, desperate to get them to let him go as he feels them try to gnaw his leg off. Striking one of the protruding bones coming out of their back with his blade, Vassago lets out a horrible screech, opening their mouth wide enough to let Ratau free as he continues to push them back.

Ratau struggles to stand upright, using his sword as a crutch as he bleeds rapidly from his mangled leg. He can barely move at all now. Things aren’t looking good for him, but Vassago is clearly hurting too. They writhe around on the stone floor, wailing in agony and rolling around in a growing pool of their own acid. Ratau sucks in deep breaths and tries to endure the pain. Just one more solid hit and he should be able to take this thing down.

Vassago roars, their whole body trembling with rage as they turn to face Ratau. Their eyes are bulging out of their sockets, completely overtaken with madness and bloodlust. They charge again, but while it’s clear that they’re not going to be able to take much more punishment, Ratau lacks the strength to fight back. He tries to lift his sword out in the hopes that maybe he can skewer them when they leap at him again, but he’s unable to keep his balance on one leg, forcing him to continue relying on the sword as a crutch. He can’t move, he can’t fight, he’s stuck!

Vassago leaps into the air, barreling down right towards him. Ratau can do nothing but brace himself over his sword and hunker down, praying that his death will be quick and painless.

The Red Crown is not willing to give up the fight just yet, however.

Moments before Vassago crashes on top of him, the sword Ratau’s using to support himself suddenly shoots upward in his grip, throwing him back with tremendous force. Vassago hits Ratau’s back, but instead of crushing him, they’re carried with the sudden backwards momentum and are thrown off Ratau’s shoulders and sent flying across the temple grounds right into the statue in its center.

Ratau’s back hits the ground, but Vassago smashes into the statue, reducing it to ichor stained rubble as they cry out in pain and choke on the debris it kicks up. There’s an ache in his chest where the pommel of his sword slammed into him to get him to move, but that pales in comparison to the absolute agony in his leg.

That pain does not last, however.

Trying to push himself up, he suddenly finds a surge of strength flooding his body, numbing his pain and sharpening his senses. As the statue in front of him crumbles, he can see crackling wisps of energy escape from the bloodstained stone, all of it flooding into the crown that now rests on his head.

The destruction of the false idol is feeding him! Harvesting the devotion for himself, Ratau stands on both legs, watching as his wounds reseal. His body burns with excess fervor, begging to be released as the monster that terrorized him moments ago tries desperately to free itself from beneath the rubble.

Raising his hands, he channels the fervor within him through the crown, and with a blinding flash of red light, the monster and the remains of the statue are consumed by hellfire.

All at once, the pain comes rushing back as his curse consumes most of his energy. He’s unable to stand himself up anymore and he falls back to the ground, propping himself up with his hands as he watches the false idol and the monster burn.

He did it! He rescued someone from the Old Faith, foiled a sacrifice, slain a monster and destroyed a temple and statue of one of the traitors! He’s never felt more accomplished in his life. He’s sure that The One Below is smiling upon him. No doubt Aym will ease up on him once he hears of his glorious battle here. He might be seeing them personally very soon if he doesn’t get back home to do something about this leg though. He’s high on adrenaline, but the blood loss is going to catch up to him eventually. Summoning his sword, he tries to prop himself upright when a sound catches his attention from the now smoldering ruin in front of him.

“Please… I don’t wanna die…”

Was… Was Vassago still alive?!

Struggling to his feet, Ratau hobbles over to the rubble and sure enough the fanatic is still moving. Their cloak has burned away, leaving only singed flesh and ruptured boils. Bones still jut out at unnatural angles and uneven teeth fill their mouth, but the horrifying transformation they went through has been reversed somewhat, leaving behind something that resembles a person again. They’re curled up in pain, cowering and begging as Ratau approaches.

“Spare me, please…” They whimper, trying to crawl away. “I had no choice. You have to believe me!”

“Hey, hey.” Ratau tries to calm them down, hobbling after them. He wants to put the sword away to show he meant no harm, but it’s the only thing keeping him upright at the moment. “I’m not gonna hurt you anymore, I just want to-”

“I know where the treasury is!” Vassago blurts, still desperately trying to get away. “If I show you, will you let me live?! Please, I’ll do anything!”

“A treasury?” Ratau’s assurances are silenced as the zealot’s words fall upon his ears. “What’s in the treasury?”

“I’ll show you, please.” Vassago repeats, stopping his retreat to turn and clasp his hands to Ratau. “I will serve you instead. I’ll give you whatever you wish, just let me live.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Ratau insists, propping himself up with his sword as he kneels down to help the frightened fanatic off the ground. “I’ve saved you from the monster you once worshiped, the monster that did this to you. I promise, I will never do the same to you.”

“You…” Vassago looks up at him, eyes wide with fear and confusion. “You won’t?”

“I’m going to take you somewhere safe.” Ratau nods. “Someplace where the rest of my friends are hiding from Leshy and the other bishops. You’ll never have to live in fear again as long as I’m here to protect you, alright?”

Vassago looks like they’re about to cry as they tentatively reach their hand out to him. Taking their hand and helping them up to their feet, Ratau feels another surge of pride as the new member of his flock starts to relax. They tremble with pain, still hurt from the burns and the popped boils on their skin, but as long as Ratau is fit to fight, he won’t let anything else hurt them.

“Before we go, can you show me this treasury you mentioned?” Ratau asks. He desperately needs to get some help with his leg, but greed starts to get the better of him. He’s already gathered a good amount of stuff from the camps he raided earlier in the day, but a temple's treasury sounds like it could hold all sorts of goodies to bring home.

“Of course, my lord!” Vassago quickly bows their head, moving to lead Ratau to it.

“You don’t have to call me that.” Ratau assures them. “You can call me Ratau.”

“Whatever you wish, Lord Ratau.” Vassago bows again, hurrying off to the edge of the temple grounds to lead the way to the treasury. That’s not quite what Ratau told them, but it works. He actually likes the sound of it. Lord Ratau. Never in his life did he think people would call him a lord. It fits, he is wearing a crown after all.

Hobbling after Vassago and leaning heavily on his sword, Ratau follows his new friend into a separate chamber not far from the temple he destroyed. Within the small chamber are a variety of important looking artifacts. On the ground is another transportation stone, sparing him from the walk back home once his business is done here. Several chests line the walls of the treasury waiting to be opened and looted, but Ratau’s eyes fall upon a large door at the other end of the room, bearing the sigil of Leshy’s crown.

Attached to the door and embedded in the ground is what looks to be a large iron chain. The sword in Ratau’s hands trembles at the sight. Is this what he thinks it is?

“Beware those chains, Lord Ratau.” Vassago warns at his side. “Lord Leshy forbids anyone from going near it. They hold down a terrible beast in the depths below us, sparing us from its wrath.”

That confirms it then. Ratau knows what he must do.

Approaching the door and the chains connected to it, Ratau props himself up against the door, raises his sword, and brings it down on the thick links of the chain. The impact runs up his arm, but one of the links chips. A sudden tug from below pulls them taught and the now weakened link snaps. The chains vanish into the earth, dragged into the hells below.

“What did you just…” Vassago is terrified by the sight, but Ratau lets out a hum at his job well done.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ratau assures them. “Let’s go look in these treasure chests now!” Ratau starts hobbling over towards the treasure now, content knowing that his work here is done. Taking notice of his struggle, Vassago quickly hurries to his side to wrap an arm around him to keep him steady. “Thank you. Sorry if I roughed you up too much by the way.”

“As long as you don’t hurt me again, Lord Ratau, I will remain loyal!.” Vassago bows their head again, still treating him like he’s some all powerful being. As nice of a change of pace as it is to have someone practically worshiping him after his run in with that incredibly rude tortoise, it weirds him out a bit. He supposes it’s better than being dismissively called a kid again.

Arm in arm with Vassago, they both approach the first chest of many lining the temple walls. Letting him go, Vassago steps forward to undo the locks for Ratau, sparing him the effort of having to heave it open himself.

The sight of the chest's contents nearly causes Ratau to fall backwards from shock.

Inside of the chest is an obscene amount of wealth. There was more in this once chest than there was spread out across his entire village before it burned down. Golden coins, gemstones, pearls, jewelry. Even Vassago gasps once they get a good look at what’s inside, and this is only the first chest!

“Get the other ones open for me.” Ratau tells his newest friend as he stumbles forward, propping himself up against the lip of the chest and allowing his sword to return to its crown form again. “We have to take as much as we can get!”

Scooping up the contents of the chest with the crown, he watches as hundreds of glittering gold coins get swallowed up into its void. Vassago moves on to open up the other chests and while they aren’t filled with gold coins, they carry other valuable treasures. Fine textiles and fabrics, sweets and smoked meats given as offerings, chiseled stone and marble for the construction of new idols and temples.

Ratau makes his way to each chest, emptying them out into his crown. As he does, however, he can’t help but feel light headed. He can see a red trail snaking around the room, marking where he traveled as blood continues to seep through his wounded leg.

“We should… Probably get home.” Ratau says, feeling very tired all of a sudden. He thought he didn’t get tired anymore. “I think I’m about to pass out.”

“Lord Ratau?!” Vassago looks terrified to hear this. “We are still deep in the Darkwood, it is not safe to rest!”

“Help me to that marked stone there.” Ratau points out the circular stone in the ground with the star shaped markings. “I will take us home.”

“We will be traveling to your temple?” Vassago asks, quickly kneeling beside Ratau to lift him up. “I am eager to join your flock.”

“Don’t have one yet…” Ratau sputters out as he accidentally puts pressure on his leg. The corners of his vision start to go dark. “You can help everyone build it…”

He’s definitely about to black out. He guesses he wasn’t as alright as he thought. As long as he gets Vassago back home though, today will have been a great day. He’ll even get to show off his spoils to his lord.

Dragging him along as his consciousness starts to fade, Vassago stands themself on the stone circle, holding Ratau close so he’s sitting on it too. Ratau isn’t too sure how to properly use these things, but the ground beneath him sucks him in before he can even think of how to activate it, causing him and his new friend to fall for a short while before suddenly being deposited somewhere new. He thinks he sees a fire and the half built temple of the clearing, but everything starts spinning before Ratau can get a good look at anything.

Slipping out from Vassago’s arms, Ratau collapses onto the stone floor and closes his eyes, feeling his whole body go slack as he settles in for the closest thing he can achieve to sleep in his immortal form.

Chapter Text

Awakening in the cold fog of the afterlife, Ratau finds that he is alone. Neither of the brothers have come to fetch him this time around. Pushing himself up in the sand, his leg still looks really bad, but he’s able to move it around without hurting himself. He’s come through here enough times to know the way, so pushing to his feet, he starts walking through the fog.

It isn’t long before three figures appear as the fog parts, but Ratau’s eyes don’t fall on the brothers or his lord…

They fall on the chain that lies broken on the ground.

“You have far exceeded my expectations…” The One Who Waits speaks as Ratau approaches the broken chain, marveling at how large it is down here. “You are far from finished with your work, but in only a few short days, you have instilled fear into the hearts of my siblings and began breaking the chains that bind me. I had expected it to take weeks to push a mere mortal to become a worthy vessel, but you show promise.”

“You said so yourself, we share a similar goal.” Ratau pulls his eyes away from the chain he cut to address his lord. “I hate the Old Faith as much as you do and I want to see them fall under any means necessary. I did a lot better this time!”

“You did.” The One Who Waits nods, rattling the chains still holding him down but smiling despite the pain he’s in. “Two more added to your flock, one of my brother’s temples desecrated and his treasures pillaged. Had you been strong enough to endure your battle, you could have kept going, destroying more of what my brother cherishes. You have done well, but you must do better if you are to set me free.”

At his words, the two cat brothers who silently sat beside their lord rise to their feet, ready to train him in the ways of a swordsman and a scholar. Even in death, he still has work to do.

“This is going to take forever, isn’t it?” Ratau sighs as he looks at the sheer amount of chains weighing his lord down and the single chain he died to cut away.

“Be patient, young vessel.” The One Who Waits heaves, knowing full well just how much waiting he’s going to have to do before he can move freely again. “Kingdoms aren’t built in a day, gods aren’t slain in a week. It will take you years to rise in power enough to slay the bishops.” Ratau grumbles at that. That’s going to be years of people being sacrificed, villages getting raided, innocent people dying. He wants the bishops gone now. “As much of a reward as your service to me is in itself, your continued service and progress will be rewarded as my chains fall. You want your brother back, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Ratau quickly nods. “More than anything!” The One Who Waits hums, smiling as he lifts a hand as much as his bindings will allow.

“You will not slack on your studies with Baal during your recovery.” The One Who Waits orders. “To further incentivize your learning, Baal will be teaching you from the excerpts I wrote while perfecting the art of resurrection. The sooner you can read from my grimoire, the sooner you can revive your brother.”

“I’ll read the whole damn thing forwards and backwards if it means I can get him back.” Ratau promises.

“Then go.” The lord commands. “Let these two mold you into a weapon of war just as the smith forged your blade. I shall remain here, watching as you hone your skills, build up the cult, and slay my enemies. I shall wake you when you are ready.”

With the two cats now at Ratau’s side, he turns to follow them as they walk him back the way they came, granting their master peace from the noise they were about to make. Neither of the brothers speak until they are a good distance away from the chained god, but once they’re out of earshot, it’s Aym who speaks first.

“It is not often that I see joy in the lord's eyes.” He says, glancing down at Ratau. “We all saw the chain snap. No matter how hard he tugs, no matter what we do to help, the chains have never loosened. I hate to say it, but I am envious of your ability to ease our lord's pain.”

“We have eased his pain too, brother.” Baal tells Aym. “He may not say it himself, but I know he appreciates our company. His banishment here would be far more painful without us by his side.”

Ratau feels the brothers’ opinion of him has risen drastically due to his actions. Aym clearly saw him as weak and unworthy and Baal thought he was dumb and naïve, but seeing that chain fall has shown them that he has what it takes to free their master. Well, not yet anyways, but they’re here to fix that.

“Which one of us shall go first, brother?” Aym asks, stopping to turn and look down upon Ratau. “Shall I sit here sharpening my blade while you lecture him, or do you wish to spend time reading for yourself as I test his skills?”

“You may have him first.” Baal says, reaching for Aym’s staff before stepping aside to leave Ratau to his brother’s mercy. “I’m eager to see how he managed to sever one of the lord's chains considering you were pushing him around not long ago.”

“As am I.” Aym nods with a sadistic grin splitting his face.

Baal wanders off towards a nearby pile of bones and seats himself, setting his and his brother’s staffs down in the sand beside him. Aym takes a couple of steps back, giving Ratau some space before circling around him, drawing a sword from a scabbard on his hip. Ratau doesn’t immediately call upon his blade, letting his crown stay settled on his head for now. If he’s learned anything so far, the element of surprise was his friend in fights like this. Aym’s probably expecting him to pull out a dagger, he might not be able to adapt to the length and power of a sword at a moment's notice.

Ratau digs his heels into the sand and braces himself, waiting for his opponent to strike. He can see Aym hesitate for a moment. He spent all of his last visit kicking Ratau’s ass, but he’s obviously improved at least a little bit since then to sever a chain. He’s anxious to charge in.

That anxiety doesn’t last long though. In the blink of an eye, Aym suddenly charges him, sword held out to skewer him where he stands. Just as quickly, Ratau steps back, throwing out his hands to defend himself as the Red Crown leaps from his head to arm him. The moment he feels its grip beneath his palm, he swings his arms outward and catches Aym’s blade with his own, deflecting it and throwing Aym off balance.

The cat's eyes go wide beneath his veil and Ratau tries his best to take advantage of his shock. Throwing himself forward, he tries to jam his sword into Aym’s exposed chest, but he underestimates just how quickly the cat can move. Even then, Ratau draws first blood. While Aym manages to quickly throw himself to the slide and kick a leg out to trip Ratau up, the tip of Ratau’s sword cuts through his black robes and digs into the flesh beneath causing Aym to hiss out in pain and back off instead of finishing Ratau off as he stumbles to the ground.

Ratau quickly picks himself back up, holding his sword out to keep Aym from stabbing him in the back and pinning him down, but the cat doesn’t press the attack. Aym pats his wound down before looking at the blood that stains his fingers. He doesn’t look angry or frustrated, he looks mildly bemused.

“What a cheap trick.” He scoffs, flicking the blood off his hand and readying himself again. “Did Baal teach you that one?”

“No.” Ratau shakes his head, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He actually hit him for once! “Just thought that it wouldn’t be a good idea to show you my new blade before we started.”

“Most grand battles throughout history were won through deception rather than sheer strength.” Baal comments from the sidelines. “You’re wiser than I first thought.”

“And a cheat!” Aym growls. “Where is your sense of honor? Fight fair this time! No underhanded tactics!”

“Do you think a fair fight is what he will get in the mortal world?” Baal questions. “Was what the traitors did to our lord honorable? I’d encourage him to use every deceitful tactic he can to ensure victory.”

“And make him as dishonorable as the traitors he fights?” Aym counters, giving Baal pause.

“I feel like I’m going to have to do some shady stuff if I’m going to kill a god.” Ratau adds onto the conversation. “Leshy alone is like twenty times bigger than me, and like Baal said, I doubt he’d fight fair.”

“You are the bearer of the lord's Red Crown.” Aym says. “I will not have his vessel be a cowardly, cheating cutthroat. You represent The One Who Waits’ will and you will fight with honor and respect! Now, enough talk. Put up your sword! The smith might have forged you a new weapon, but do you know how to use it?”

Ratau readies himself for combat once more, his body still buzzing slightly with adrenaline from his battle against Vassago. Before he can fully brace himself, a question rises to the forefront of his mind. “Do you know the smith?” He asks Aym who lowers his sword with a grumble. “I met him and his brother and I’m still not entirely sure who they are or what’s even going on whenever I talk to them.”

“The three great birds hatched and chosen by the last of the first gods.” Baal speaks up. “Clauneck, Kudaai, and Chemach. The teller of divine fortunes, the smithy of holy blades, and the crowner of gods. The One Who Waits has met all three in his youth, as all gods do. If the smith has drawn a sword out of the Red Crown, they must believe you have the potential to become a god as well.”

“A swordsman must be tempered as well as his blade, however.” Aym says, repeating the smith’s same sentiment. “Enough distractions! I grow tired of talking. Ready yourself for battle or I will ram this sword into your running mouth!”

Ratau readies his sword as Aym starts to circle him. There would be time for questions later. For now, he must train to get better. He still has a long way to go and even with his training here, he’ll likely die on his crusades. He’ll pester the brothers later.

For now, he wants to see if he can get another hit in on Aym. He caught him once, he’s confident he’ll be able to do it again.

“I am finished with him, brother. I will leave you to your studies, I must wash off this blood.”

Ratau couldn’t land a single hit on the cat. In fact, he had an even worse time during this sparring session. The dagger he once held was sturdy enough to block and deflect blows, but also light enough for him to effortlessly maneuver it and protect himself. His sword was much more powerful and had more surface area to block with, but he isn’t used to its length and weight.

The pain is already fading, but he’s been cut to ribbons, his sword arm dismembered as he lies in a growing pool of his own blood. The sword helped him make quick work of the mindless fanatics and beasts in the Darkwood, but against a trained fighter like Aym, its increased power did nothing but slow him down. He watches from the ground as Aym stops beside his brother to retrieve his staff before disappearing into the fog.

Taking up his own staff and rising to his feet, Baal approaches Ratau, using the tip of his staff to try and nudge Ratau’s dismembered arm back into place. “If it makes you feel any better, Aym’s having a lot of fun fighting with you.”

“It doesn’t…” Ratau whines, trying to find the strength to put himself back together. “I want to win.”

“Well I appreciate you taking the hits for me.” Baal says, hiking up his robes so they don’t get stained as he kneels down to place Ratau’s arm back in its socket. “He’s always trying to prove he’s the strongest of the two of us and he gets pretty upset whenever I manage to beat him, always crying about how I cheated or that a move I used is unfair. You’re making the effort to play by his rules, I’m sure he’ll ease up on you so he can eventually have a proper fight, though of course once you learn how to actually defend yourself, he’ll start making excuses again.”

Placing the two severed pieces back together, Ratau’s arm is in one piece again and Baal takes it to help him back to his feet. As painful as all of this is, he thinks it’s doing him some good. He’s learned proper fighting stances with his sword and before he got his arm lopped off he was actually doing a decent job defending from Aym’s blows. Not to mention, he’s all but completely desensitized to the sight of blood after spilling so much.

“Does he make as much of a mess of you as he does of me?” Ratau asks, checking himself over for any remaining injuries that haven’t sealed yet.

“Only when I make him mad.” Baal hums, turning to return to the bone pile he sat on a moment ago. “He was very upset over his eye for what felt like years. Now, we must get you literate. You will not be able to give proper sermons or accurately perform rituals if you cannot read and write. What the Lord wants me to teach you is a very delicate process that took him a very long time to perfect, but if it gets you to learn, then we will start with the resurrection techniques that struck fear into the hearts of the traitors.”

Baal sits himself back down on the bone pile and while it doesn’t look comfortable at all, Ratau does the same. He takes his crown off to fish the grimoire out of it, but pauses as he looks down at the crown's red eye.

“You said there were three great birds who were chosen, right?” Ratau asks Baal. “Clauneck, Kudaai, and a third sibling?”

“Vessel…” Baal lets out a tired sigh.

“Did you meet them too? What’s this third sibling like? Who gave them their duties?”

“The lord and I have already made it clear.” Baal turns to glare down at him. “You have a duty to uphold and you are wasting time with these questions. Give me the book, shut up, and listen.”

Ratau’s expression falls as he reaches into the crown to pull out the grimoire. He thinks these are all pretty valid questions to ask, but evidently they aren’t necessary to know, at least not now. Pulling out the book, he hands it over to Baal who quickly thumbs through the pages before finding his place. Leaning beside him, Ratau does his best to pay attention as the cat reads to him.

He makes a lot more progress this time around, but it’s still slow going. He’s got most of the letters down and knows what sounds they’re supposed to make, and while he can sound out simple words with only a bit of difficulty, The One Who Waits’ writing is verbose and scribbly. Lots of stuff is crossed out, notes and small diagrams line the pages and Ratau can see in real time the long and troublesome process his lord went through to perfect his craft. There are instructions on how to draw up the proper ritual circles, the amount of resources needed to perform the ritual, what he should say to call to his lord and the powers below to assist him with his task. There’s even several variations in the ritual depending on how much of the dead is present for the ritual, ranging from a full freshly deceased corpse, to their severed head, to only a fistful of ash.

Ratau’s heart sank as he struggled to read that excerpt. Even if he learns how to do all of this tonight and gathers everything he needs to perform the ritual, he needs to get his hands on Ratoo. He needs to find out exactly where he went and get him home, no matter what state he’s in.

Baal tries to move on to easier passages to test what little he’s learned, but as he’s searching through the pages, Ratau spots something that he recognizes.

“Hey wait!” Ratau speaks up, reaching out to turn back a couple pages. He quickly finds what he’s looking for and spots a drawn depiction of something he was very familiar with. “Elder Karacyth has a necklace just like this!”

Baal looked irritated to have the lesson interrupted, but surprise flashes in his eyes when he hears that Ratau is familiar with something in the book. Upon closer inspection, the handwriting for this excerpt looks different. It looks a little neater, the letters formed with care instead of the scratchy scribbles the rest of the book is written in.

“Must I explain it for you, or can you read it for yourself?” Baal questions, handing the book over to Ratau so he can get a closer look. While the neater handwriting helps, it’s still a hassle to try and make sense of it.

“...Bones from young…mark w- marked with an… uh…” He scratches his head, some words being far too complex for him. “Bless those who war-wear it with… Does this make people who wear it immortal?!” Ratau gasps once he’s able to make sense of the text. He looks up at Baal who wears a pleased smile on his face.

“Not quite.” He tells him. “It is a charm created by old followers of our lord who tried to extend their lives to pass on his teachings after his banishment. While it was successful in slowing the process in which their bodies naturally aged and weakened, it did not halt the process completely and time eventually brought them to our lord despite their efforts. None have been made for over a century since everyone who knew how to make them are dead, but they’ve been passed on from generation to generation. How old is this elder you speak of?”

“He’s…” Ratau pauses, holding his hands out to count with his fingers as he tries to remember the absurd number the elder once told him. “One hundred and… seventy years? He’s been the village elder for as long as anyone in it could remember. He even told me he remembers his elders telling stories about The One Who Waits before he was betrayed.”

“That’s quite the impressive feat, even with our lord's blessing extending his life.” Baal nods, his eyes going wide with surprise. “He must be very tired after living such a long life, especially under the rule of the traitors. I’m sure he will find this place peaceful when his time inevitably comes.”

“I…” Ratau is about to say something, but the thought of Karacyth passing fills his heart with a sudden pain. He’s reminded of what the elder told him moments before Leshy himself appeared and tore through his home. Karacyth fully believed that he was going to die that day and readied himself to stay behind and slow the followers of the Old Faith down to buy him time to escape with the lamb. The elder had nearly two centuries of collected wisdom and taught Ratau everything he knew, but it’s clear that his mind and body are failing him. Ratau feels tears sting in his eyes, knowing that Karacyth won’t be around forever.

“Are you serious?” Baal snorts beside him. “Death’s chosen reaper on the verge of tears for an old man?” Ratau glares up at him, but Baal just shakes his head. “Maybe it’s something I just can’t understand, given what I am. I have been told stories of tragedy and betrayal from our lord, that while the mortal world is full of treasures I can barely conceive of, there is also endless suffering on every corner of the world. Death is an escape from it all, a final resting place in this cold and quiet desert. A chance to reunite with those they lost, their pain and troubles washed away. Do not weep over the death of your elder. His bones will not ache when they are scattered here and all he will carry with him is his rest are his memories of you and the people he cared about.”

Ratau lowers his head. He knows The One Who Waits will take care of Karacyth, he already told Oy something similar about his father and while it’s assuring to hear Baal confirm those beliefs, it still hurts. Ratoo was somewhere out here, his spirit at peace and waiting for his little brother to join him, but his service is keeping him from death.

Ratau realizes with a shock that it isn’t the fact that Karacyth will die one day that’s filling him with so much grief, it’s the fact that he’s going to have to keep going without him. Aym and Baal look to be his brother’s age, but it’s obvious that they’ve existed for far longer. The One Who Waits already said it could take centuries to dismantle the Old Faith by hand, but no one he knows is going to live that long. He already misses his brother, he’s going to miss Karacyth when he finally goes, but what about everyone else?

Will he serve under The One Who Waits long enough to watch Oy grow into an old man?

Will he serve long enough to watch Oy’s future children grow wrinkles too?!

“Now, back to your lesson.” Baal declares, taking the book back from Ratau and snapping him out of his thoughts. “I suppose I can allow tangents like this if they’re spurred on by the excerpts you’re reading. Perhaps you’ll find something else that catches your eye. Let’s get you through at least one more page, you’re learning remarkably fast.”

Ratau tries to lose himself in the text, desperate to clear his head of the terrifying thoughts that plague it. The big picture stuff was never his thing, it was Karacyth’s…

He should speak to the elder again…

Opening his eyes, Ratau finds himself inside a small tent with sunlight streaming in through the front flap. He tries to make sense of where he is when he remembers what led him to wake up in the afterlife in the first place. He succumbed to blood loss right at the top of the stairs. His flock must have taken him somewhere safe to rest.

Sitting himself up, he finds his left leg wrapped in torn sheets and covered in a poultice made from mashed camellias. It probably wasn’t necessary to heal his leg and could have been saved for someone who needs it, but knowing that Oy was quick to tend to his wounds assures him that if anyone else gets hurt out here that they’ll be taken care of.

He hears a light snoring beside him and turns to find he’s not alone in the tent. Wrapped in bandages and snoozing beneath a heavy looking blanket is Vassago, the fanatic that he rescued. He wasn’t awake to explain who this stranger was or why they looked so deformed and monstrous, but they received care too.

Pushing himself to his feet and undoing the wrappings around his leg, Ratau lifts the flap of the tent up and steps out into the sunlight just as someone ducks down to make their way inside. “OH MY-!” Oy leaps back in a panic, dropping an armful of camellias he was holding. His fear quickly turns to confusion before quickly smoothing out with relief, only to suddenly turn to anger. “Stop scaring me like that!” He barks, kneeling down to pick up the flowers. “I was so sure you were dead this time! You were so pale and there was so much blood! I thought-”

“I’m sorry.” Ratau quickly apologizes, kneeling with him to help pick up the flowers. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I would have waited until I patched myself up before I came home, but I had someone I needed to get to safety. I saw you were already taking care of them.”

“The one in the tent with you?” Oy asks, looking past Ratau to the tent he just came out of. “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them before. They were acting so strange, what’s wrong with them?”

“Vassago was hurt very badly by the bishops of the Old Faith.” Ratau explains, handing the collected bundle of camellias back to Oy. “They might not be very trusting and might act strangely, but give them time. It won’t take long for them to realize they’re safe with us.”

“I’ll keep watching over them then.” Oy promises, bowing his head slightly. “I am thankful for our lord tending to you, but please try and take better care of yourself. All I can do is worry whenever I see you hurt.”

“Hey, I try.” Ratau laughs. “I’d rather not get stabbed and bitten, but times are tough out here. Please tend to Vassago, I have some things I need to tell the rest of the flock.”

“Of course.” Oy nods, bowing his head again before entering the tent. Ratau wanders off towards the fire in the center of the clearing where a few people are gathered around his makeshift shrine when he overhears a prayer from the pup.

”Thank you once again for bringing Ratau back to us. A thousand thanks to you.”

As Ratau walks towards the fire, people take notice of him and more prayers fill his head, grateful to The One Below that he recovered quickly and came home safe. Somewhere from his side, he’s suddenly approached and accosted by the ox Lyrcai.

“There you are!” Lyrcai wraps his large arms around Ratau, crushing him slightly as he’s jostled around. “You scared us all half to death coming back all beaten and bloody! You gotta quit doing that, kid!”

“I’m not a kid!” Ratau grumbles, trying to wrestle out of Lyrcai’s grasp. “I told Ches that I’d be back as soon as possible and I was only gone for a day. You guys gotta stop worrying about me so much.”

“Too bad.” Lyrcai says, letting him go. “You got the big wooden bastard behind me looking over you, but there’s only a handful of us left. We can’t not worry about each other. Though I guess you’re trying to fill out our numbers with the weirdo who dragged you in. What were you even doing out there this time? We still got plenty of food.”

“The One Who Waits commanded me to.” Ratau explains. “Creating a sanctuary for us to hide away from the Old Faith is one thing, but someone needs to get out there and confront them directly. I saved lives last night, and I brought home way more than just food this time.”

“You sound excited to share.” Lyrcai says with a cautious smile. “Should I gather everyone together?”

“Yes please.” Ratau nods. “I’m sure everyone’s worried after seeing me get dragged back home, but I have some things that will lighten everyone’s spirits.”

“Get yourself comfy by the fire then, I’ll gather everyone up.” Lyrcai nods, running off to fetch the other members of the flock. Ratau turns to join the few sitting by the fire, all of whom are happy to see him well. As the flock gathers, he turns and stares up at the wooden statue he carved of his lord. He really should make something a bit nicer. These shrines can hold devotion as he learned when he smashed Leshy’s statue in his temple. The grander he makes this shrine, the more power it should be able to hold.

“Ratau! You’re back!” Gnatri joins him by the fire as Lyrcai rounds up the last of the flock, save for the village elder who remains in his tent. “Oh my gosh, I was so scared that you died. There was so much-”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Ratau quickly apologizes. “I got into a really rough spot, but as I’m about to show all of you, it was worth it!”

“I’m not sure if anything is worth you leaving the safety of our new village and getting yourself hurt.” Ches tries to argue, but she falls silent as Ratau takes off his crown.

“First up, more food!” Ratau shakes the crown around, depositing a decent amount of foraged berries and vegetables onto the dirt in front of him. “And I don’t just have more basic stuff to help us survive.” Digging around, Ratau produces a few items that immediately widen the eyes of everyone by the fire as he pulls out the offerings he looted from the temple, as well as the stolen supplies from zealot camps. “Bread, cheese, meat! We will feast like kings!”

“Holy…” Gnatri stares in awe at the cheese wheel Ratau pulls from the crown. “I don’t think I’ve ever had cheese before…”

“This isn’t even the only wheel I got. Everyone can try some if they want. Just save a piece for me.” He holds out the wheel to Gnatri who looks almost completely overwhelmed with joy and excitement. Before she could even take a bite or pass it around however, Ratau’s already reaching back into his crown. “What else did I grab while I was out? There was… oh!” He pulls out a large swath of fine fabric, its smooth, dark color catching everyone’s eyes.

“Is that silk?!” Ches gasps. “My mother used to have a dress that was sewn with a fabric just like that!”

“I’m not sure it would be wise to sew together work clothes out of stuff this nice, but when the temple is finished, we can maybe make something fancy for when we gather inside. Maybe we can make them like our lord’s.”

“I don’t know if any of us even know how to sew.” Ches sighs, reaching out to run her hand over the soft fabric. “I doubt seamstress Sety made it through the raid.”

“I know how.” Lyrcai speaks up, earning the attention of a lot of followers. “Do you see how big I am? I tore through my stuff all the time and had to learn how to patch them up again. Learned it from Oy’s old man. He probably knows how to stitch too.”

“Then I’ll let you hold onto these.” Ratau says, handing over the bundle of fabric. “I might have found some needles and threads with the rest of this stuff too if I dig around in here long enough, but there’s one more thing I want to share.” Rummaging around until he gets himself a good handful, he pulls his hand out of the crown and reveals to his flock an overflowing pile of golden coins. Oohs, ahhs, and gasps sound from everyone as he shows them not even a fraction of the wealth he stole.

“This is…” Gnatri passes off the cheese wheel she’s been lightly nibbling on to reach out for the coins. Ratau has plenty more where this came from so he lets her have them, dropping most of the coins into her waiting hands while some fall to the ground. Ratau can see the luster of the coins sparkle in Gnatri’s wide eyes. “This is more money than I’ve ever seen in one place before. This is enough money to buy all the berry bread I could ever want!”

“Sadly there aren’t any bakeries out here to buy berry bread at.” Ratau sighs. “I’ve already met plenty of strange people on my ventures outside though. Maybe I’ll find someone who’s willing to help us out here for a little bit of coin.” Satisfied that he’s shown off enough, Ratau returns the crown to his head and looks over everyone. “I know you’re all worried about me and I probably scared all of you when I came back so bloody and worn. It means a lot that after all I lost, after all we lost, we’ve come together a little closer as a result. I know you’re all scared, and for a while you were all scared of my sudden return bearing this crown and worshiping the deity behind me, but there’s no need to fear anymore. You’ve all taken care of me growing up and I was given the duty of caretaker long before I wore this crown. I will take care of all of you, and The One Who Waits will care for us as well, in life and death.”

Everyone smiles at that, moved by his words, but one of the members of the flock actually bows their head, clasping their hands together in silent prayer. Seeing that one follower fall into prayer inspires a couple more to do the same and it isn’t long before everyone is doing it. Some mumble, some whisper, some are completely silent, but Ratau hears it all, their devotion feeding his crown.

They thank The One Who Waits for sparing their lives, for sparing Ratau, for giving him the strength to persevere through all these trials for their sake.

They thank him for keeping his kind heart beating, no matter how many times the monsters of the Old Faith try to make it stop.

It warms his heart to hear that everyone is beyond grateful that he’s still alive and doing what he can to help them, but it also fuels a fire within him. Their prayers feed the crown, the wooden structure behind him radiates with a pulsating energy no one seems to notice. As bountiful as his crusades are, he thinks it’s time he stays here a little while to continue working on his new home. His flock will only make him stronger the happier they are.

“Oh, do you have any fabric a little sturdier than this?” Lyrcai asks, interrupting the prayers to question Ratau. “We don’t got much much space and the two weirdos you brought in are gonna need a place to stay.”

Two weirdos?

“Shrumy made it here?” Ratau asks with surprise, relief, and worry. It was good to hear that he made it to safety, but the thought of having to deal with such a rude individual again upsets him. “Where is he? Is he still here?”

“The grouchy tortoise?” Gnatri asks, just barely able to pull her attention away from the gold coins she’s playing with. “He… He went to go speak with the elder, didn’t he?”

Oh that can’t be good.

“I should go check on Karacyth.” Ratau says, quickly excusing himself from the gathering. Most linger by the fire a little while longer, sharing the foods he spread around in a mini feast as he hurries over to the elder’s tent. Karacyth never left it after what happened at the village and he’s probably worried sick about Ratau since he didn’t swing by to visit him last night, but he’s really hoping that Shrumy isn’t bothering him too much.

Hurrying to the tent, he quickly pulls open the flap and peers inside. “Elder Karacyth?”

Before anyone speaks, Ratau hears the sound of dice clattering against wood.

“Ah! Ratau!” Elder Karacyth looks up at him, a pleasant expression forming on his wrinkled face. “I was worried about you.”

“Ah hell, not you again.” Sitting in front of Karacyth, his large shell taking up most of the space inside the small tent, Shrumy turns to glare at Ratau. “I swear, if you start pushin’ me around again I will smack you.”

“I’m sorry.” Ratau quickly apologizes, trying to diffuse the situation so he doesn’t anger him further or upset Karacyth whose face already sours from Shrumy’s outburst. Before Ratau can say anything, however, his eyes catch movement and he spots the elder reaching for a die from the small pile beside him. In front of him is a small wooden board which already has columns of dice lying on top of it. “You…” Ratau looks up at Shrumy. “You play Knucklebones?!”

“Yeah?” Shrumy nods. “Gotta problem with that?”

“No, I don’t-” Ratau tries to squeeze himself into the tent with them. “I’ve only ever played with Karacyth. No one else had the time or knew how to play.”

“You play Knucklebones?” Shrumy turns his question back on him. “I didn’t expect a weirdo like you to be into dice games.”

“He’s quite good.” Karacyth hums. “Taught him myself, though he still has a lot to learn.” Shrumy turns to look at the elder before looking back at Ratau, his eyes giving the rat an extra look over before he says anything.

“Just what the hell are you then?” He asks Ratau, leaning forward and squinting his eyes. “You got a crown like the other freaks calling the shots around these parts but you just look like some kid.” Ratau glares at him for saying that, but Shrumy just scoffs at his reaction. “See. A pouty little kid who thinks he’s tough shit. If you were one of those other freaks, you would have killed me on the spot for daring to demean a divine being such as themselves. So what gives? Why are you carrying that demonic thing on your head?”

“The Red Crown is a gift bestowed upon me by my lord, The One Who Waits.” Ratau tells the tortoise. “He’s suffered under the Old Faith just like us. Through his crown, he’s granted me the ability to stand up to their injustice and liberate these lands from the Old Faith to usher in the new one.”

“Ah…” Shrumy nods slowly. “So I was a hundred percent right calling you a cultist. You’re just worshiping some different freak instead of the main four.”

“Can you show me at least an ounce of gratitude for saving your life three times in a row!” Ratau barks. He’s had it with this guy. He’s been nothing but nice to him but Shrumy’s just spat it back in his face at every opportunity. “Say at least one nice thing, please! I literally died trying to rescue you.”

“Huh?” Karacyth raises his head at the sound of that. Ratau wishes he could take this outside, but Shrumy looks dug into his spot.

“You look pretty alive to me.” Shrumy says. “If it will get you to stop pissin’ yourself then fine. This place you dumped me at isn’t the worst place I’ve been stuck in. The people here didn’t immediately shake me down or rip my guts out to divine the future. The old man here knows how to play a mean game of Knucklebones and the fact that you know how to play at all puts you in my good books.”

“Oh…” Ratau is taken aback for a moment, not expecting Shrumy to say anything actually nice, even if a lot of the comments are backhanded. “Thank you.”

“Now get lost.” Shrumy scoffs, returning his attention to the board in front of him. “Well, unless you plan on sticking around to play yourself. If my gambling buddies haven’t been brainwashed or disemboweled, getting to claim I beat a crown bearer in Knucklebones will get me plenty of bragging rights.”

Ratau doubts this man would be very fun to play against, but Ratau stays put. He can’t pass up on the opportunity to humble this jackass. He also came here to check on the occupant of this tent. Looking over at the elder, he rolls his die to make his move, but once he’s done, he turns his attention towards the young rat.

“You saved this man, Ratau?” He asks, looking over at the tortoise.

“He doesn’t appreciate it, but yes.” Ratau nods. “Him and another one who’s being treated by Oy. He was captured by the same cultists who attacked our village. They were going to sacrifice him to Leshy, but I rescued him before they could kill him.”

“I coulda taken them myself.” Shrumy comments.

“I’m sure you could, Shrumy.” Karacyth chuckles. “I’m sure your fists are as hard as your shell, and your head.” Shrumy scoffs at that, leading Karacyth to let out another laugh. Ratau can’t help but chuckle too. Karacyth knew how to make backhanded jabs at this hard headed turd too. Karacyth’s smile quickly fades as he returns his attention to Ratau though. “Oy told me that you came home hurt. Judging from your comment earlier, it sounds like you were more than just injured.”

“I was…” Ratau doesn’t want to worry the old man, but he can’t lie to him either. “I nearly lost my leg and bled out on the way back home. I met the same god who raided our village and only barely managed to get out with another injured friend.” Karacyth’s expression drops, pure worry and fear being etched onto his face. Ratau wants to say something to ease his worries, to show him the bounty he brought home, to introduce him to the other person he rescued, but to his surprise, Shrumy is the one who speaks up.

“The kid’s no pushover.” Shrumy tells the elder. “I couldn’t see much while I was tied down and I doubt he has any idea what kind of power he’s playing with, but he willingly threw himself against twelve armed men for my sake and stayed behind when that big bushy bastard came looking. I don’t know if he’s brave, stupid, or completely drunk on power, but the fact that he’s here at all means that whatever freaky thing gave him that crown is backing him up.”

“Thank you.” Ratau tells Shrumy for helping ease Karacyth’s worries. “The One Who Waits is a kind deity who-”

“Hey, don’t start preaching at me!” Shrumy barks. “I’m just stating the obvious. I already told you that I’m not gonna start wearing black robes and dancing around a shrine singing kumbaya. ‘Sides, I can barely tell what your god is even supposed to look like with that big hunk a shit outside. The other guy’s statue is better.”

“I made it like two days ago.” Ratau tries to argue. “I’m used to whittling small blocks of wood with a knife. It’s hard to carve out chains in a giant tree using a dagger.”

“And so close to the fire too.” Shrumy shakes his head. “One strong wind in the right direction and your god goes up in flames. The foundations of what I can only assume is supposed to be your temple are shoddy too. A decent sized storm will take that down as well. Also, you’re building a temple while you have everyone sleeping in tents?! Is that where your priorities lie?”

“The temple doubles as a shelter!” Ratau says, not appreciating how thoroughly Shrumy is bad mouthing this place. “We’ve only been here for a little over a week. There used to be hundreds of us in our old village but we’re down to only a little more than a dozen. Cut us some slack.”

“Maybe this is why you went out of your way to grab me.” Shrumy says. “You needed someone who knew a thing or two about construction.”

That gets Ratau to pause. “Wait, you do?”

“A mason, craftsman, smith, architect, the works.” Shrumy nods. “Why do you think I got all this shit on my back? I’m a busy man, though it’s hard to find work these days when everyone is either a throat slitting lunatic or is so scared of said lunatics that they run off everyone who isn’t already a part of their community. I have a few connections with other working men such as myself, but even they’re steering clear of the Darkwood. They need a LOT of gold if they want to even consider working and honestly I should have done the same.”

“Would…” Ratau leans back to look at the various tools on Shrumy’s shell. “Would you be willing to help us build this place up with your expertise?”

“Depends.” Shrumy takes a break from his game to turn and face Ratau. “What’s in it for me?”

“Um…” Ratau takes his crown off to reach inside of it. “A welcoming community to stay at and feel accepted. Food and a safe place to rest for your troubles and…” Finding what he’s looking for, Ratau pulls out a fistful of gold coins from the crown. “Fair payment for your services.” Ratau finishes, holding out the coins to the tortoise.

Shrumy stares at the gold coins in Ratau’s hand for a moment before slowly raising his head to face him. “You know what? I think I got you all wrong. You ain’t that bad, kid.” Ratau shoots him another glare and he laughs. “Alright, fine. Ratau, you got yourself a new friend. Don’t confuse me for one of your flock though. I’ll help build your temples and shrines, but don’t expect me to worship whatever creepy bastard gave you that crown.”

“Your hard work is all I’ll ask from you.” Ratau assures him. “The One Who Waits will watch over you too if you join us in prayer though.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Shrumy shakes his head. “Anyways, quiet down so I can finish my game here.”

Dice hit the small wooden board between the two older men. Ratau would rather spend his time away from Shrumy than deal with his rudeness any longer so he stands up to leave. Before he can go though, his elder speaks up.

“Ratau…” Ratau pauses, tent flap held up as he’s halfway outside. “While this new friend of ours can certainly be more respectful about it, he is rightfully concerned about where you draw your power from. You are doing good work and are saving lives and I’m proud of that, but please, don’t be content knowing that this god is watching over you. Watch over yourself too. Stay true to your beliefs, not his.”

“Don’t worry, Karacyth.” Ratau assures the elder. “I’ll be alright. The One Who Waits and I share a common goal. I know a monster when I see one, there’s no reason not to trust The One Below.”

The elder’s face drops for a moment, but it isn’t long before a smile forms on it again. “Stay safe Ratau. Please, for all of our sakes, don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger.” Giving the elder one more affirming nod, Ratau steps out of the tent, looking off towards the wooden shrine he’s erected.

It could probably use a bit more work…

Despite being a tortoise, Shrumy worked remarkably fast in building the necessary infrastructure the community needed.

Over the next several days, Shrumy would boss around Lyrcai and the other able bodied workers to redo the foundations of their buildings and start work on other necessary projects. A well is dug near the center of the clearing so they don’t have to venture out into the woods for clean water, a very basic outhouse is quickly erected to try and mitigate the smell and uncleanliness of the designated corner, and a proper fire pit is dug up further away from the wooden shrine to make sure nothing burns down.

His work is greatly appreciated by everyone in the community, but almost everyone could agree that he was a jackass.

Vassago has also recovered and has been formally introduced to the flock. Everyone’s a little weirded out by their mutated appearance and their overzealous nature, but they treated everyone with kindness and respect, unlike the tortoise. While Shrumy didn’t want anything to do with The One Who Waits or the New Faith Ratau was building, Vassago ate it up immediately. Their skin was still covered in sores and blisters making them unfit for work, but they knelt before the wooden shrine of their new lord constantly, thanking their new lord for saving them and praying for their continued protection.

Ratau thought that they were going a little overboard with it. It wasn’t like their life depended on their constant prayers to stave off the wrath of their angry old gods. It wasn’t hurting anyone though, in fact, it was making Ratau stronger. Vassago alone was a constant source of prayer and power for the Red Crown and any time someone had free time and spotted them knelt before the wooden shrine of The One Who Waits, some would kneel beside them and join them in prayer.

During the night while he had free time, He would continue to chip away at the statue, shaving off imperfections and carving in more detail. He would also spend some time by the firelight trying to read from his lord’s grimoire. He was still learning and there wasn’t anyone in his flock who could correct him if he got something wrong, but rereading through old passages and skimming through the pages until he found Baal’s much neater handwriting, he got some good practice in and slowly built up his confidence in reading.

After a week of hard work, the temple is finished.

“There you are oh dark lord or whatever the hell you want people to call you.” Shrumy announces, standing beside Ratau as he marvels at the building. “It ain’t fancy, it’s little more than a barn with a raised platform for you to spout whatever nonsense your god wants you to spout from, but it’ll hold in the rain, wind, and snow.”

“It’s perfect!” Ratau tells him, more than happy with how it turned out. “This is better than perfect! This is nicer than anything we had back at the old village.”

“Well now you’re just being an ass kisser.” Shrumy scoffs. “It ain’t gonna get me to go in there to listen to you yap.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to.” Ratau sighs, looking up at the tortoise. “So I guess you’re going to be leaving us now? Your job’s done and you clearly don’t like us. Is this goodbye?”

“When the hell did I say I didn’t like you folks?” Shrumy asks, catching Ratau off guard. “For a bunch of crazies living in tents in the middle of the woods, you’ve been the most hospitable people I’ve met out here in years. Do you know how nice it’s been to have people to talk to and play dice with without having to worry about one of them trying to eat me or split me open? I’ll have to hit the trail again eventually, gotta spend all the coins you gave me somewhere, but I could get used to this place if y’all put in a bit more work or keep throwing money at me to do it for you.”

“I’m…” Ratau takes a moment to think about it, but eventually nods his head. “I’m glad you feel that way. You’re more than welcome to stay or leave at your leisure. You’ve helped build so much for us, I’m sure The One Who Waits will watch out for you on the trail whenever you decide to part ways.”

“Great…” Shrumy sighs, clearly not excited to hear that he’s being watched by the three eyed god.

“And as much of an ass as you are, Karacyth enjoys the company and the games.” Ratau says, giving the tortoise a smile. “Losing our old village has been hard on all of us, but him especially. He was around long enough to see all of us as little kids. He saw us all as his own and… lost almost every single one of them. I have to take care of everyone here now, not just him, so thank you for helping him out.”

Shrumy glances down at him and gives him a nod. “Don’t mention it, Ratau.” He says with a grin. “You’re a good guy. Not many folks like you around these days. If Karacyth really did raise you like his own he did a damn fine job. He’s right to worry about you and this whole cult business though. I doubt a little squirt like you would have been able to do much for me without that hellish thing on your head, but if I can give you any advice, ditch that thing as soon as you can. Every single one of these creepy bastards are out for themselves. As soon as you aren’t useful to this guy, you’re gonna get cut out, so drop out while you still can.”

“The One Who Waits is different.” Ratau insists. “I have my full faith in him. He’s going to save us.”

The smile quickly drops from Shrumy’s face and he lets out a sigh. “Whatever you say, kid.” He turns to look around. “I think I’ll be sticking around for a night or two more unless you got more coin and a project in mind for me. After that, I guess I’ll be lookin’ for business elsewhere till the next time I happen by this place. Anyways, I gotta sit down. This shell is absolute hell on my back and knees sometimes.”

Shrumy wanders off, making his way to the fire where a couple other people sit to get off his feet. Ratau watches him go, but can’t help but feel frustrated. For just a little while, Shrumy stopped calling him a kid. He was still an ass, but for just a moment, he treated him with actual respect, only for it all to go away in an instant. Was that little bit of niceness a break in Shrumy’s hard exterior that he quickly closed up, or did Ratau do something that shriveled up that respect?

He mentioned his lord again. He’s probably just sick of hearing about The One Who Waits.

Leaving Shrumy to his business, Ratau steps inside of the newly built temple. He hopes that maybe he can end things off on a good note before Shrumy leaves, but for now, he’s got work to do. Sitting himself up on the stand and taking his crown off, he stares down at it for a moment.

“We’ll have to go out on another crusade soon.” He speaks to the crown. The rest of the flock don’t need to know about the bloody details of what happens outside of this little sanctuary, but it’s hard to keep all of the things he’s seen and done out there to himself. The crown is a constant companion with him though, one who’s seen and experienced everything he has and likely all the suffering its original bearer survived. “You think you can get me through a whole trip without dying?”

The crown nods in his hands. It’s gotten fat off the devotion granted by his followers, especially Vassago. Ratau can’t wait to see just how much power is behind it now. The beasts and fanatics should hopefully be easy pickings now, but Ratau’s afraid of what Leshy and the other bishops might do now that they’re aware that someone bears the crown of their exiled brother.

“We’ll get out there again soon.” Ratau promises, returning the crown to his head. “We still have to find my brother.”

“...Or whatever’s left of him.”

Chapter Text

Ratau does not step through the portal at the old shrine when he ventures out on his next crusade. Instead, he ventures south from the clearing and into the woods, making his way back to the ruins of the old village.

Things are going well back home. Shrumy has since gone his separate ways and despite being a jackass to everyone within the flock, everyone gathered to say goodbye and thanked him for the invaluable work he did for the community. Everyone was living more comfortably now, so much so that Karacyth actually found the strength to leave his small tent to see how the rest of the flock was doing himself. He’s now holed up in the temple where he feels much more safe and comfortable. After Shrumy left with his board, the elder missed the sound of dice hitting wood and the floors of the temple worked just fine as a playing space.

Everyone is doing well, there’s still plenty of food to go around, but Ratau is growing impatient. He wants to see his brother again, he’s confident he has the means to bring him back, he just needs to find a trace of his brother to bring back home with him.

The portal at the old shrine would take him to a random location within the Darkwood. It was perfect for giving him fresh hunting grounds to scavenge and search for temples to raid, but he has a very specific target in mind. His friends were taken to the clearing from the old village. If his brother was taken away, he couldn’t have gone too far from home. He needs to go back to where this all started and look for signs of where he could have been taken.

If things work out and he’s able to bring Ratoo back, maybe he should gather the remains of the others too. Maybe Oy would… No, there’s far too many people he’d have to bring back. He already feels a little selfish for thinking only of his brother, but from what he understands of the ritual, it’s a taxing and expensive one to perform. Ratoo was the guardian of the village who everyone counted on. The flock would benefit greatly to have him back watching over them.

He can’t wait to talk to him again…

The walk back to his old home shouldn’t take long. He’s traveled this path once before and he’s nowhere near as slow or scared this time around. With how early he left for this trip, he should hopefully get there by midday and have plenty of sunlight to search for clues for his brother’s whereabouts.

Halfway through the trip, however, Ratau spots the telltale sign of the Fortune Teller. Stars twinkle beneath the tree branches, beckoning him towards a nearby clearing to have his fate read out to him. He finds his feet moving towards the clearing before he even makes the conscious decision to visit Clauneck.

Stepping into the clearing, he comes face to face with the red feathered owl. “Welcome back, promised liberator. The cards tell me you are on a very important mission today.”

“I am.” Ratau nods, sitting himself down in front of the owl and the small blanket where two cards rest for him to pick from. He still didn’t fully understand who or what Clauneck even was, but he knows he’s safe with him. “I’m searching for my brother. He’s likely long dead, but my lord tells me he has the power to bring him back… Oh, I met your brother too!”

“Ah yes, he told me.” Clauneck nods. “It has been some time since we crossed paths. The bishops seldom require our services anymore, we both appreciate your patronage.”

“And I appreciate the help you give me, even if you’re both very creepy about it.” Ratau says, earning a chuckle out of the bird as he reaches for the cards. He pauses before he can touch them. “Before you disappear on me after I draw, I have a quick question.”

“I hope to provide you with a quick answer.” Clauneck replies with a smile.

“Baal told me that beside you and your brother Kudaai, you have a sister.” Ratau says. “Am I going to end up bumping into her eventually? What kind of gifts is she going to give me?”

“Ah… Sister Chemach.” Clauneck lets out a sad sigh. “I cannot say for sure if your fates will cross. Madness consumed her mind long ago when our master was slain and she was stripped of her status as crowner of the gods. If you do ever meet, I am unsure if she would have anything to give. Even if she still held her original position, you already bear a crown.”

“Hmm…” That brings up a lot of extra questions, but they’re questions Ratau decides to save for later. He wants to know what happened to whoever this master is and if they have anything to do with these old gods he keeps hearing about, but he wants his brother back more. Daylight is burning, he needs to keep moving.

Reaching forward, he draws the card on his left. Flipping it over, he finds a telescope painted on his card. Clauneck coos at the sight of it. “It appears the cards are eager to help you in your search.” He says with a pleasant tone. “I am sure you will find what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you.” Ratau smiles with relief, more than grateful for the cards’ help. His crown hops off his head and flips over in the air for him to deposit the card. Tossing the card into its abyss, he returns the crown to his head and starts to stand himself up, but he’s a little surprised to find that Clauneck is still here. “Uh…” Clauneck raises his head to look at him. “You’re not gonna disappear on me?”

“I quite like this spot.” He says with a smile. “It is a lot of work to pack my things. I would like to rest a while before I move again.”

“Are you messing with me?” Ratau asks. The fortune teller doesn’t pack anything, he just vanishes in an instant.

Clauneck’s smile widens. “Beings such as us like to have fun too.”

Ratau snorts, pushing to his feet. “I guess so. Well, thank you for-” Ratau looked away from the fortune teller for just a second to get to his feet and in that second, Clauneck vanished. A slight breeze blows through the clearing and a chuckle is carried through the air with the wind. “Thank you!” Ratau calls out into the air in case Clauneck is still listening. The wind settles and with his newly obtained blessing, Ratau continues his journey back to the old village.

Once he’s out of the clearing though, he reaches up for his crown to ask it a question. “Is it possible for you to make me magically disappear without a trace?” He asks it. “It could be fun freaking people out with that little trick.” The crown shakes itself side to side in his hands. That’s a no. “Aw…” Ratau returns the crown to his head. “I’m sure you have some tricks of your own we can pull on people, but we really should get moving. Fortune favors us, we’re gonna bring Ratoo back home.”

Marching through the thicket with reinforced resolve, Ratau quickens his pace, desperate to save his brother.

Ratau felt numb as he walked through what remained of his village.

In the weeks since he last saw this place, the already destroyed remnants of the village have worn down even more. Moss crawls up the foundations that are still standing as nature tries to reclaim the clearing and the whole place reeks of death as the bodies that were left abandoned in the grass start to decay and return to the earth.

Even with all the blood he’s shed, even with all the carnage he’s witnessed and caused, the sight of his destroyed home still leaves him mortified. He still couldn’t fathom how creatures as cruel and merciless as the bishops could exist, how anyone could live with themselves after causing so much harm. He wanted it to fuel him, to enrage him and drive him to fight harder, but it just makes him feel sick combing through his old home which he still knows like the back of his hand.

He’s already searched the place for anything worth taking and he’s already identified the dead. The only thing he’s looking for now is some kind of sign that might lead him to his brother. Maybe there’s still zealots patrolling the place looking for survivors, maybe one of his friends that weren’t in his flock or among the dead circled back around here and was hiding out? Maybe, though he seriously doubts it, maybe Ratoo could have survived and left directions somewhere to lead him to where he’s hiding?

So many maybes. There aren’t many places to look, everything is either ash, rubble, or rot, but just as Ratau’s about to give up hope and start picking directions at random to search through, he spots something. He circles around the edge of the village, looking for any signs of where the zealots could have retreated after the raid, and discarded in the dirt next to a nearby bush is a broken, bloodied spear.

When Ratau first came back to his home in flames, he was attacked while he was too stunned to move. This very spear pierced the throat of his attacker, thrown by his brother. Did someone else take up the spear to keep fighting? Did Ratoo go back for it to try and defend the village?

It’s the only lead he has right now, its bloodied tip pointing deep into the woods. With plenty of daylight left, Ratau throws himself back into the thicket. He’s gotta be getting close.

“Must we camp so close to them? Even the flies are being driven off by the smell.”

Night had fallen when Ratau finally found what he was looking for. In the dark of the night, he spotted firelight through the trees and slowly crept towards it, hiding himself beneath the bushes as he came across a small encampment. Three hooded figures sit by a small fire, their weapons lying on the ground beside the large tent at the other edge of the clearing. Ratau can smell the scent of death in the air and amongst the belongings of the zealots Ratau can spot blood stained rope and chains.

These guys definitely took people from the village, but do they have Ratoo?

“We were told to watch over the sacrificial grounds.” The largest of the three zealots by the fire tells the one who was complaining about the smell. “Orders from Lord Leshy himself. We must obey.”

“But why though?” The other of the two smaller zealots asks. “The ritual’s done, everything of value was taken. Why are we just sitting around watching them rot?”

“Do you question Lord Leshy?!” The large zealot questions, clenching their fists.

“No no no! Of course not!” The smaller one says in a panic. “It’s just… I want to serve him better! Surely Lord Leshy would appreciate it if we were hunting heretics or finding him more sacrifices. I want to serve my lord, not sit around here!”

“Your lord isn’t worth serving.”

The three zealots bristle as Ratau steps out into the clearing, arms crossed beneath his fleece as he stares them all down with his best menacing glare. As awful as these cultists are, Vassago was proof that there were actual people underneath these dark hoods, people who might be looking for a way out beneath their masters’ thumb. Ratau stands before them, unarmed but wearing the Red Crown, proof that there are powers that oppose the tyrannical rule of the Old Faith.

The two smaller zealots sit petrified, unsure of what to do, but the largest of the three quickly rises to their feet and charges him. “You dare tread on holy ground! I’ll strap you to the slab myself an-”

Dashing forward to meet the towering zealot halfway, the crown leaves Ratau’s head and flies to his hand as he throws it upward. His victim might have only caught the briefest glance of silver before a heavy blade cuts across his neck and severs his head from his shoulders. Ratau slides beneath the now headless zealot and stops behind him, hearing his kill fall forward and crash into the ground. He rises to his feet, pointing his bloodied sword towards the remaining two zealots.

“If you do not wish to be thrown before him, run for your lives and forsake your old gods to spread word of The One Who Waits! He will claim your soul himself in time, but if you are foolish and reach for your blades, I will personally introduce you to him.”

Looking between each other and the now motionless giant behind Ratau, both zealots rise at the same time and flee for the woods, abandoning their camp and their weapons. Flicking his blade clean, Ratau returns his crown to his head, satisfied that he was able to convince some of them to run. Maybe they’ll turn a new leaf, maybe they’ll try and come back with reinforcements. The chance that they could maybe turn themselves around is enough for him though, and even if they don’t, they will tell of what happened here and spread word of the Red Crown’s power.

Either way, the camp is clear and he’s free to proceed.

He ignores the fire and the camp, not bothering to check for treasure or resources. Instead, he follows the smell and the clear signs of a struggle on a small path connected to the clearing. He tries to brace himself for what he’s about to find. He knows it’s going to be bad, he knows it’s going to hurt, but he pushes forward until he comes across a grisly sight just like the one he found at the base of the crown’s statue.

Several bodies litter the ground, their chests torn open and their innards pulled free to be given as offerings to the bishops. They’ve been here for weeks, and while their bodies are disfigured and rotting, he’s still able to identify each and every one. Veatik, Gnatri’s lover lies face down in the dirt. Jaylee, one of the haulers that used to assist the lumberjack Ratau worked with is slumped up against a tree. Half of the missing people who were unaccounted for are now confirmed dead in front of him, including the one person he was desperate and dreading to find.

Still tied down to the stone slab cold and lifeless is Ratoo, his chest torn open and hollowed out.

Ratau shudders at the sight, struggling to take a breath and feeling his heart threaten to tear in two. This was exactly what he was looking for and expecting, but to actually see it in front of him nearly overwhelms him with grief. He must have been so scared, he must have been in so much pain. Half of his ear is torn off, one eye stares off at nothing while the other half of his face is missing an eye entirely, a cold black socket peering into his empty skull.

“Hey, Ratoo…” Ratau chokes out, tears blurring his vision and sparing him from seeing the grisly details of his brother’s death. “It’s gonna be ok.” He tries to assure the corpse as he approaches him, reaching out to untie the ropes still holding him to the sacrificial slab. “I’m gonna bring you back. We’re gonna play some games with Karacyth, I’ll show you the temple, you can tell me all about what your time with our lord was like. I just need to get you home.”

Letting the ropes fall, Ratau tries to reach his arms around his brother and drag him off the cold stone. Unfortunately for him, even though quite a bit has been taken from him, Ratoo is still dead weight. Halfway off the slab, gravity takes hold and Ratau falls backwards with his brother landing almost right on top of him with a crunch and a thump as his rotting corpse hits the ground hard.

“Oh sh… I’m sorry!” Ratau quickly apologizes, pulling his legs out from beneath his brother’s body to get back to his feet. “I doubt you even felt that, but…” He kneels down and tries to lift up his brother’s arms, but he struggles to drag him around, even with his increased strength. Was he really going to have to drag his older brother through the woods all night to get him back home?

He… He supposes he doesn’t necessarily need all of him… No. Things will be easier on him for a multitude of reasons if he just tries to get Ratoo home in one piece. As long as no one gives him any trouble on the way back, he’ll…

All at once, several horrible feelings assail Ratau.

A harsh wind and a cold chill bites at the air. His gut sinks and biles rises up his throat. His mind fogs up and his instincts scream at him to run.

Something terrible is approaching.

Multiple somethings…

Ratau stares down at his brother in a panic. There’s no way he’s going to be able to get away from a bishop with Ratoo in tow, but he can’t leave him here. He can’t lose his brother again, he needs to bring him back home.

With several, powerful and terrifying beings rapidly approaching him, Ratau drops his brother and arms himself with his sword. Muttering out a quick apology, he brings his blade down against his brother’s neck, chopping his head off from the rest of his body before quickly kneeling down and grabbing hold of it, stuffing it into the crown’s void for safe keeping.

The second the crown returns to his head, they’re upon him.

His muscles lock up, his throat completely closes and he feels an intense pressure crush down on him from every angle. He struggles to stay on his feet, trying to call on the power of his crown to try and break out of whatever curse was cast upon him, but his crown was powerless against the combined strength of the four who loom over him now.

They tower over him, each one bigger than the last, their mere presence nearly driving Ratau to his knees. He was going to die here, there was no escaping it, but he still tries to hold his head high to meet the eyes of the monsters who betrayed his lord.

“This is the one! The undying fool!” The sharp hiss of Leshy’s voice is unmistakable as he shouts to his older siblings. “I can smell that bastard on him!”

“The crown…” A new voice falls over Ratau, draining the strength in his legs. It sounds pained and gurgled and its owner chokes on the breath they take as they try to speak again. “His crown…”

“How?! HOW?!” Another voice cries out, shrill and whiny. “He was banished! The prophecies never spoke of a rat taking the crown! Shamura, did you misread your vision?!”

“Five becomes four becomes three becomes-”

“Shamura please!” The whiny god interrupts a haunting whisper that pierces right into his mind through the noise. “Is the prophecy wrong?! Have we not done enough to save ourselves?!”

“The lamb comes to raze… End of days… End of days…”

“Rambling, mumbling fool…” Leshy hisses as his sibling whispers seemingly to no one at all. “Something must have gone wrong! Shamura must have been led astray! That bastard cat must have scrambled their brains more than we-”

“Silence!” A shout loud enough to rattle Ratau’s bones rips through the forest, shutting everyone else up as one of the bishops leans forward, blood and ichor dribbling past their lips as they try to speak. “This runt is… nothing.” They sneer, gulping down and choking on blood in the middle of their sentence. Ratau can see soaked bandages around their neck. “Little rat… barely a threat… sniveling child…”

“I’m not…” Ratau tries to raise his head to face the bishops, feeling pain shoot down his spine for trying to fight back against the overpowering pressure holding him down. “I’m not a kid!” He bellows, staring up at the monstrous gods in front of him, trying to will his sword to his hands but even the crown is paralyzed on his head.

“It speaks!” A shrill cry escapes from what Ratau can now see is a colossal squid, tentacles writhing around in shock and panic. “What did it say?! What did it say?!” Red bandages and torn flesh dangle from the side of his head. Were those his ears?

“The fool only knows one joke!” Leshy spats bearing his teeth from behind the leaves on his head. “This pathetic little thing is to end us all? No. Perhaps I was too hasty to doubt Shamura’s prophecy.”

“Brother is… desperate…” Now able to see more than the bloodied bandage around her throat, Ratau stares up at four, bulbous eyes of a large frog. She looks unimpressed. “Giving his crown to… children…” She shakes her head. “Pathetic…”

“B-but the crown!” The squid cries. “Leshy, you said you killed this thing, right?! If it’s still here then… What if he comes back next?!”

“Five becomes four becomes three…” Ratau feels a chill run through him as more whispers enter his mind. He turns to stare up at the largest of the four bishops, a giant spider with venomous fangs hanging out their mouth and distant looking black eyes. “This is not the harbinger… I saw it clearly, his crown resting upon a head of wool. The sacrificial lamb come to raze. End of days… end of days…”

“So are we safe?” The squid asks their siblings, still staring down at Ratau with fear. “The prophecy still holds true?”

“This is nothing more than our brother’s futile attempts at circumventing the prophecy!” Leshy snickers. “The lambs’ numbers dwindle, his chances for escape dying with them. He’s trying to pawn off the crown to any little runt he can convince to join him in the hopes that it will work.”

“It won’t…” The frog chuckles, though it’s clear from her expression that the action is painful. “The rat will die… as will the lambs…”

“No!” Ratau shouts again, feeling his body buckle under the power of the bishops, but he forces himself to stand strong against their strength. “I won’t allow it!” He hisses through clenched teeth. “I won’t let you hurt another soul!” His threats only garner a snort out of Leshy.

“Hey, that’s a new one!” He says with a smile. “You do have some good jokes in you!”

Ratau feels rage boil his guts as red overtakes his vision. “I won’t let you!” He growls, forcing his legs to move and taking a single step forward. Through his blurring vision, he sees Leshy’s smile fade as the bishops all lean back in concern when he’s able to move. “You won’t hurt another lamb as long as I live! I’ll kill you! I’ll cut you all down for what you did to-”

In a blur of movement that Ratau wouldn’t have been able to react to even if he was fully in control of his body, an appendage suddenly shoots out from beneath the spider’s dark and gold robes. In the blink of an eye, the whispering, confused looking spider ends his life by stabbing one of their many legs through his chest, piercing his heart and shattering his ribs.

It’s all over in less than a second. Ratau doesn’t even feel pain as he suddenly finds himself in the afterlife, his anger and fervor fizzling out once he realizes that the bishops are gone. Neither of the cats are here to help him up. His death was so sudden, they probably didn’t even realize he died.

Rage still burns in his crushed chest, however. Forcing himself up to his feet before he’s properly healed, he makes his way through the fog of the afterlife, following the sounds of the rattling chains of his lord.

The fog parts, the two brother’s remain seated by the lord, heads bowed in reverence. The One Who Waits trembles in place, his chains rattling with the movement. Behind the thin veil over his face, Ratau can see fury, anguish, and pain.

Ratau feels just the same. The bishops thought their brother was desperate, that he was trying to circumvent the prophecy, but they were kindred spirits, of course he was chosen to be the lord’s vessel. Though, his rage did not match his lord’s… yet.

“Who are the other three?” Ratau asks his lord, taking a knee as a sign of respect. “I am familiar enough with Leshy and the terrible things he’s done, but what about the others? What crimes have they committed? What will you have me do to them when I grow strong enough to face them.”

The One Who Waits continues to tremble, sucking in haggard breaths to try and calm himself down enough to speak clearly. The sheer, seething hatred he has for his siblings was practically radiating off of him. Eventually, the god’s nerves settle. When he speaks, his voice is curt and firm.

“I already told you of Leshy, the youngest who stood by and watched as I called for help, eventually joining my siblings in banishing me. For his crimes, I clawed out his eyes.” Even repeating this story for Ratau, The One Who Waits clenches his fists, the very same claws he blinded Leshy with digging into his palms. “The sniveling coward Kallamar was the second oldest of the five of us. While the rest of us went to carve our own paths and enforce our own rule over our domains, he was always plagued by anxiety and indecision. Always crying to Shamura over whether what he was doing was right or wrong, terrified of making even a single mistake of his own. He had his chance when I was bound. Even when witnessing the clear injustice committed against me, even when I begged him for help, he would not hear me and he joined the other’s in banishing me. For that, I took his ears. He would not listen to reason, he didn’t need them. I hope he spends his final days jumping at every shadow, never hearing you coming before you plunge a knife in his back.”

Ratau makes a mental note of that. All of the bishops seemed to have an injury, perhaps he could take advantage of them. He listens intently as his lord’s rage grows and he continues his tale.

“Heket, my sister. While Leshy was obnoxious and Kallamar constantly whined, Heket’s voice was firm and booming. Her word was law in Annura, and while she was not our leader, it was impossible not to heed her words when she spoke. She did not mince words and they could be blunt as a mace, which is why it hurt all the more when she shouted at me while I was in chains. As she stomped and punched me on the ground, she spat lies that hurt far more than any blade. She claimed she never loved me, that she’d be glad that I was gone, that none of them would miss me. I could not stand to hear it. Desperate to silence her, I bit down on her throat and tore it free. She now sits silent, her commanding presence strangled with every choking breath she attempts to take. I do not care if she wastes her breath trying to beg when her time comes. I will only be satisfied when she draws her last. As for Shamura…”

The One Who Waits falls silent, his rage reaching a boiling point. His eyes go wild, he tugs on his chains hard enough for them to dig into his flesh. The two cat brother’s break their stoic facade to glance up at him with concern. Their lord practically froths at the mouth with pure, livid rage.

“I trusted them…” He hisses, his words being forced through clenched teeth. “They were the one to push me to improve myself, to further explore my domain and discover my true power. They were the oldest and wisest of us, the one who oversaw our crownings, the one who ensured that we alone would rule this world. I trusted them and they…”

His breath hitches in his chest and for a brief moment, Ratau was terrified that he might actually see his lord cry. The One Who Waits bites his tongue, tugs at his chains, digs his claws into his own skin. Despite what he believes is an attempt to hide it behind pain, Ratau can tell his lord is heartbroken.

“They were the one who carried the chains…” He eventually mutters, his voice coming out as a croak. “They ordered the others to attack me, to hold me down as they banished me here. Everyone took their word over mine, their jealousy and fear spreading to the rest of my siblings. While the others laughed, screamed, kicked and punched, they just stood there, tightening the chains, refusing to even look at me. Before I was fully restricted, I managed to grab one of the loose chains and I fully intended to splatter their brains all over my temple wall. They survived the attempt on their life and left me to rot and bleed here, but I stole the mind that was so precious to them, the mind that concocted this betrayal. They’re now nothing but a mumbling fool, the prophecies they were able to parse so easily now haunting them, terrorizing them with visions of their destruction.”

The One Who Waits still trembles, infuriated and betrayed by the actions of their older sibling. Ratau feels angry too, clenching his fists. All four of them are monsters. Selfish, greedy, cowardly, traitorous monsters. The brothers beside the lord also struggle to maintain their composure. They’ve likely heard this story countless times, but it still angers them.

They both stare at Ratau. The One Who Waits is forever banished here, the brothers sworn to remain by his side for eternity. Ratau is his chosen vessel, his only connection to the outside world, his blade to extract his revenge. A broken chain already lies in the sand, Ratau will make sure more are cut soon to ease his lord’s suffering.

“I will begin my crusades again soon.” Ratau promises, rising back to his feet. “The flock’s home is in a good state now, all that’s left for me to do is to venture out into the Darkwood to gather more resources, rescue more people, and slay your enemies. Though… There’s one thing I have to do before I depart again.”

“I saw…” The One Who Waits nods, his body still tense but his voice now clear of emotion. “Take caution in performing this ritual. It is your first, and it is one that took me years to master. I trust you understand the risks and have read the grimoire thoroughly.” Ratau nods his head. This was his only shot at bringing Ratoo back, he would not mess this up. “Gather your flock in the temple and prepare for the ritual.” The One Who Waits orders, lifting his hands as he prepares to send his vessel off. “Let everyone witness the miracle that put me in chains.”

“Oh?!” Stepping into the temple, Gnatri is startled to find Ratau on his hands and knees, dragging his bloodied palm against the wooden floors. “Ratau?! What are you doing?!”

“Hi Gnatri.” Ratau stops what he’s doing for a moment, pushing to his feet and taking a step back to look over the pentagram he’s drawn on the floor. “Just finishing up some special preparations for the meeting I want to do tonight. Please watch where you step. I need this all to dry up before everyone comes inside.”

“Um… Ok…” Gnatri nods her head, making her way to the walls of the temple to avoid the bloody runes Ratau’s painted. “I was just coming over to say that Ches found something upsetting at the outskirts of the village.”

“Oh?!” Ratau quickly turns to face her. He can’t have any interruptions tonight. If something’s wrong, he needs to fix it now.

“She says a bunch of earth has been dug up at the forest's edge.” Gnatri informs him. “It’s where she buried the bodies.”

“Oh, I know about that, it isn’t a problem.” Ratau sighs with relief, circling around his pentagram to make sure he’s got everything down right.

“What…” Gnatri tilts her head. “What happened to the-”

“I’ve finished!” Hurrying into the temple, Vassago tracks dirt inside with them as they carry an arm load of freshly cleaned bones. They stop themselves just in time when they notice the pentagram, quickly backing off before they step on the still fresh blood. “My apologies, Lord Ratau.” They mutter, moving to the opposite wall of the temple from Gnatri to set the exhumed remains in the corner. “It took me a while to get these all washed up for the ritual. I was going to use the well water, but Ches shooed me off to the river instead.”

“Thank you Vassago.” Ratau thanks the eager follower, moving to join them and examine the cleaned bones closer. “This should be more than enough. Why don’t you go and rest after your hard work.”

“Thank you, my gracious leader.” Vassago bows to Ratau before turning to leave the temple, stopping to bow to Gnatri as well before they depart. As Ratau counts off the various bones that have been delivered to him, the chicken slowly approaches him from behind.

“Why do you need all this?” She asks, concern warbling her voice slightly. “This is all starting to look an awful lot like what those cultist people did.”

“Well this is…” Ratau turns to assure her that this is nothing like that, but it only takes a moment of thought to understand where that worry comes from. “I suppose it kind of is.” He admits. “The zealots out there worship the bishop Leshy and perform rituals of all kinds to garner his favor and blessings. We must do the same too, though of course we aren’t hunting innocent people to sacrifice or doing this to hurt our enemies.”

“What’s this all for then?” Gnatri asks, her worries addressed but curiosity still piqued.

“I’m going to reintroduce someone into our flock.” Ratau tells her. “I’m bringing someone back.”

The sun starts to set, robbing Ratau of the sunlight he was reliant on to keep working and forcing him to break out the few candles he had stolen during his crusades to keep the place lit. It wasn’t necessary at this point, he’s double and triple checked the ritual circle, the sacrificial offerings, everything. All the technical stuff he needed to worry about was just as it was in his grimoire, all he needed to do now was gather everyone inside and channel their devotion through his crown to call upon his lord’s power to work a miracle.

That should be easy enough, everyone will want Ratoo back as much as he does, but it’s still an intimidating hurdle to pass. He gathered everyone around to preach about his lord, to share the same stories he was told of the bishop’s cruelty to him and the comparative kindness he showed to his followers, but this was going to be different. Everyone was going to be a participant now. Everyone was going to be under the same roof, Ratau was going to be giving them a sermon in this holy temple built in the name of The One Who Waits. Gnatri was concerned about how cultish things were starting to look but this was going to push that belief on everyone.

Once Ratoo is back, those worries will wash away. The One Who Waits is a kind god worth worshiping who can not only grant a peaceful rest in the afterlife he watches over, but bring back those who were taken before their time.

Vassago is the first to arrive at the temple, eager to witness the miracles the new god they worship can work. Following close behind them with their help is the elder Karacyth who had retreated back to his tent to allow Ratau to make the necessary preparations in the temple. He pauses at the door when he sees the pentagram on the floor, but the reassuring smile Ratau gives him seems to put him at ease. With how long he’s been around, maybe he’s familiar with ritualistic practices like this, but knowing that Ratau is the one leading things means there’s nothing to fear.

Everyone else slowly funnels in as the sun continues to set, following the light of the candles inside. Lyrcai holds the doors open for everyone and counts them off as they pass. Once everyone’s inside, he closes the doors behind him as everyone starts to gather around the raised stand where Ratau is seated. His legs dangle off the edge of the raised platform and his lord’s grimoire rests on his lap.

“Thank you all for gathering here.” He addresses his flock, trying to still the anxious flutters in his chest as he prepares himself. “I’ve brought you all here as I have something very special planned for tonight. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now, a true miracle that only The One Who Waits could perform. We’ve lost… countless friends and family, all of whom are enjoying their peaceful rest in his care, but even I miss people more than words can describe.”

Many people in the crowd bow their heads, some in grief and remembrance, some to offer small prayers that Ratau overhears, thanking the lord for his continued kindness in watching over their loved ones. Most of the prayers come from Karacyth who has returned to his seclusive spot in the corner of the temple to avoid bumping shoulders with anyone as he sits on the ground.

“The One Who Waits holds domain over death, and for centuries, his followers came to him to ensure their loved ones’ safe and painless passage into the afterlife.” Ratau continues. “But near the end of his rule, a mother and father made a request of him that he had never attempted before, something that only he with his power over death could fix. Presenting him with their child, a little lamb who’s life was lost before it could even begin, they begged him to bring them back.”

Murmurs start to rise from the flock. They were quickly piecing the puzzle together.

“In a grand show of his power and benevolence, he returned the soul of the lost child back to its mortal body, granting them life once more.” Ratau says. “They would grow to become his greatest and most trusted disciple, a living example of his mastery over death. They were also the first victim of the bloody genocide that the bishops of the Old Faith would enact, fearful of The One Who Waits’ power and everything that he represented. While our lord is now bound in chains, I can still enact his will, and tonight, I aim to work the same miracle he did all those years ago.”

The mumbles stop, everyone’s question is answered. What follows next is a slew of new questions.

“Who?!” Oy asks from the crowd. “How many times can you do it?! Is it him?! Can you bring him back?!”

“How… How is this possible?!” Gnatri asks. “That’s what the bones are for?!”

“Wouldn’t we be interrupting their rest?” Ches asks with some concern. “Will they be alright coming back?”

“Maybe…” Ratau says, taking his crown off his head. “But I miss my brother… I want him back.”

The questions die down as Ratau sets the grimoire aside and hops off the stand. Everyone makes way for him and clears off the ritual circle in the center of the temple. Reaching into the crown, he speaks up to everyone around him.

“I ask that you all maybe avert your eyes for this.” He warns. “There wasn’t much left of him.”

Pulling his brother’s head free from the crown’s void, several horrified gasps fill the temple from those who did not heed his warning. Ratau himself sucks in a horrified gasp as he gets another look at his brother’s head, his single remaining eye staring off at nothing as he holds him up by his torn ear. Ratau can’t wait until that eye is able to look back at him.

Setting the head down in the center of the ritual circle, Ratau returns to the stand, hopping up and taking the book with him. Everyone else keeps their distance from the circle, naturally gathering around it at a perfect distance for it to be uninterrupted.

“Vassago?”

“Yes, my lord!” Hurrying to the corner of the temple to retrieve the bones for the sacrifice, they begin positioning the remains in the exact locations Ratau showed them. As Ratau braces himself, the flock watches in disgust, worry, and muted excitement as Vassago lays everything out around Ratoo’s severed head. They’ve all seen Ratau cheat death before, but now they were going to watch death be completely undone.

“Everyone, form a circle and take each other’s hands.” Ratau instructs from the stand, opening the grimoire to quadruple check everything is where it’s supposed to be. Everyone tentatively gathers around, joining hands and leaving plenty of space around the ritual circle, though two people don’t join in; Vassago who is still laying out the bones, and Karacyth who remains in the corner of the temple with a perturbed look on his face. Stepping down from the stand, Ratau moves around the growing circle to check on him. “Elder Karacyth? Is everything alright?”

“My…” The elder looks lost for a moment. “My grandfather told me stories of this very ritual…” The elder turns his eyes on Ratau. “If you do this, what if they come looking for us just as they did the lambs? What if-”

“It’s alright, Karacyth.” Ratau assures his elder. “I won’t let any of those monsters hurt us again. I promise. This is our lord’s greatest miracle, we can’t let the bishops scare us out of using it. We can’t let them keep Ratoo.”

“You really miss him so much that you would risk the wrath of the gods?” Karacyth asks, still afraid.

“Don’t you?” Ratau asks back.

After a moment, Karacyth lowers his head. “I suppose I do…” He sighs. Taking Ratau’s hand, the young man leads him to the circle where Ches and Vassago wait to take his hand. Everyone is gathered, the ritual circle is complete. It hasn’t even begun yet, but even now, Ratau can feel a powerful, looming presence over them all.

Ratoo would be with them soon.

“Everyone!” Ratau jumps back onto the stand and addresses his flock, their eyes all turning to him. “Bow your heads and keep your hands clasped with those of your neighbors! Chant the name of the fallen, let The One Who Waits hear your pleas for his return so that he may find his soul!”

The flock does as they’re told, their eyes falling to the floor as they chant around the ritual circle. They call out Ratoo’s name, begging him to come back, begging the lord to revive him. Ratau can hear it in their voices, they want him back just as badly as he does.

Ratau stands over it all, his thoughts being drowned out as the chanting fills the temple. He watches as the dried blood he drew the ritual circle starts to liquify once more, its dark stains returning to a vibrant red color. He feels a fire burn within his chest and tears sting at his eyes. He opens his mouth to join in with the chants.

He isn’t able to get a word out when everything goes red.

His body locks up as it becomes a conduit for the Red Crown to channel its power through. His vision grows red and blurry as blood seeps from his tear ducts. Every muscle in his body is tense and unmoving, though he isn’t still. He can feel his feet leave the floor as his body seems to rise up.

The whole temple starts to shake as the bloody ritual circle on the floor appears to move, the five points of the pentagram and the runes painted on the floor beginning to circle around the decapitated head in its center. In a sudden flash of light, there is a gaping hole in the floor, a cold white fog emanating from it. Many of the followers start to freak out, trying to back away from the sudden portal that has opened in the temple, but all of them continue to hold hands. They pray louder, encouraged by the sudden changes and the fact that Ratoo’s head has not fallen into the white abyss below it but was instead floating just above the hole.

Ratau cannot move and can barely see, but through his bloodstained vision, he watches as the bones Vassago laid out in offering are swallowed by the abyss, but not all of them. Several bones remain, floating just above the hole along with Ratoo’s head. They’re all begging to converge beneath it, lining themselves up and connecting themselves into a new form.

Muscle and tendons grow before his very eyes to connect the bones, fur starts to grow out from the cut around Ratoo’s neck, spreading over the rest of his forming body. Color and life return to his features and for the briefest moment, Ratau swears he sees his brother’s eye move.

With an almost debilitating pain, the crown lifts off Ratau’s head, radiating with so much power and energy that it burns the skin on Ratau’s face. He can’t see, he can barely hear through all the chanting and the ringing in his ears, but through all the chaos and confusion, he hears a scream join the choir of voices.

With one more brilliant flash of light, Ratau falls to the ground and is forced to throw out his hands to break his fall when his legs are too weak to hold himself up. Somewhere in front of him though, someone collapses onto the now solid wooden floor, naked and shivering. The flock is motionless for several moments, stunned by the impossible sights they just witnessed and trying to split their attention between the two rats gasping for breath on the floor.

Was that him?! Was he back?!

Ratau tries to crawl from the raised platform down to the naked figure on the floor, misjudging how steep the drop from the platform is and taking a pretty bad fall as he lands on his side. His bark of pain and the loud thump manages to shake people out of their shock and Oy breaks the circle to hurry over and help him up. Some take tentative steps towards the reanimated corpse in the center of the room, but no one’s brave enough to get too close.

“Ratoo?!” Ratau calls out, trying to work feeling back into his limbs after being completely drained of energy. With Oy’s help, he manages to get right up next to him, but the pup backs off, too afraid to get close. Ratau’s able to crawl the rest of the way and reaches out to his brother. He rests his hand on Ratoo’s side, desperate to calm him down, but his brother flinches away at his touch.

He’s cold…

“I can’t…” His brother gasps, tears streaming down the left side of his face. “I can’t see…” Ratau nearly bursts into tears of relief and joy to hear his brother speak again, even though Ratoo is obviously terrified. Ratau tries to look at his face and finds that his right eye is still missing. That didn’t seem right. Did he mess up the ritual somehow? Was he not fully put back together?

“It’s alright Ratoo, it’s alright.” Ratau continues trying to calm him, resting a hand against the side of his face to wipe away his tears. Even his tears feel cold. He’s missing the rich color of his fur, he still looks unnaturally pale.

“My heart!” Ratoo suddenly cries out, straining his voice before sputtering out in coughs, spitting up black ichor. “Hathor! My heart!”

Ratau had almost completely forgotten about Hathor. The last he heard of her was her begging the zealots outside Karacyth’s home to spare her lover, but after that, she completely vanished. She wasn’t even at the sacrificial site that Ratoo was slain at, she’s still unaccounted for.

“Please Ratoo, it’s ok!” Ratau finds the strength to wrap his arms around his brother and pull him into a hug. He shivers as his brother’s chilled skin touches his own, but almost immediately, Ratoo returns the embrace. Ratau finally lets the tears he was holding back free, overjoyed that he gets to hug his brother again and hear his voice. The cold is getting to him though. Something’s wrong. His brother hitches and sobs, trying to say something but he’s too overwhelmed with shock and confusion to get it out.

“My… My heart!” He repeats again, gasping for breath. Is there something wrong with his heart? He’s still missing an eye, is there something missing inside of him too?! Ratau presses a hand against his brother’s chest, desperate to try and calm him down, but after a second, Ratau goes stone still with horror.

He feels nothing. His brother doesn’t have a pulse.

“Ratoo!” Stepping forward, Ches pushes past the rest of the gathered followers and kneels down beside the brothers with a blanket in hand, covering up Ratoo and hopefully helping with the cold. “Oh my goodness, you poor thing. I… Is that really you?! Are you really with us?!”

Despite having no heartbeat in his chest, despite being as cold and pale as a corpse, Ratoo looks around at the small gathering within the dim candle lit temple, tears streaming down his face.

“Ches?” Recognition flashes in his remaining eye, his breathing starting to settle as he looks over everyone else in the crowd. “Oy? Thorryn? Nokoan? Karacyth? What’s…” Ratoo looks down and finds the man he’s clinging to for warmth is his brother. “Ratau…”

“It’s ok, Ratoo.” Ratau assures his brother, tears stinging his eyes. “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again, ok?”

“What’s…” Ratoo struggles to get anything more out as sobs overtake him and he clings to his little brother again. Assured that the man before them was in fact Ratoo, the others start to gather around him, assuring him that he was safe and that no more harm would come to him. Ratau feels strength return to his body as prayers are whispered amongst the flock, praising The One Who Waits for this undeniable miracle and promising to pray every day for Ratoo’s continued health.

But he isn’t ok. Something’s gone terribly wrong.

His brother is still dead…

The genuine miracle everyone witnessed keeps them all awake long into the night. They build up the firepit and eat into the last of their luxury foodstuffs, feasting on cheeses and meats as they dance around the wooden shrine of The One Who Waits, awestruck by his power. The few skeptics of the flock are now fully convinced of the lord’s strength and a few even stoop to Vassago’s overzealousness as they kneel before the shrine to pray.

Ratoo does not join in with the festivities.

He is sent to Karacyth’s old tent as Ratau helps clean up what mess is left in the temple so Karacyth can have a nice place to sleep for the night. The whole time Ratau tries to scrub the blood and ichor out of the wood, all he can think of is his brother and what could have gone wrong.

He quadruple checked the ritual circle and the offerings, he read and reread the instructions in the grimoire, he even had The One Who Waits’ blessing to perform the ritual, but it wasn’t fully complete. His brother walks among the living, but he has no heartbeat. He was a walking corpse.

Ratau rushes through his chores, scrubbing until the worst of the stains were out before hurrying from the temple to find the tent his brother was hiding in. It’s left in the dark, away from all the noise and light by the fire. Oy assured him that Ratoo was still breathing and responsive, but even he seemed haunted by how cold Ratoo was. They’ve all seen enough corpses to know what one looks like.

Steeling himself for whatever comes next, Ratau lifts the flap of the tent up.

His brother sits huddled underneath half a dozen blankets, still shivering despite holding them tightly to himself. Oy has wrapped a bandage around his head to cover his missing eye. His remaining eye lifts up, squinting in the dark to try and make out who’s visiting him and his whole body sags with relief once he recognizes his brother.

“Ratau…” There were still streaks running down the left side of his face, but at the sight of his little brother, tears start to flow again as he reaches a hand out from beneath his pile of blankets. “Please come close. It’s so cold out here.” Ratau wastes no time hurrying into the tent to sit beside his brother, pressing up against him as Ratoo wraps his arm around him. Ratau shivers against his cold body, but he hopes his warmth is bleeding into his brother. “I’m so glad you made it out alright…”

“Well, I…” Ratau starts, but decides to drop it. “Yeah. I survived.” He assures his brother.

“I still…” Ratoo reaches his other hand up to his face, gently scratching the scruff on his chin. “I don’t know what happened. I was put to rest, but now I’m here with you…” Ratoo looks down at his brother. “Is this the other side? Did you not make it?”

“You’re back in the land of the living.” Ratau tells him. “Our lord let me bring you back. I didn’t want to live without you.” Ratoo sits silently for a moment, leeching off of his brother’s warmth as he continues to shiver. “Did he give you a peaceful rest?” Ratau asks, curious about what his time in the afterlife was like.

“I…” Ratoo’s breath hitches for a moment, but he eventually finds the nerve to speak. “Everything hurt… The last thing I could remember was watching a blade fall upon my chest. Everything was dark and cold, but before terror could take me, I heard calming voices in the dark. They praised me for my ferocity, how I fought till the bitter end to protect others. They praised my good nature, how I thought of others over myself, leaving me to be captured while others ran. The pain went away, I was laid down on pleasantly cool sand, and told to rest. I was assured I wouldn’t be alone, that my friends and family would soon join me. I heard their voices, our neighbors, our friends, but you weren't there. Karacyth wasn’t there. Hathor…”

Ratoo’s eye becomes distant, his breathing stilted. “Is she still alive?” Ratau asks. From the sound of it, he was waiting on people to help him rest, but they never joined him in the afterlife. “Do you know where she went? If she wasn’t down there with you, maybe I still have a chance to save her!”

“My heart…” Ratoo sobs, silencing his brother. “She took it…” He mutters. “She stole my heart.”

Ratau pats his brother on the back, overcome with second hand grief. That miserable shrew… Ratoo loved her to death and even though she went about things in all the wrong ways and only thought for her own safety, the very last thing Ratau heard from her was her begging for her lover to be spared. She loved him still, but after everything she’s done, it’s evident that Ratoo couldn’t love her back anymore.

Though… maybe Ratau’s misreading his brother’s words. Maybe he’s being a bit more literal.

“Do you know where she went?” Ratau repeats. If Hathor really did steal his brother’s heart, he wants to get out there and steal it back. Ratoo looks so cold, he desperately wants to make him feel better.

“She was there when they took a knife to my chest…” Ratoo sniffles. “She wasn’t in binds like the others. She was walking amongst the cultists. They told her that I couldn’t be spared, but that she’d get to take a piece of me with her to the sea… I feel so hollow. I don’t…” Ratoo lowers his head, sobbing. “I don’t know if I’ll ever love again…”

Ratau hugs his brother tight, cringing against the cold but desperate to share his warmth. “It’s ok Ratoo. I’ll get it back for you. I’ll find where she took it and I won’t rest until your heart is back in your chest and the monsters who did this to you are dead in the ground.”

After hearing that, Ratoo pulls away from him, scrutinizing him with his one good eye. It lingers on the crown resting atop Ratau’s head. “What happened while I was gone?” He asks with worry in his voice. “You seem so different now. What did you do to bring me back?”

“The same being who put you to rest and took away your pain granted me a second chance.” Ratau tells his brother. “He was terrorized by the Old Faith too. He’s chosen me to avenge him and everyone we lost. It’s through his power that I brought you back. I’m sorry if I disturbed your rest, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Ratoo nods, though he still stares anxiously at the crown. “What’s he making you do?” He asks.

“Nothing I don’t already want to do.” Ratau says. “We both want the monstrous bishops who destroyed our home and ruined our lives gone. In exchange for his protection and power, I’m going out there and rescuing people and fighting back against the Old Faith. If it weren’t for me and the crown I was given, Ches, Lyrcai, Karacyth, they’d all be dead. He saved us all, and I intend to save him too.”

There’s still worry in Ratoo’s eyes. Everyone was worried at the start before they saw how far The One Who Waits’ protection went, but Ratoo is doubly so since he’s Ratau’s older brother. Ratau shoots him a confident and proud look though. He wasn’t in danger, he wasn’t being forced into these crusades against his will. He was more than happy to serve his lord and proud of his work and the lives he’s saved.

“How long have I been gone?” Ratoo suddenly asks, reaching out to hold his brother’s face. “You’ve grown up so much since I last saw you…”

“A little over a month.” Ratau says, with a smile. “And you’re probably the first person to say something like that. Some people still treat me like a kid.”

“Well you are.” Ratoo says, only to crack a smile when Ratau pouts at him. He’s pretty sure it’s the first time his brother’s smiled since he came back. “I don’t know what all’s happening or what you’ve been through that I missed, but you’re still my baby brother and that isn’t gonna change any time soon.”

“Let’s see you call me a little baby after I slay the gods!” Ratau challenges. “You’re the one swaddled up like a baby!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Ratoo shakes his head. “Even years down the line when we’re both wrinkled and worn, you’ll still be my baby brother.” Ratau grumbles, earning a chuckle out of his brother. He isn’t mad at all though, in fact he’s ecstatic that he can bicker with his older brother again. Things didn’t go perfectly, something must have happened to his heart for it to not have been reformed with the rest of his body, but he was here.

“Do you want to step out and warm up by the fire?” Ratau asks him. “Everyone wants to see you again.”

“I don’t know… I’m tired.” Ratoo shakes his head, wrapping the blankets around him tighter. “I think I’ll rest till the sun comes up.”

“You’ve been sleeping for over a month!” Ratau argues.

“Before being rudely and painfully woken up.” Ratoo counters. “Besides… I can barely see with only one eye. I think my nightly patrols are over now. I just hope the warmth of daylight might help against the cold.”

“I’ll make sure Lyrcai stitches something warm together for you.” Ratau promises. “But until then, if you ever need it.” He hugs his brother tight, sharing his body heat. “Just let me know whenever you need someone to hold close.”

“Thank you…” Ratoo sighs, returning the embrace as his shivers stop.

Ratau wasn’t going to let his brother go ever again. If those monsters ever came here, if they ever tried to separate them again, no beast or crown in the world would be able to stop him from saving his brother.

There were so many other people he wanted to see, friends that he missed, family members who were absent within the flock. He’s going to go back for as many as he can. He’ll go on as many crusades as he needs to gather the remains necessary to perform the ritual again.

The bishops were fearful of the Red Crown and the power it commands, but they did not fear Ratau. He was going to change that. He was going to make them see that he was the promised liberator. The living will of The One Who Waits.

He was going to set his lord free.

Chapter Text

The One Who Waits warned that this would be a long journey.

The Old Faith would not be dissolved in weeks or even months, but years. Even while feeding the Red Crown the devotion and faith of his followers, it would take a lot to raise Ratau into the god slaying instrument of justice that his lord needed. Even with the grandness of his task and the years of work he would need to put into his mission, Ratau still held his head high.

After his first month of being crowned, he had established a community of his rescued friends and family, giving them shelter and a place of worship to empower him and appease their god. After month two, three more had joined the flock, rescued or converted on his crusades. With the spoils he had gathered during those missions, Ratau performed yet another miracle, venturing back to the old village to reclaim the remains of Oy’s father and bringing him back to life.

By the time winter came around, they had more than enough food stockpiled to last and warm homes to hide in for the flock that now numbered thirty. Even through the winter on cold nights that would kill mortals, Ratau pressed onward, hunting down heretics and rescuing innocents.

Before the end of the year, he had desecrated another temple of Leshy’s, robbing him of his offerings and severing yet another chain that held his lord down below.

Despite how slow his progress seemed, despite the woods growing more dangerous and his occasional slip ups which get him killed, he always receives praise from his lord. Even one chain shattered is an indescribable amount of relief as the tension around his body loosens. The brothers who serve him grow envious of Ratau, wishing they could have the honor of slaying their lord’s enemies and easing his pain.

Every mistake he makes on his journey is an excuse for the brothers to teach him what his blind runs through the woods can’t. Aym teaches him not only how to master the sword, but all weapons of war. Swords, knives, axes, hammers, spears. Anything sharp enough to cut flesh or blunt enough to break bones was thrust into Ratau’s hand whenever he found himself in the afterlife and after countless untimely ends, he had become competent enough at fighting to not only hold his own against Aym, but actually land hits on him.

Baal also continues his teachings, and it isn’t long before Ratau becomes fully literate. Not a single passage within the grimoire is unreadable to him now, from his lord’s chicken scratch scribblings to Baal’s neater handwriting. Within the ancient tome, Ratau learns his lord’s secrets, various curses his crown can invoke on his enemies, and new rituals to perform to ensure his flock’s safety and devotion.

At this point, Ratau was far beyond anything mortal men can achieve, but he’s still only a fraction as powerful as the gods.

He does not let this deter him though. He is immortal. Every death is another lesson to learn from, an excuse to sharpen his skills and expand his knowledge of the world and the dark powers at his command. Every day he gets stronger while the traitorous pantheon he hunts gorges themselves on the stolen wealth and work of their terrified subjects. They don’t see him as a threat, but a pest.

He aims to change that. He will make them fear him.

Spring has rolled around again and the sun just began to rise over the trees as Ratau marches through the Darkwood, holding a spear at the ready as he steps into an open clearing. He’s received plenty of extra visits from the great birds Clauneck and Kudaai, gathering blessings and expanding his arsenal, but his enemies have been getting more clever too.

Beasts now roam the Darkwood in greater numbers, traps have been laid along the beaten pathways between the clearings, and the small encampments of patrolling zealots have now been replaced with platoon sized masses of them, fortifying various locations in the woods to stop his forward progress. Sheer numbers and ambush tactics were the only way for the fools to be able to hit him with how powerful he’s become, the bolstered defenses merely serve as a light challenge to keep pace with his rise in skill.

Even with how comparatively harmless the zealots are now, Ratau keeps his spear handy, ready to stab or throw it at anything that makes a sudden move. It wouldn’t do him much good if a worm sneaks up on him and gets a lucky bite on his leg. He keeps his eyes out for anything valuable; berries to restock the food stores to feed the forty people who now make up his flock, corpses of dead wildlife to pull the bones from their carcasses to perform more rituals, and signs that people might have traveled through the woods.

Eventually, his sharpened senses help him catch the scent of smoke in the air along with roasting vegetables. There was a camp nearby. Ratau braces himself, tightening his grip on his spear as he creeps into the thicket. He lets his nose guide him as he keeps low to the ground and hidden in the shadows. Even in broad daylight, no one will see him coming until it’s too late.

The thicket starts to thin out, the foliage Ratau sneaks through covering less and less. He doesn’t hear much which confuses him. Camps will usually have at least a few people walking around or talking, especially this early in the day. Were they all asleep? Did they clear out of the camp? Risking breaking his cover, Ratau peeks his head up through the brush to get a good view of the camp.

Instead of a dozen armed zealots patrolling and looking for him, he finds a lonely but familiar old man snoozing by the fire.

The spear vanishes from Ratau’s hand, returning to his head as the Red Crown. Making one more scan of the clearing to make sure he wasn’t being lured into a trap, Ratau steps out of the thicket. His old friend doesn’t notice and continues to snore away, the small skewer of veggies he has by the fire starting to burn as it’s left unattended.

“Shrumy?” Ratau calls out quietly, not wanting to startle him too much.

His efforts are in vain as the second the tortoise’s eyes open, he jolts hard enough to fall on his back, leaving him kicking and rolling around on the ground to right himself back up. “You creepy sumbitch!” He blurts out in a panic. “Holy hell, you damn near stopped my heart! The hell’s wrong with you, boy?! You better help me up right now because if you don’t, I’ll-”

“Sorry!” Ratau is already moving to help the tortoise back to his feet. Taking Shrumy’s hand, Ratau effortlessly pulls the old man upright, much to Shrumy’s shock who doesn’t expect someone so small to be so strong. His cursing comes to a stop once he’s seated again and Ratau quickly sits himself down by the fire too, moving the tortoise’s meal before it burns on the fire. “Nice to see you again, Shrumy. Sorry for startling you.”

“You did more that startle me you little shit!” Shrumy barks. “You almost killed me! Where the hell did you even come from?! I should be days away from your little shantytown!” Shrumy huffs, taking a break from his shouting to take several deep breaths. Once his heart settles, his features soften up a little. “How’re you holdin’ up, kid?” He asks. Before Ratau can shoot him a disappointing glare, he corrects himself. “Right, I shouldn’t say that. It’s been a while, you ain’t as much of a kid anymore.”

“As much?” Ratau presses him.

“Oh shut it. You know what I mean.” Shrumy spats back. “As creepy as you are, it’s still nice to see you again, Ratau. Your little cult still kicking? How about the old man? He still got his wits about him?”

“We’re all thriving!” Ratau nods his head. “You were with us when there were only a little over a dozen of us, now there’s forty! The temple you’ve built us stood strong against the harsh winter. Honestly it feels a little small now with how many people we have now. How about you? Have you been doing alright out here?”

“More or less.” Shrumy nods, leaning forward to grab his burnt skewer. “Roads have been a real hassle to travel down though.” He sighs. “They’ve always been pretty bad, full of those hooded weirdos who demand you repent or pay tithes for safe passage. Someone must have pissed them off though because I swear there's three times as many now and they ain’t messing around. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Um…” Ratau glances down at the fire between them. “I might have… made them angry. Sorry if it’s made things harder on you.”

“The hell’re you apologizing for?!” Shrumy asks. “Good on you if you actually are the one riling them up. It’s about time someone showed those mumbling bastards that they aren’t all that. I think you’re incredibly stupid to be pissing them off, but good on you.”

“I can take care of myself, I’ll be fine.” Ratau says, addressing Shrumy’s worries.

“Guess I can’t tell you off for saying that, huh.” Shrumy huffs, having made the same excuse when Ratau rescued him almost a year ago. “Maybe I oughta pay your little place a visit again. None of the stinkin’ fishermen at Pilgrim’s Passage know how to play Knucklebones and I’m dying to go a few rounds against the old bird again.”

“Pilgrim’s Passage?” Ratau asks. “Is it another village? I don’t think I’ve ever visited a place outside my home that didn’t have people trying to kill me in it…”

“It’s a day’s walk south of here.” Shrumy nods. “A small pier side fishing village. Traders used to come by the docks to offload goods and travelers use it to venture to these lands, but with how dangerous the Darkwood is getting, they don’t get many visitors and the whole place is starting to fall apart. The folk there are friendly though, even if they all smell like spoiled fish and saltwater.”

“I think…” Ratau looks down at himself and the various cuts and scratches that already litter his body after running through the Darkwood all night. “I think I’d like to meet some friendly faces. I’ve read about the ocean, but I’ve never seen it myself.”

“It’s quite the hike, but if you made it all the way out here in one piece, I’m sure you’ll make it.” Shrumy nods. “You might be able to make it before sundown if you’re fast.”

“I think I’ll make my way there then.” Ratau nods, rising to his feet. “I’ve been making good progress out here, I can afford this little distraction.”

“In the meantime, maybe I’ll start making my way back to your community.” Shrumy says, struggling to push himself up with his shell weighing him down. “If you’re complaining about the size of your temple, maybe you’re willing to cough up more coin? Seems like most of my money goes to bribing the crazies to leave me alone.”

“That would be a huge help!” Ratau nods, quickly reaching for his crown and pulling out a fistful of gold coins to hold out to the tortoise. “Could you start work today? You can tell them I sent you and they’ll listen to whatever orders you give them to help with renovations.”

Shrumy’s eyes go wide at the sight of the gold in Ratau’s hand, but something he says catches his attention. “Start today?” He asks. “Kid, your little shantytown is half a week's walk away. I ain’t gonna take your money now when half of it will probably be gone just to get everyone to leave me alone on the trip there.”

“Oh, I can get you there right now.” Ratau tells him, placing the handful of coins into Shrumy’s hand. “Do you have everything of yours packed up?”

“Uh…” Shrumy stuffs the coins he’s given into a small satchel hanging off his hip. “I do. Why?”

“I’ll send you over then.” Ratau says, clasping his hands together. “Tell Karacyth I said hi when you get there.”

Before Shrumy and question him further, Ratau pulls his clasped hands apart and a flash of red light appears beneath beneath the tortoise. Shrumy gets three whole expletives out before the ground swallows him up and seals above him, leaving the campsite quiet and empty.

That little teleportation trick was easily the most practical use for the crown that Baal showed him. It would be a real pain if he had to look for traveling stones with the people he was trying to bring back home, especially since he only ever found them in old temples swarming with zealots. He’s sure Shrumy will have plenty of mean things to say to him once he comes back from his crusade, but hearing that he was having trouble on the trail, he didn’t want him walking through the Darkwood alone for too long.

Kicking dirt over Shrumy’s fire to put it out, Ratau reorients himself with the rising sun and starts moving south, eager to see what another friendly settlement looks like.

The sun was just about to set when he saw the lighthouse. It actually scared him when he first saw its light suddenly illuminate the tops of the trees above him before circling back towards the ocean. He’s never seen a building so tall. He’s met gods who would tower over it, he’s witnessed countless unbelievable things through the power of his crown…

But nothing could have prepared him for the sheer intimidating scale of the ocean.

He wasn’t even on the beach yet, but walking down the shaded pathway towards Pilgrim’s Passage, the horizon stretches on forever, showing him nothing but the crashing waves of the sea catching the last rays of sunlight as it set in the distance.

It’s so mesmerizing that Ratau doesn’t realize someone’s trying to get his attention until they’re right in front of him.

“Excuse me, young sir.” Ratau pries his eyes away from the ocean to find a salamander man carrying a strange device in his hands. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to the passage?”

“Oh, yes.” Ratau nods, turning to properly greet this friendly looking stranger. “Sorry, I was distracted for a minute there. I’m Ratau.”

“A pleasure.” The salamander nods. “I am Crokel, a humble fisherman. From the looks of it, the sea calls to you too. Have you ever cast a rod before? I am sure there are plenty of people here who would be happy to teach you, though…” Crokel’s eyes drift to the crown on top of Ratau’s head. “We try to avoid drawing the ire of the Old Faith here. Wearing that around might upset some folk.”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” Ratau tells him. “This place looks beautiful, I wouldn’t dare disrupt things here or draw unwanted attention to this settlement.”

“Then your business is welcome.” Crokel bows his head. “Enjoy your stay.”

Stepping onto the beach, Ratau is almost overwhelmed with the various activities available to him. Just walking the beach and feeling the sand beneath his feet is nice enough. Just as Crokel said, there are various fishermen sitting along the beach and the pier, casting their lines into the ocean. Several shops are erected in the sand selling souvenirs, food of all kinds, boating and fishing gear. At the edge of the settlement, a towering lighthouse oversees all, its rotating light illuminating the sea even as the sun starts to set.

The smell of seafood grilling over fires as people cook their catches makes his mouth water. When was the last time he ate anything? It has to have been weeks. He’s already learned so much, why not add fishing to that list. With how fast of a learner he is, he’s sure he’ll catch enough to give everyone back home a taste of the sea before the sun rises again.

Seeking out Crokel by the pier, he asks him to teach him the basics. To do that, Ratau needs a rod, but his Red Crown proves to be even more useful as a simple glance at Crokel’s own rod allows it to transform. He’s taught how to cast it, how to tell when something bites, and how to reel his catch in all before sundown. Though of course, practice and patience are required to truly master the art of an angler. Ratau sits on the pier for what felt like an hour before he felt even a nibble, but even with the power of the Red Crown, he isn’t able to catch his first fish before Crokel rises to retreat for the night.

“Keep at it.” He tells Ratau as he wanders down the pier. “Just don’t stay up too late out here. Funnily enough, the giant light above our heads can make things seem much darker out here. You don’t want to get mixed up and fall into the ocean.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Crokel. Thank you.” Ratau thanks the fisherman for his kindness and generosity before returning his attention to the line he’s cast out into the water. He’s been feeling slight vibrations run up the line, something’s swimming close.

Darkness settles over the beach, leaving only moonlight and the lighthouse behind him to illuminate the sea as he waits for something to bite. The other fishermen have cleared out, the fires are smothered and the shops are all closed. There isn’t a soul out here now, just Ratau and the ocean.

It isn’t often that Ratau gets quiet moments like this anymore. There was always another crusade to embark on, a chore to do at home, a sermon to tell, a ritual to perform. Any attempts at sleep would send him back to the afterlife where Aym and Baal would be waiting to test and train him. For the first time in almost a whole year, Ratau is able to just sit back and relax…

Right up until something bites.

He immediately yanks the rod back, the Red Crown reeling in for him as something tugs against its line. It’s a big one, there aren’t that many things out here that can actually test his strength. He sees the red eye near the base of the rod squeeze shut as the fish tugs painfully against its pull.

Ratau wrestles with it, trying his best to tire the beast out without wearing out his crown. The moment the fish stops its struggle to recover, the Red Crown works to reel it in closer and closer.

With one more vicious tug, Ratau yanks the beast out of the water and onto the dock, gasping in shock as a massive fish almost the size of him plaps down onto the wooden dock, flopping around in an attempt to return to the ocean. With a flick of his wrist, the fishing rod in Ratau’s hands turns to a spear which he thrusts into the beast, pinning it down so it doesn’t escape.

He stares in awe at the size of the beast as it flops fruitlessly to unpin itself. It was only during his crusades that he ever saw a body of water larger than a stream and saw fishes bigger than minnows, but this one fish could probably feed ten people all on its own! Forget about foraging, he could just sit here and fish all night and he’d have enough food to feed everyone for days. Well, as long as the fish keep biting. Looking around, it’s already gotten pretty…

No… No, this isn’t right. It’s too dark out right now.

He can barely see anything past the dock, the waters beneath him looking inky black. The moon and the stars look dimmer than they should and while the lighthouse behind him was still working, its light didn’t seem to reach him now even though it used to up until this moment. Something was wrong. Very wrong. This wasn’t the bishops, their aura was impossible to misidentify or ignore. This was something sneakier, though just as dangerous. Ratau squints his eyes to peer through the darkness, desperate to find any signs of danger before he tries to make a run for it back to the beach…

That’s when he spots fangs in the darkness.

Fear shoots into his heart as he leaps towards the fish and the spear still embedded in it. He plants his foot down on top of his catch and rips his weapon free, quickly turning it onto the rising form emerging from the waters beside him. The tip of the spear halts reaching hands and in the dim moonlight, he can see a bloodstained mouth full of razor sharp teeth drop its smile.

“Hmph…” Ratau trembles in place as the monster lets out an impressed huff. “You’re faster than I thought.” The clawed hands that were reaching for him pull away, those teeth forming into a smile once again. “What are you doing out this late at night? Don’t you know it’s at this dark hour that monsters hunt for wee little children like you?”

“I’m not…” Ratau tries to retort, but his voice cracks in his throat. His heart won’t stop pounding in his chest. It’s too dark to tell what this thing is, but it radiates an aura of power and malice. Was this some kind of demon? For as shaky as Ratau feels, his spear remains still and steady, its tip hovering just beneath the bared teeth and ready to plunge into this monster’s throat at the slightest provocation.

The beast takes notice of it and that smile widens even more. “Oh… That’s why you’re putting on a brave face. You hold the banished bishop’s crown. How foolish of me, I had no idea I was speaking to divinity, forgive me.” The monster backs away and the blinding darkness Ratau found himself in starts to dissipate a little. As his vision clears, he’s able to make out the teeth in the dark a bit more clearly.

Floating up from the inky black sea, a mischievous looking fox stares up at him from below the dock. He wears robes just as black as the darkness he’s shrouded in and there’s a devilish glint in the beast's eyes. His hands are hidden beneath two large sleeves which he holds at rest in front of him. He gives Ratau a big toothy grin, showing off every single bloodstained tooth.

“What do you want?” Ratau asks, forcing his voice to remain steady. This thing knows who his lord is, he has to make a good impression lest he tarnishes his lord’s image.

“Ah yes. You do not look like a lord yourself, but the lord you serve must have forced you into a pact.” The fox hums. “Perhaps we can strike a deal of our own. The Red Crown must be weak if you are standing here cowering before me. How do you expect to serve your lord like that? Perhaps I can offer you something; a trinket coveted by the gods, a talisman of incredible power.”

“What would you ask in return?” Ratau presses the fox. He desperately needs an edge against the bishops if he wants the crusades to end, but he isn’t sure striking a deal with this thing is the best course of action. Though, it’s impossible to ignore the power radiating off of him. If Ratau could have even a shred of that power, it could be just enough to bring the fight to the bishops.

“I saw your catch and I couldn’t help myself.” The fox snickers. “I was hoping I could grab it right from under your nose.”

“You weren’t reaching for the fish…” Ratau says, tightening his grip around his spear. The fox only laughs after being caught in his lie.

“That was before I noticed you were a crown bearer.” He says. “It wouldn’t be good for me to prey on you, but I am still starving. I propose an exchange. Give me the fish…” The fox lifts one of his sleeves and Ratau instinctively tenses at the movement. Raising a hand so his sleeves fall down the length of his arm, the fox produces a small talisman dangling from a chain. A blood red gem rests within, and squinting his eyes, Ratau can see what looks to be a depiction of the Red Crown engraved in the stone. “...And this can be all yours.”

Ratau casts a quick glance down at the fish beneath his feet, but refuses to let his eyes stay away from this beast for too long. The fox was carrying something that holds immense power, he’s sure of it. Even if this was a trick and it was little more than fancy jewelry, he wasn’t giving away much. He’d like to hold on to his first catch, but for the benefit of his lord…

Ratau rears his foot back and kicks the fish off the dock towards the fox. In a blinding flash of movement, the fox’s free hand suddenly shoots out and grabs the fish, sinking claws into its scales and gripping down with enough force to break its bones.

“A pleasure doing business with you…” The fox reaches his other hand out to pass off the talisman, but they hold it just out of reach. “May I have your name? It is not often I find people worth doing business with.”

“Ratau.” Ratau tells him, getting as close to the edge of the dock as he dares to reach for his prize. The fox reaches the talisman out further once he’s satisfied, putting it within Ratau’s reach.

The moment he grabs hold of it, the fox’s grip suddenly drops and wraps around Ratau’s wrist with an iron grip. Terror freezes him solid, his mind thrown into such a panic that he doesn’t think to stab at the fox with his spear or pull himself away. The fox leans in real close, letting out one last cackle before letting him go.

“Watch yourself, Ratau.” The fox tells him, slowly sinking down into the darkness below him. “I pray our paths cross again…”

The fox vanishes into the inky waters, leaving Ratau paralyzed on the spot in fear with the talisman clenched in his hand. He doesn’t find the strength to move until the lighthouses’ beam passes over him, dispelling the darkness that surrounded the pier. He stumbles back, his spear returning to his head as the crown. His hands are still shaking, but Ratau steadies them enough to stare down at the talisman in his hands. He has no idea what it is or what it does, but he can feel great potential within.

A wave suddenly crashes into the dock and Ratau finds himself sprinting back to shore before he makes the conscious decision to get out of here. Mortal men and forest beasts no longer posed a threat, but there were still things out here that scared him.

He’s going to have to camp out by a fire tonight. He doesn’t want any other monsters sneaking up on him in the dark.

Passing through the liminal void between worlds, Ratau arrives on the transportation stone overlooking his flock. He doesn’t have any grand victory to announce with his early return home, but there would be on his next trip. Camping out near Pilgrim’s Passage all night, Ratau departed in the early morning and eventually discovered a nearby temple. Having a landmark fresh in his mind, Ratau would be able to return to the oceanside town through this transportation stone to desecrate the temple at his leisure.

Besides, he missed everyone here after being out for so long.

Stepping down the stairs, it isn’t long before he’s greeted by some familiar faces.

“Oh, Ratau!” Gnatri spots him walking down the stairs and quickly moves to see him. She’s come a long way from the anxious mess she used to be when the community was first formed and it’s all thanks to the short rabbit who follows close beside her.

“Hey! Rat man!” While Gnatri stops to bow her head in reverence, her partner Veatik instead steps forward and wraps an arm around Ratau’s shoulder. “I was wondering when you’d be back. What have you been up to out there?”

Veatik was one of many old friends he’s revived through rituals. If he could, he’d bring everyone back, but the process of finding and identifying the bodies and gathering the necessary sacrifices to perform the ritual was time consuming. Not to mention, the ritual itself was incredibly draining on Ratau, forcing him to take a day or two to rest before he can set out again. Most people’s loved ones were returned, but with hundreds more still to go, some were going to have to continue to rest in peace.

“I spent some time fishing before making my way back home.” Ratau explains, trying to wriggle himself free from Veatik’s grip. “I caught one almost as big as me!”

“What kinda fishing hole has fish that big?!” Veatik raises an eyebrow. “Do you still have it? Did you somehow manage to shove it in your crown like you do with all your other stuff?”

“No…” Ratau shakes his head. “I… Couldn’t hold onto it.”

“Damn…” Veatik sighs before leaning in close and whispering to Ratau. “Gnat here thinks fish are gross. I was really hoping you still had one on you so I could freak her out a bit.”

“What was that Veatik?” Gnatri steps a little closer to try and hear what her partner is saying.

“Nothing Gnat, don’t worry about it.” Veatik gives their partner a wink. Ever since they came back, Veatik has had a mischievous streak. In their own words, they got restless lying dead on the ground for months, they wanted to do so much more now that they had a second chance. That, and they also missed Gnatri and wanted to do whatever they could to force a laugh out of her. “By the way, what’s the deal with the grouchy guy you sent over?”

“Oh, Shrumy?” Ratau perks up. “I should go talk to him. Do you know where he is now?”

“He’s looking over the temple with Lyrcai.” Gnatri informs him. “I don’t know if you should see him though. He said he had a lot of words waiting for you whenever you showed your face again.”

“I know.” Ratau assures her. “I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to talk to him.”

“Well good luck with that, Ratau.” Veatik says, leaving Ratau’s side to rejoin Gnatri’s. Ratau waves the couple off as they return to their work and steps off the stairs to begin making his way through the village.

The once small gathering of tents and shoddily made shrines has become so much more over the past year, blossoming into a small village. Everyone had a sturdy roof over their head now, the clearing was properly cleaned up and maintained, and the old wooden carving of The One Who Waits Ratau set up in a week was replaced with a much grander statue of stone that he himself chiseled all winter. His lord now watches over the village, his three eyes calmly overlooking the small gathering in front of it as people get their daily prayers in. As Ratau approaches it, he feels a surge of power enter his body as its gathered devotion feeds his crown.

“Ratau!” standing up from the firepit in front of the statue, Ratau breaks into a big smile and holds his arms out as his brother approaches him, wrapping him up in a big hug. The fire and his thick cloak has warmed him up a bit, but Ratoo still feels cold to the touch. Ratau’s grown accustomed to it though, finding it almost comforting, like the cold side of a pillow. “Are you alright? Did you have any trouble on your trip?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Ratau assures his big brother, pulling away from his embrace to look up at him. “I actually had a lot of fun before I came back. How about you? Are you still seeing alright?”

Ratoo’s right eye was unfortunately never healed. Whatever happened to him on the altar left irreparable damage, but thankfully his lord had solutions to the problem. While Ratau’s right socket was stitched shut, a small red marking has been painted on his forehead, acting as a sort of third eye to match his lord’s. It was a short ritual, one that didn’t have any fancy light shows or costly sacrifices, but Ratoo’s assured him that he could see just fine because of it.

“I’m doing as fine as I can be.” Ratoo tells his brother, but there’s a bit of hollowness to his words. None of the other resurrected followers had the same issue, they were all fully formed. It was impossible to ignore the stillness in his chest. “Are you sure you’re alright though? The last visitor that came by yesterday sounded like he wanted to rip your head off. He almost took a swing at me, mistaking me for you.”

“He’s an old friend of mine.” Ratau nods. “He visited once before I brought you back. It’s been a while since we saw each other again and I probably scared him a little by sending him back here.”

“Well if he does try to swing at you, you better believe he’s gonna hear from me.” Ratoo says. He isn’t the village protector anymore, but he still had a duty as the older brother to protect him from bullies.

“Shrumy’s all bark and no bite.” Ratau assures. “I’ll let you know if he deserves a smack in the face though. For now, stay warm by the fire. I’m gonna go deal with him and I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”

With one last squeeze to share as much warmth as he can, Ratau sends his brother back towards the firepit where their friends are waiting. Everyone rises up to bow their heads or greet him, welcoming him back to the safety of the community and asking about what spoils he might have found during his mission. He’s got plenty to share, but it could all be done during the night’s sermon he would hold in the temple later that night. For now, he makes his way to the temple where Gnatri told him his old friend would be waiting.

Stepping through the open doors of the temple, he finds the tortoise having a rough, but relatively calm conversation with Lyrcai. Ratau’s shadow is cast over the temple grounds as he stands in the open door way and turning to see who entered, Shrumy’s face scrunches up with rage.

“There you are, you little devil!” He barks, marching right up to Ratau to Lyrcai’s shock.

“Here I am!” Ratau tries to remain positive in the face of Shrumy’s anger, but it only seems to piss him off more.

“Wipe that smile off your face you little shit!” He demands. “You couldn’t have at least warned me you were gonna drag my ass through hell just to take me back to this place?! Is this all part of some devious plan to get me before your lord? To shave years off my life through stress and kill me?!”

“I wasn’t going to have you walk through the Darkwood while it’s so dangerous.” Ratau tells him honestly. “I send everyone who’s lost in the woods back here where it’s safe. You’ll probably run off again eventually, but if you want to stay, you’re more than welcome.”

“I wasn’t lost.” Shrumy argues, but his temper is starting to taper off. “I’ve been roaming the Darkwood for forty years, kiddo. I know the place up and down and how to deal with the ruffians who try to shake me down on the trails. While you did my heart no favors, you did save my knees from having to carry me miles and miles back here. Just give me a warning next time you little devil.”

“Yeah, that was my bad.” Ratau apologizes. “I do it all the time so it doesn’t bother me anymore, but I forget how jarring it is for people experiencing it for the first time. Did you at least enjoy your night here while I visited Pilgrim’s Passage? What were you talking to Lyrcai about?”

“He says you were hiring him to expand the temple.” Lyrcai tells Ratau. “He showed up the same way everyone else does so you obviously sent him here, but me and the guys didn’t really take kindly to him showing up and trying to boss us around while tearing down all our hard work.”

“It’s called constructive criticism.” Shrumy scoffs. “This place isn’t as much of a shithole as I left it, but it’s far from perfect. You haven’t been properly taking care of the works I built for you and half of the things you built on your own without expert supervision is one good knock away from collapsing in on itself. You paid me before throwing me here, but there’s a year's worth of work this place needs.”

Ratau feels a smile start to creep on his face. “It sounds like you like how this place is turning out and you want to stay.” He says.

“Nah, it just means I intend to bleed you dry of every piece of gold you got!” Shrumy denies Ratau’s claims but Ratau can see right through his act even without the crown. “Now, none of these big oafs want to listen to me despite being an expert, so why don’t you whip these boys into shape and have them do something useful? I suspect you’re more focused on cleaning up your temple here more than securing the foundations of the outhouse out back, so start drawing up some drafts and tell me what you’re thinking of.”

“Ratau?” Before Ratau can even explain what changes he wants done, someone else steps into the temple. Turning around, it’s Oy’s father, Doctor Ikko. He was the second person Ratau revived, desperate to appease Oy who begged him every day to bring his father back once he learned it was possible. Accidents happened quite a bit out here and plenty of people got sick over the winter. Having an actual trained doctor around was a life saver, but looking at him now, it’s clear that something’s bothering him.

“What is it, Ikko?” Ratau asks the doctor. He wasn’t gone for too long, but Ikko’s body language is enough for him to know that something must have gone wrong while he was away.

“I’m afraid while you were away…” Ikko turns his head to stare at the wall, struggling to meet anyone’s eyes. “Elder Karacyth has fallen ill.”

Ratau feels his heart fall to his stomach at the news. Lyrcai gasps somewhere behind him, and after a moment of shocked silence, even Shrumy speaks up.

“The old bird’s sick?!” He asks, stepping towards Ikko. “How sick? Did the old man catch a cold? Did he eat something bad? I was hoping I could play a game or two with him before I got to work.”

“I do not believe it’s anything serious yet, but…” Ikko forces himself to face Ratau. “I’m afraid nothing I can do for him will make him better. I fear… I fear he may not see another year.”

Ratau feels his whole body go cold.

He isn’t even sure why the news is hitting him so hard. He’s lost countless friends before, he lost his brother and had to live without him for a month, but… He’s brought almost a dozen people back from the dead and those who he hasn’t revived rest in peace with his lord, but…

Maybe things have just been going so well here that the thought of someone dying under his care was bothering him.

Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t been spending any time with him as he tends to his flock. Time he might never get back…

“Go check up on the old man.” A hand is placed on Ratau’s shoulder, and looking up, he’s a bit surprised to find it’s Shrumy. “I’ll get some basic work done here and set things up for you whenever you’re ready.”

“T-thank you.” Ratau nods his head, finding it difficult to get the words out.

“Don’t mention it, Ratau.” Shrumy tells him, pushing him along towards the door. “I’ll get this place looking sturdy in no time.”

Trying to work feeling back into his legs, Ratau follows Ikko out of the temple as the doctor leads him to the small hut that Karacyth now resides in. During the walk, Ratau tries his best to compose himself. If the elder was sick, he doesn’t want to upset him further by showing how much it’s affecting others.

Once at the elder’s door, Ikko stands aside, allowing him to see Karacyth privately. Sucking in a deep breath and giving the door a gentle knock, Ratau lets himself in. Inside the small candle lit home, he finds a familiar and comforting sight. The elder sits at his table, wrapped up in a thick blanket and sipping from a hot drink. At the sound of his door opening, he raises his head and breaks into a warm smile when he sees who’s visiting him.

“Ahh, Rata-” Ratau’s name catches in his throat, momentarily choking the elder before he manages to clear it in a sputtering fit of coughs. He tries to take in a deep breath before he tries to speak again and Ratau hears a horrible wheeze rattle in the elder’s chest. “My apologies.” Karacyth croaks breathlessly, taking another sip of his drink to try and soothe his throat. “It is good to see you home safe, Ratau.”

“Are you alright?” Ratau asks him, cutting straight to the point. Even now, the elder’s breaths seem labored, like he’s winded despite sitting still. Another cough escapes from him, one which he quickly chases down with another sip of his drink. Setting it down, he lets out a low sigh but still wears his smile.

“Sit down with me, young one.” Karacyth asks, gesturing towards the chair opposite from him at the table. Ratau does as he’s told, feeling dread seeping into his body with every movement until he’s seated. The rattling noise that follows every time the elder breaths is impossible to miss in the silence. They both stare at each other for what feels like forever before the elder speaks again. “What is to become of me when I meet our lord?”

“We don’t know if it’s gonna come to that yet.” Ratau quickly blurts out. “When did this happen? A few days ago? Maybe it will pass. Maybe Ikko or Oy will find some way to make you better. Maybe-”

“Ratau-” Karacyth tries to raise his voice to silence him, leading to another series of coughs. Ratau falls deathly quiet, not wanting to stress his elder out and cause another fit. With a wheeze, Karacyth gets his breathing back in order. “I know this must be hard on you, even with all that awaits me in the care of our lord, but my time is coming to an end, whether we like it or not… I have been alive for almost two centuries, our lord has been waiting on me for quite a while.”

“B-but…” He still looks fine. He has a nasty cough, but people got sick with worse all the time back in the old village and doctor Ikko always made them better. “I… I promise I’ll bring you back.” Ratau says. “I’ve read the scriptures, not only will you be granted life, but you’ll come back fit and able too! I could easily give you another century of life and-”

“But I want to rest…” Karacyth tells him, leaving Ratau to fall silent again. “Ratau… You were always good with numbers, but I do not think you understand just how long I have lived. I was given this necklace as a gift from my father who passed when I was thirty years old. That was over a hundred and forty years ago… Two whole lifetimes for some. I do not even remember what he looks like, what his voice sounded like. My wife passed when I was a hundred, and while I can still remember her face, my memory is failing me in my advanced age. Everyone I ever met in my youth has died. I watched entire generations come and go within our small village. I treasure each and everyone one of those friends still and… I think it is my time to join them.”

Ratau doesn’t have words. He sits stunned as his elder, the old man who practically raised him and his brother, tells him he doesn’t want to come back, that he wants to stay dead, gone, forever... To punctuate this, the elder slowly reaches beneath the hem of his robes and pulls his necklace free, setting it down on the table in front of Ratau.

“My time has not come yet.” Karacyth says, clearing his throat. “I hate to see you so sad, but you have told all of us yourself, there is nothing to fear. I am going to see my family again, my wife. After nearly two centuries of running and building, experiencing love and loss more times than any one man should, I will finally rest, the ache of my old bones taken away.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

Ratau’s voice comes out as little more than a whimper. Ratau has witnessed death, delivered death, served death himself, but he still isn’t used to it. He still remembers how heartbroken he was to find Ratoo’s corpse even though he went searching for it for the sole purpose of bringing him back. He still felt guilt every time he came across sites of sacrifices or pillaged homes and settlements, horrified by the senseless slaughter conducted by the Old Faith. He has the power to undo death, to keep his friends and family close forever…

But Karacyth doesn’t want that. He wants the peace and quiet everyone else from the village was afforded. He wants to see all his old friends.

Ratau has been fighting to save every life he can, but Karacyth wants death…

“I will miss you too, Ratau…” Karacyth says before rising from the table to walk towards a nearby drawer. From inside of it, he pulls out a small game board and his bag of dice before returning to the table, coughing a few times with the effort. “What do you say I give you some more memories to remember me by, hmm? I am not gone yet, I have plenty more games left in me and I somehow doubt the lord will let me bring my dice to the grave.”

“I’d…” Ratau sucks in a breath, desperate to hold back his tears. “I’d like that.” Ratau watches as Karacyth spills his dice bag into the board he sets down. Playing games with Karacyth was always the highlight of his day. Knowing that he won’t be here for long and that these games are limited…

He pushes that thought away to try and enjoy his game now, but as he tries to clear a space to lay his dice, his hands brush against the necklace of bone resting on the table. “Hold onto that for me.” Karacyth requests. “Keep it for someone you love. I do not know how long you will serve The One Who Waits, but I do not want you to do it alone. As the years went on, I started to see it as a curse, but that is only because I had the one. If I had two…”

“Thank you…” Ratau reaches over and grabs the necklace. He stares down at the small skull at its center, the skull of a stillborn if the grimoire is correct, granting its wearer the years the child would have lived. He sets it down on his lap.

He’s once again reminded of how long this crusade might last. It’s been almost a year and while he’s cut a couple chains, his lord is still far from free. Death won’t take him as long as he fights, but everyone here will continue to age. He has this necklace, hell, he has instructions to make more, though the ingredients necessary would be incredibly difficult to acquire. Even if he could give everyone in the community one of these necklaces, it doesn’t stop the process of aging, it only slows it.

A die clatters against the wooden board in front of him, jostling him out of his thoughts as Karacyth places a two in his center column. “Your turn, Ratau. And do not go easy on me. I aim to give this my all till my last breath.”

“Alright.” Ratau nods, desperate to squash the terrifying thoughts creeping up in his head. He doesn’t have too many games left with the old bird. He’s going to enjoy what time he has left with him before he sees him to his rest.

Grief weighs Ratau down as night falls and sleep takes everyone else in the village. Oy now sleeps within Karacyth’s home, acting as his permanent caretaker and overseeing his condition as Ratau performs his other duties. Ratau almost wants to shirk all of his other duties just to spend more time with the old man. He’s scared that the next time he goes on a crusade, he might not be around when his time finally comes.

This is stupid…

He is the chosen vessel of The One Who Waits; Death himself. For months, he’s been gathering people into the temple he now rests in, assuring them that their loved ones are safe in the lord’s care and that if they prayed every night, they’d be guaranteed that same peace whenever their time came. The sermons he told, the scriptures he read, they’ve helped everyone else overcome their grief, but they do nothing for him.

He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Karacyth. News has already spread and he’s overheard prayers from the other followers praying that he’ll go out peacefully in his sleep, ensuring there will be no pain and that he’d wake up surrounded by the friends and family he lost over the years. He wants to rest, to be unbothered and to finally free himself from the cruelty of this world to spend eternity in the cool caress of The One Who Waits.

He needs to see him. He needs to meet with his lord to make absolutely sure his elder is taken care of once he’s gone.

Through the grimoire and the countless crusades he’s been on, he’s all but mastered the various abilities of the crown, including some more niche abilities that didn’t have many practical uses. Alone in the temple with his heart threatening to break with grief and desperate to see his lord for assurance,

Ratau stops his own heart.

He finds himself in the afterlife before he knows it, standing in the white sands and peering out into the fog. He steps forward, more than familiar with the landscape. He passes by the shattered chain links still scattered in the sand, left as monuments to his work and progress. He passes them all by though, moving through the afterlife with purpose.

The fog parts, his lord appears before him, and his servants kneel at his side. Taking a knee, Ratau bows to his lord. Before he can even voice why he’s here, The One Who Waits speaks first.

“Is your faith so easily wavered?” He asks. “Have I not told you time and time again what becomes of the souls of the dead? Do you doubt me?”

“N-no! I-”

“Then why do you come to me, teary eyed and grief stricken?” The One Who Waits demands. “His condition is terminal, he has a month or two at most to live. He has accepted his fate, comforted by the sermons you held and the promises I have given him. He will rest here among the dead, his remains buried with his loved ones who died before him.”

“He is a mere mortal.” Aym suddenly speaks up, opening his eyes and glaring at Ratau past his veil. “He is bene-”

“He has lived a full life.” Baal interrupts his brother. “Divine beings such as ourselves are denied death, but you can’t deny him his rest. Let him join us here in our sanctuary as all mortals eventually do.”

None of them are budging. Even his lord is demanding he stand by and do nothing, to let the man he loves as a father die. Ratau was the only one opposed to it. The elder wanted to rest, the community wanted him to go out peacefully and the brothers were waiting with open arms to take him in. Was he selfish for wanting to keep Karacyth in his life past his due? Was he greedy for wanting to stay with his family forever?

“The old man’s days are numbered.” The One Who Waits suddenly states. “His condition will worsen, his final days will grow more and more painful as disease ravages his body. He is of no use to your cult anymore.”

“N…” Ratau looks up at his lord. “No use?!”

“Well…” The One Who Waits breaks into a smile, one that Ratau’s never seen him wear before. “There is one use left for him. My vessel, your crusade has made headway, but you are still far too weak to challenge the bishops. You need to grow stronger, and strength cannot be attained without sacrifice.”

Ratau feels a numbness overtake his body as he rises to his feet. He stares up at his lord in horror of what he’s suggesting.

“You’ve read the grimoire.” The lord continues, that wicked smile only growing wider. “You know the rituals to perform, to feed the crown through the act of ritualistic sacrifice. All the old man has to look forward to is weeks of declining health, feeling his insides strain and wither as sickness takes him. Spare him from his slow death. Make it quick. Gorge yourself on what life he still holds and become stron-”

“NO!”

Ratau’s voice echoes through the afterlife, his anger loud enough to wake the dead. His whole body shakes with rage and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. Aym and Baal both tighten their grips around their staves, a look of shock on their faces. They both look up to their lord, wondering how he’ll react.

The smile is gone now. All Ratau can see are his lord’s three red eyes which now glower at him with barely restrained disdain.

“No?” Despite the clear anger in the lord’s eyes, The One Who Waits keeps his voice calm. “Why not?”

“I…” Ratau struggles to find his words underneath the lord’s glaring eyes. “I can’t just… He… He deserves to…”

“I am patient.” The One Who Waits tells him. “I will remain here for as long as it takes for you to break my chains, but why do you insist on doing things so slowly? You are weak. The traitors have killed countless innocents to attain the power they have and you hope to match their power without getting blood on your hands? Do you wish to serve me for centuries, slowly chipping away while your flock withers and dies just as the old man is now? Will you subject yourself to seeing your brother age and die while you remain the same? You will not find peace until your work is done. You do not want him to be alone here when his time comes again, do you?”

Ratau stands stunned, horrified by the thoughts his lord plants in his head. What he once dismissed as intrusive thoughts are now being fed to him as potential truths. His friends and family will all grow old and die while he remains here, serving his lord in this almost impossible task for as many years as it takes.

“You’ve already made a sacrifice the other night.” The lord speaks, drawing Ratau from his terrifying thoughts. “The devil that approached you in the dark, he gave you an artifact of incredible power for only a fish. What I am asking is even more charitable. You will be sparing your elder from his slow and painful end, sending him to me to rest in peace with his loved ones while you become strong enough to save more to add to your flock. There’s barely any costs, so why let this opportunity go to waste?”

“I…” Ratau’s throat feels dry as a desert as he desperately tries to choke his words out. “I want to spend time with him in his last days.” Ratau says. “I want to make as many memories as I can to remember him by when he’s finally gone…”

The tears Ratau was trying to hide from his lord finally break free. He doesn’t want to say goodbye, ever. He’s spent his entire life looking up to elder Karacyth and can’t imagine a world without him in it. His lord continues to stare down at him, silently judging him.

“You’re still far too weak…” The One Who Waits eventually speaks. “Despite wearing the Red Crown and tasting the power of divinity, you still think and act as a mortal would. An instrument of death should not shy away from it. Your elder will die, one way or another. If you would have him suffer in his old age to spare yourself from having to put him down, that is an act of your cruelty, not mine.”

“I’m not-”

“Perhaps you’ll find other means.” The lord interrupts him. “The talisman you procured will carry you far in your crusades, but if you were to submit the life of the elder as well, you just may become strong enough to challenge the traitor Leshy.”

“I’m…” Ratau forces himself to say something, anything to make his lord stop suggesting he do something so terrible. “I’m not gonna be like the bishops!” He shouts. “I’m not going to take the lives of my own followers or force them into battles they don’t want any part of! I’m better than that! I thought you were better than that!”

He points an accusatory finger at The One Who Waits with that last declaration, staring defiantly back up at him as the god continues to glower. His lord was tortured and banished by his siblings for daring to challenge their power. Those monsters have only hurt more and more people and were in the process of exterminating an entire race simply for being associated with the god of death. To sacrifice people himself seems hypocritical.

The One Who Waits’ glare suddenly breaks and the lord bows his head slightly, letting out a tired sigh. “Foolish, naïve child…” He shakes his head. “How little you truly know.”

“I’m not-”

“Never speak out against me like this again, rat!” The One Who Waits suddenly snarls, chilling Ratau to his core. Even the brothers flinch at the sudden change in tone. “If you refuse to learn then it cannot be helped, but never compare me to those traitorous bastards! I will not allow such blasphemous words to be uttered in my domain. Slay the old man yourself or leave him to suffer, I do not care, but do not stray from your duties. Your ideals will not carry you far against the monsters you fight. Sacrifices must be made, both in a literal and figurative sense. When the traitors target your family, the ones you love, you will wish you cast these pointless worries aside to gain the strength to protect them.” Raising his hands as far as the chains will allow, the lord presses his fingers together. “Begone from my sight, child. You have work to do.”

With a snap of the lord’s fingers, Ratau finds himself back in his temple, his heart surging in his chest as it regains its pulse. He gasps for breath, holding himself tight as he tries to regain his composure.

His lord was a kind and patient one, but Ratau feels he’s testing that patience. He used to be afraid of the power of the crown, just as his flock was, but he’s learned to see it as a valuable life saving tool. The lord has been truthful this whole time, and all the people he brought back with the lord’s power have shared stories of what it was like on the other side. It’s calm, peaceful, quiet. The lord has done everything in his limited power to help Ratau, to protect his flock, to go against the tyrannical rule of the Old Faith…

He can’t stop now. He can’t question his faith. Sacrifices had to be made in the name of progress, both figurative and literal.

Ratau isn’t sure if he has the guts to do it himself though…

Chapter Text

“Die trespasser! Fall to the ground and bleed for Lord Leshy!”

Ratau has never seen so many people in one place.

While he wanted nothing more than to stay at home to care for elder Karacyth, he still had a job to do. Shrumy’s expansion plans for the community also required a good deal of resources, resources that they no longer had on hand in the small clearing he claimed. Whether he wanted to or not, he had to leave home and venture into the Darkwood once more.

Rather than going in at random, he used the transportation stone to return himself back to Pilgrim’s Passage to raid the temple he scouted out on his last trip. This place was massive, it practically dwarfed the smaller temples he’s already raided. If the treasury here is bigger too, he should find more than enough to keep everyone at home covered for months.

He’d be able to stay home to care for Karacyth.

That’s why he charged in despite the entire building being absolutely swamped with zealots of all shapes and sizes, armed with bows, swords, axes, everything. The place was a death trap, but that wasn’t going to stop him. It’s been made very clear to him that he will not die as long as he has work that needs doing. With this place so readily accessible, he could probably rush right back in before they finish cleaning up the mess he’s already made of the place.

He isn’t going to die though, not with the newly found power he was given by the devilish teeth in the dark.

“Perish, heretic!” In the flurry of blades and arrows he’s deflecting and dodging, one of the zealots manages to slip past his defenses, grabbing hold of the newly knitted scarf Lyrcai had made for him and yanking him off balance. Unable to protect himself as he throws his arms out to break his fall, the zealot who pulled him down jams a dagger into his side, causing him to cry out in pain.

In a flash of light, his crown forces everyone to back away from him, giving him space to regain his balance and pull the blade out of his waist. Everyone circles around him, sadistic grins revealing themselves from their dark hoods. They think they have him on the ropes, that with his injury, he won’t be able to fend them all off.

Ratau reaches up and readjusts his scarf, resting his hand over the talisman knitted within. With a deep breath, the talisman draws on the burning fervor in his heart, and in seconds, the pain in his side goes away. He doesn’t need to look down to know that his wound has healed, the shocked gasps of his attackers is all the confirmation he needs.

The holy talisman which was given to him was an ancient artifact created by The One Who Waits himself millennia ago, a gift he gave to his closest disciples which carried powerful blessings. The small artifacts were sewn into various articles of clothing to act as protective armor by the old disciples to defend themselves from the assassins the traitors eventually sent their way, and while all of those disciples have long since died, their artifacts persist. They were made to protect The One Who Waits’ most faithful, and that’s exactly what they were doing now.

Ratau charges back into the fight, his wounds sealed up and his resolve strengthened. With this one talisman alone, his crusades could last even longer. A serious injury won’t slow him down or force him to retreat back home anymore, he could go on for days and walk away from even the most gruesome battles without a scratch.

He was practically invincible!

He fights with a ferocity that none of the zealots can match, desperate to clear this place out and return home to Karacyth. Any lucky hit they do manage to land is sealed up almost instantly, the talisman in his scarf fueled by the fervor in his heart. The zealots’ numbers start to dwindle, those who remain falling into a panic as the small rat who charged into their temple effortlessly culls half their ranks. Some are smart and throw down their weapons to flee. Those who are too blinded by their loyalty to Leshy charge forward to their deaths, falling under Ratau’s spear the moment they get too close.

Others though… Others start to pray.

“Save us Leshy!”
“Smite this heathen! Save your temple!”
“Grant us the strength we need!”

The one who doesn’t call upon Leshy himself for help but calls on him to give them the strength to fight instead suddenly cries out. The others scatter as Leshy warps the poor zealot into a beast with his terrible power, creating a monster to protect his temple.

The monsters the bishops create are the most horrifying things Ratau’s ever witnessed. It wasn’t just the monsters themselves that frightened him though. The bloodshot eyes, the growing horns, the jagged teeth, it all creeped him out, but it was the fact that these used to be people that got him the most. It was sickening to think that there were people who were willing to become monsters for their terrible lords.

Once he knocks this beast out of its bloodlusted state, they’ll realize how terrible their god is. Just as he had with everyone before them, Ratau will offer them a place in his flock to worship a benevolent god, one that will show them kindness unlike the monsters they worship now.

The sun sets on the horizon as the battle rages on, the burning torches hung on the walls and carried by the few zealots who remain illuminating the temple as he fights against the mutated monster. As they fall, their torches ignite the temple, flames slowly spread across the floor, burning up the bodies and the walls as he slays every last man who remains. The monster is a bit harder to deal with. It charges him constantly, throwing its entire mutated body at him and pushing him towards the flames, but in its blind rage, it’s just as easily led into the fire.

He doesn’t get out unscathed. Fire singes his fur, horns dig into his flesh, jagged teeth bite down hard enough to crack bones, but the power of his talisman heals the worst of it away, allowing him to fight at his fullest potential as he wears the beast down.

Eventually, the beast collapses, its more monstrous features subsiding, leaving behind an injured, terrified zealot in its place. Letting his crown return to his head, Ratau quickly approaches them, gently reaching for them and pulling them away from the fire. They resist at first, but once it’s clear that he’s pulling them to safety, they relax in his arms.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” He tells them, taking his crown off for a moment to reach inside and retrieve a poultice that doctor Ikko made for him in case he found anyone hurt on his crusades. He applies it to the worst of the zealot’s injuries. “I’m sorry that Leshy did this to you. If he really cared about you, he would fight his own battles, not force you to become a monster in his stead.”

“Please…” The zealot whimpers, curling up in his arms. “I don’t know where else to go. My service was all I had left…”

“I am going to send you somewhere safe.” Ratau promises them. “There will be people there willing to help you, people just like you who were spurned by Leshy who have found a new home and a new lord to worship.”

“I swear!” The zealot is already clasping their hands. “I’ll swear my life to your deity, please, just-”

“You don’t have to.” Ratau assures them. “Whether you worship or not, you will always be welcome.”

With that last assurance, Ratau opens up a portal beneath the zealot, letting them fall through while he stays behind in the burning temple. Everyone at home is used to sudden visitors and they should already be mobilizing to help care for the newly indoctrinated.

Backing away from the fire, Ratau quickly hurries to the back of the temple, desperate to gather all that he can before the whole place burns down.

Walking down the long stone hall surrounded by shrines and statues erected in Leshy’s honor, he finds what he’s looking for. In a grand atrium, several chests of gathered offerings await looting, and near the center of the room, two impossibly thick chains are held in place, holding his lord below. Before he makes a move for the offerings, he arms himself and raises his spear high, thrusting it down onto the heavy chain links.

They shatter like ice, his and the crown’s strength being far too much for the chains to handle. His lord breathes a little easier now, his pain easing up. He’s still far from free, but every chain is another step closer to freedom. Every chain is another monument to how far Ratau has come.

He was strong enough. The holy talisman in his possession is proof that there are other methods of finding strength. He wouldn’t stoop to the bishops’ level, he won’t prey on others to become strong. He’ll…

Despite the increasing temperatures caused by the fire deeper in the temple, a chill runs down Ratau’s spine and his hairs stand on end. Spear still in hand, he whips around, searching for whatever may be creeping up on him, but he’s startled to find how dark it’s suddenly become.

Somewhere in the dark, he hears an excited yipping. Before he can pin down where the noise is coming from, a toothy grin of razor sharp teeth reveals itself from the shadows in front of him.

“I did not think we would meet again so soon!” The devilish fox cackles. “I don’t typically venture out this early, especially with so much light, oh but the smell of meat cooking over the fire…” A tongue slips out from between the shining teeth in the dark as the fox licks his lips, saliva spilling from his mouth. “You’ve turned this temple into a barbeque pit!”

“Then go eat.” Ratau pleads. “Leave me alone.”

“Come now, Ratau.” The fox steps out from the shadows. Now that they’re both on the same level, Ratau shudders as he finds the monster was twice his size. “Can’t I say hi to my friend? I see you’re enjoying my gift. After roasting up a feast like this for me, I’m feeling quite generous. How about another deal, hmm?”

Ratau’s hands reach up to his scarf and the talisman within it. He wouldn’t have cleared this place out without it. After a raid like this, there’s gonna be even more patrols around the area. Things are only going to get harder from here. As distressing as this fox is, he holds real power and can share that power.

“What are your terms?” Ratau asks, letting the spear fall from his hands and form into a crown once more. The fox won’t hurt him, not as long as there’s value in staying on his good side.

“I want a dessert to go with my meal.” The fox says with a mischievous grin, pulling his arm from his sleeves to reveal another holy talisman. “A sweet little appetizer before I feast.”

Seeing the talisman dangle from the fox’s grip, Ratau takes off his crown to root around. “I’ve probably got something in here for you.” He says, reaching around to try and find the sweets he’s pilfered off the zealots during his crusades. “Any preference?”

“I already see what I want…” Looking back up at the fox, he’s leaned in real close, their snouts practically touching. “Those big, frightened eyes of yours… They must have seen countless horrors, atrocities that would break mortal men. That terror is like a succulent brine seeping into every bit of meat. I want to pop one out of your little skull and feel it gush between my teeth like a grape…”

Ratau stands petrified before the fox, unable to back away or arm himself. He doesn’t know how, but this fox knows exactly how to get under his skin. Ratau stood defiant and even managed to resist the collective power of all four bishops at once, but under the mad, hungry gaze of the fox, he never felt more hopeless and pathetic.

“Come on…” The fox tilts his head, still baring every single one of his sharp teeth in a mile wide grin. “You like my gifts, don’t you? I only want one. A missing eye is a pitiful cost for what I offer you. What do you say? Are you going to deny yourself such power?”

Ratau rips his eyes away from the sharp teeth of the monster to look at the talisman. The one he’s wearing now has already made him leagues more durable than he was on his last trip. After being scolded by his lord for his slow progress and his refusal to make sacrifices…

Would this be much of a sacrifice? It would hurt, but it would be worth it for the prize. The talisman he was wearing right now would probably kill the pain in less than a minute, and no matter how gruesome his deaths were, he always came back fully formed with everything in its right place. He was immortal, a little bit of pain in exchange for even greater power was worth it. He’d be able to please his lord by growing stronger without having to cut Karacyth’s time short.

“Ok…” Ratau slowly nods his head, forcing himself to meet the fox’s eyes. “You can take one.”

The fox’s smile nearly splits his face in two with how wide it gets. “Any preference on which one you want to keep?” He asks with a courteous tone.

“No, just…” Ratau squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for what comes next. “Just make it quick.”

“Ah ah ah.” Ratau feels a hand rest on his chin to tilt his head upward. “Open your eyes. It will make things easier for both of us.”

After a moment of hesitation, Ratau opens his eyes.

Not even a second after his eyelids move, he feels a searing pain in the left side of his face as claws dig into his eye socket.

He screams, his hands shooting up to try and pull the fox away, but he’s too strong to even move. He feels claws scraping the inside of his skull, rooting around to sever the nerves holding his eye in place.

With a horrible wet pop, everything goes dark and Ratau collapses onto the ground, clutching at his face as blood pours from his now empty socket. He sucks in quick breaths, trying to keep himself conscious as pain overwhelmed him. He feels his talisman get to work, soothing the worst of the pain, but it isn’t fast enough. Tears stream down the right side of his face as something much warmer and thicker spills down his left.

“Another clean transaction.” Something hits the ground beside Ratau. Opening his remaining eye, he finds the talisman he did this for sitting within reach. Looking up, he finds the fox holding out his prize. Ratau’s eyeball rests between his fingers as he squishes it lightly, testing its give. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again very soon, Ratau.”

Tilting his head back, the fox flicks the eye into his mouth, snapping his teeth shut on it. Ratau hears the squelch as it pops in his mouth. He shudders in delight at the taste, savoring it as much as he can as Ratau tries his best to push himself back up. Everything starts to go dark as the shadows around him start to move.

“Until we meet again, Ratau.” The fox cackles, disappearing into the shade and vanishing down the hall he came down to venture into the burning temple. “I’m sure you’ll have something delicious waiting for me when we make our next trade.”

The darkness dissipates, leaving Ratau alone and bleeding on the ground. He quickly snatches up the talisman from the ground next to him, storing it away in his crown to make sure he doesn’t lose the artifact he went through all this pain to acquire. The talisman in his scarf works to heal the pain and stop his bleeding, but he still can’t see. The talisman likely has some limits to what it can do. He somehow doubts that the one artifact he has would be enough to bring back his eye.

It doesn’t matter. He’ll get it back whenever he reforms.

The smoke from the fire was just now starting to spill into the treasury. He had to grab what he could now before it’s too late.

Clutching at his bleeding face, Ratau makes his way to the first chest, throwing it open and removing his crown to store everything away inside of it. He works his way through the chests, shoveling gold, food, and every other material and resource his flock could ever need as the temperature increases and smoke starts to choke him out.

As he loots, he can’t help but feel he’s somehow made a terrible mistake.

The fox was a very dangerous and untrustworthy character, but the power he offered couldn’t be ignored. The One Who Waits was right, he needed to get stronger, sacrifices needed to be made, but he didn't want to prey on others to do it. The fox gave him a solution. He could sacrifice small pieces of himself, parts that could easily be replaced, to gain permanent boons which have already helped him tremendously. The fish was an easy trade, the eye was painful, but he’d gladly do it again if the alternative was sacrificing someone else’s life.

Even though he doesn’t regret the deal, even though he’d willingly become this freak’s regenerating source of food if it meant getting stronger without compromising his kind nature, he feels he’s done something terribly wrong, that simply dealing with this creature has cursed him somehow.

He hopes the fox is wrong and that this is the last they’ll meet.

The smoke becomes unbearable and fire starts to lick at the pathway he came down. There’s still so many chests he hasn’t reached yet though. As he throws open yet another chest filled with breads and other grains, he decides to make yet another sacrifice. His eye wasn’t healing on its own, but his lord can heal him should he die. He’s going to stay here as long as possible, stuffing everything he can into his crown until the treasury is empty or the fire takes him. Whichever comes first.

Ratau spends quite a bit of time on the damp sands of the afterlife when he arrives. It still hurts to move as his burned skin flares up with every twitch. He’s suffered several gruesome deaths, but this one was the worst yet. He needs to stay away from fire at all costs, he doesn’t want to go out like that again.

It was worth it though. He’s never brought home a haul this large before. Before the fire started singing his fur, he was genuinely afraid that the crown might burst with how much he was stuffing inside of it. He’s confident that he has more than enough to finish the expansion plans Shrumy has and keep his flock fed for over a month. He’ll give Lyrcai the talisman to sew it into another garment, maybe a new fleece or vest. While Shrumy overlooks the expansion of the temple, Ratau will have plenty of time to care for the elder.

He must have been laid out here for a while as before he can get up on his own accord, he hears footsteps in the sand as the two brother’s approach him. He opens his eyes to meet them, though he feels a jolt of panic run through him as one of his eyes won’t open. The two brother’s come into view and are wearing smiles, even Aym which is a rare sight to see, but both of their smiles quickly turn to looks of concern as they make the same discovery that Ratau does.

His left eye is still missing.

He quickly sits himself up, his still healing burns stinging from the movement as his hands rise to his face. There isn’t much pain in its place, his eyelids fall over the empty space, but his eye isn’t coming back even as the rest of his body heals. He looks towards the two cats with his remaining eye, praying that maybe they know what’s going on.

They both look just as shocked as he feels.

“What happened?!” Baal hurries over to Ratau, offering him a hand to help him up to his feet. “Did the lord’s… No, you’re healing fine. What’s happened to your eye?”

“Was it the traitors?!” Aym growls, tightening his grip on his staff. “They are trying to blind the holy vessel of our lord! Tell me you maimed them in equal measure!”

“I…” Ratau shakes his head, realizing just how big of a mistake he’s made. “I thought it would come back! I didn’t-”

In the distance, chains rattle erratically. The One Who Waits was trying to summon him. The brother’s put their questions aside to return to their places at the lord’s side, but they each hold out a hand to help guide Ratau. He can move just fine on his own and he still has a functioning eye, but he gratefully takes the hands offered to him. The damage done to him was permanent and he hasn’t felt this vulnerable in almost a year.

He’s in for another scolding, he knows it.

As Ratau marches, Aym nudges his arm slightly. He turns to face him and finds the cat gesturing towards a couple of chains in the distance. Even more chains are broken. His good work today will hopefully make the lord go easy on him for his stupid mistake.

The fog parts and the lord reveals himself, looking a bit more relaxed now that some tension has been lifted, but his eyes glare down at Ratau as he kneels before him. The brothers return to their posts, weary of the lord’s clear displeasure. Ratau meets his gaze, his one eye staring up at three.

“Do you feel happy with where your choices have led you?” The One Who Waits asks him dismissively, like a disappointed parent. “You won’t sacrifice an old man who will be dead in a month, but you will feed yourself to that leech for a fraction of the power? You’d rather make deals with cannibals than feed your crown?”

“I…” Ratau feels incredibly frustrated as he stares up at his lord. “I’m not going to hurt my own flock for power!” He sticks to his ideals. “If I’m going to sacrifice anything, I’ll give away what’s mine, nothing else.”

“How far will that get you?” The One Who Waits asks. Ratau doesn’t have an immediate answer. “Will you give away your other eye and go blind? Will you sacrifice a finger and weaken your sword grip? Cut out your tongue and go mute?” The One Who Waits leans down, pulling on his chains. “Gods do not give, they take. Your opponents are not sacrificing their bodies to attain power, they are taking it from others, growing stronger and stronger every day. That devil is feeding off of you, devouring the closest thing to god flesh that he can in exchange for paltry charms and trinkets.”

“The…” Ratau struggles to find an argument against his lord’s claims. “The talisman he already gave me granted me the strength to sever your chains today!” He says. “They’re hardly useless and I now have two of them! A couple more and I-”

“The life of your elder is worth ten of those trinkets.” The One Who Waits spats. “You think those protective charms hold incredible power? You have not experienced true power. The traitors feast on the souls of offered sacrifices every day, you are scrounging around for useless junk that only mortals would find useful.” Ratau clenches his fists in frustration. He wants to do the right thing, but it’s becoming apparent that it isn’t going to get him far in this crusade against the traitorous bishops. “Perhaps I was wrong to crown you as my vessel.”

“No!” Ratau quickly blurts out in a panic. “No no no, I’m… I still want to help you, I still want to fight the traitors on your behalf!”

The lord lets out a slow exhale. “I know, young vessel.” His tone is gentler now, more understanding. “You have eased my suffering. Thanks to you, whispers of my existence are spoken once more. Despite what my siblings have done, I am not forgotten. You aren’t going to be able to keep this up, however. Your mortal sensibilities are holding you back. You are starving the Red Crown. It was granted to the god of death, it needs to feed on the life of others. You are denying yourself the strength you need to fight and the sustenance it needs to help you. You are willingly letting me rot down here by refusing to heed my advice!”

“I’m…” Ratau lowers his head, taking his crown off to look down at it. It stares up at him and meets his eye. He’s seen this thing as his traveling companion and friend during his missions, filling in the quiet moments by talking to it, watching it nod and shake to answer questions. He’s tempered it under the hammer of Kudaai, it’s saved his life countless times by acting on its own to protect him. To hear that he was starving it, denying it what it wants… “I’m sorry.” Ratau whines, both to the crown and his lord. “I just don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”

“You must.” The One Who Waits tells him. “If you claim to still be loyal to my cause, that you are still faithful to me, offer me the life of your elder.”

“Let him give you the strength you need to slay the traitors that terrorized him!” Aym demands.

“Allow us to take him here, for his aching bones to be scattered with the rest of them as his soul finds peace.” Baal pleads.

“Feed the crown.” The One Who Waits commands. He was no longer asking nicely. “Do not let his death be for naught. Give his death meaning and feed the crown. Let his body nourish you and give you the strength to slay the monster that slaughtered the people he raised and destroyed the homes he built. Give him to me!”

Tugging on his chains, The One Who Waits raises his arms and throws Ratau backwards, sending him spiraling back to the mortal world.

He falls flat on his back, against the cold smooth stone of the transportation circle. He already hears someone coming up the steps, drawn in by the flash of light and eager to assist. They probably think he sent someone else back here, it wasn’t that long since he sent the converted zealot home to be treated.

“Oh, Ratau?” Someone makes it to the top of the stairs. “You usually stick the landing. I didn’t think you’d be back so-” Ratau raises his head to find it’s Ches who has come up to check on him, but the second he looks at her, her breath catches in her throat and she brings her hands up to cover her mouth in shock. “Oh my goodness! Ratau!” She rushes forward, kneeling down beside him to try and help him up. “Oh my goodness, honey, your eye! What happened?! Are you alright?!”

“I’m ok.” Ratau assures her, struggling to get the words out through the shortness of his breath. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“Please Ratau, don’t try and push this off like it’s nothing, I’ll…” Scooping Ratau off the ground, Ches holds him close as she starts to hurry back down the stairs. “I’ll get you help, don’t worry.”

Ratau doesn’t fight it. He isn’t hurt at all, there isn’t any pain in missing eye, but Ches has always been worried about him whenever he left on a mission. Letting her try and help would put her at ease, but it also gave him some time to collect himself too.

His lord wasn’t asking anymore. Karacyth had to go.

The sun had set over the horizon, but many of his flock were still awake, huddled near the fire. Their newest member sat with everyone else, wrapped up in a thick blanket and being fed assurances that they were safe. Seeing Ches hurry towards them with someone in hand, they all rise to help, only to be shocked when they see that it’s Ratau who needs the help.

“Ratau?!” A cold embrace takes Ratau out of Ches’ arms and into his brothers. “Ratau, what happened?! You weren’t even gone for a day!”

“I did something stupid.” Ratau admits, though as always he spares everyone the details of what really goes on outside. He tries to shoot his brother a smile, desperate to wipe away the look of worry on his face. “Hey, we match now.”

“That’s not funny, Ratau.” Ratoo shakes his head, setting Ratau down once it’s clear that despite the damage, he could still move around on his own. “I thought our lord was supposed to protect you. I’ve never seen you come home with even a scratch, how did this happen?!”

“I did something really stupid.” Ratau repeats. “Something that our lord can’t fix. It doesn’t hurt though, I’m fine. I promise I won’t make any more mistakes like this. The lord… He’s made it pretty clear that he doesn’t approve of me making stupid decisions like the one that did this. It won't happen again.”

Everyone looks over Ratau, shocked to see any injury on him at all. He tries to hide away from their worried gazes, but with how many people there are now, it’s hard to ignore their collective worry.

Through his crown, he can hear a few people doubt the lord’s protective abilities. They prayed to him every day to make sure Ratau returned home safe, but just this once, he came home hurt. He’ll have to assure everyone he is still being protected during his next sermon. This was nothing to worry about.

“Do you need any help doing the third eye ritual like you did for me?” Ratoo offers, pointing up at the red marking on his forehead. “You said we matched, but I can still see just fine, you can’t.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow morning.” Ratau nods. “This looks bad, but it’s a minor setback. What I got out of the ordeal is more than worth the loss though. Even though I haven’t been gone long, I’ve returned with more offerings, more than I’ve ever brought home in one haul. We’ll feast like kings tomorrow!”

Hearing that raises everyone’s spirits back up, but he can still see worry etched into everyone’s expressions. It will pass, especially once they learn that he’ll be sticking around to oversee the expansion of the place now that he has more than enough resources to last.

He formally introduces the new recruit to the village grounds, showing them where they can stay and who they can talk to if they need anything. He sees everyone to bed as the night wears on and assures his brother constantly that he’s alright and there isn’t anything to worry about, though his constant questioning was probably just an excuse to stay close to him so he can stay warm as the cold night sets in. Ikko looks over his eye and while the eyeball itself is completely gone, everything else is undamaged and healthy. With Ratau’s healing factor still in effect, Oy practices his needlework and helps seal Ratau’s eyelids shut to make sure nothing gets into the empty socket.

Eventually everyone falls asleep and Ratau is left alone by the fire and the statue, surrounded by darkness. The shrine crackles with gathered devotion, but Ratau stays away from it. The three eyes of his lord seem to be glaring at him every time he looks up at it, the once calm and loving look appearing disappointed and frustrated with him. He was testing The One Who Waits’ patience.

Staring out into the darkness, Ratau rises from his spot by the fire and approaches Karacyth’s home.

He feels his guts churn with dread with every step until he’s at the door. Reaching it out and pushing it open, the house's two occupants are sound asleep. Karacyth lies tucked away in his bed, food and water resting just within reach in case he needs it, as well as medicine to treat the worst of his symptoms as his condition continues to worsen. Oy is curled up on the floor at the foot of the elder’s bed, snoring lightly in the bundle of blankets and pillows provided for him so he can assist the elder whenever he needs help.

Ratau stares at the old man in his sleep, watching his chest rise and fall with each rattling breath. Even in his sleep, Karacyth’s face is twisted in a permanent wince, as if every breath hurt him. Maybe… He could take away that pain, but… He doesn’t…

There’s a sudden stop in the elder’s breathing and after a couple seconds of horrifying stillness, a horrible wheezing cough erupts from the elder, causing him to sit upright and reach his arms out for water. Ratau quickly steps in, grabbing his cup and holding it out for him. Karacyth is startled to see him for a moment, especially with a missing eye, but his attention is focused on the cup in his hands as he desperately tries to clear his throat. He drinks greedily, sputtering as he chokes it down. He lowers his cup, wheezing as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Oy stirs in his sleep, but now that the elder has managed to calm down, he settles back into sleep.

“Ratau…” The elder looks up at Ratau with a look of relief and gratitude. That look of happiness quickly fades into worry as he reaches a shaking hand up to his face. “What happened?” He asks. “You are hurt…”

“I’m alright, Karacyth.” Ratau assures him, taking the elder’s hand and resting it on his lap. “I’m more worried about you.”

“I…” Karacyth falls into another coughing fit and Ratau quickly returns the cup to him. It passes quickly, but Ratau can see the elder’s face contorted in pain. “I am sorry, Ratau.” He whines, struggling to get the words out through the shortness of his breath. “I am afraid that I… I am not well…”

The elder tries to take in a deep breath, wincing in pain and choking on the breath as it leaves him. It was agony seeing him like this, Ratau could barely stand to be in the same room as him, even though he desperately wanted to spend more time with the old man before…

“Are you here to take me?” The Elder suddenly asks, causing Ratau’s heart to stutter.

“W-what?”

“I know what…” Karacyth takes another slow breath. “I know what becomes of old men like me.” He manages to get out. “How the gods attain their power. You are here to sacrifice me…”

“N-no, I…” He knows. He’s lived far too long and seen too much to be unaware of what’s happening. Ratau bears a crown, and just like all the other crown bearers, they need sacrifices to feed off of. “I don’t want to!” Ratau whines, bringing his hands up over his head and running his fingers through his fur. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like them, but… I can’t…”

“It is alright…” Karacyth reaches out and grabs hold of Ratau’s arm, lowering it down until he’s holding his hand. “I… I trust you, Ratau. I know this is hard, I know this is scary, and while this world is cruel and unfair, I know you will try and do the right thing.”

“I don’t…” Ratau whimpers, tears streaming down his cheek. “I don’t wanna say goodbye.”

“Neither do I…” Karacyth shakes his head, tears streaming down his face too. “But if I must, then please, do what you have to.” He squeezes Ratau’s hand tight. “I trust you will take me to those I love swiftly and painlessly.”

Ratau struggles to breathe, his heart threatening to tear in two and his vision completely blurred with tears. Even the elder was asking him to go through with it. He had no choice, he has to do this, but…

“I can’t…” He cries. “Not yet. I haven’t…”

“I do not know if I am ready either.” Karacyth says with a shaking breath. “So many people to say goodbye to…” Ratau pulls his hand away, struggling to remain composed. He needs to go. There is still work to be done and if he’s really going to do this, there are preparations that need to be made. He’s going to have to tell everyone what’s going to happen, he’s going to have to tell everyone he- “Ratau…” The elder coughs and Ratau returns to his side again, holding out his cup for him to drink, but he pushes it aside, finding the strength to continue. “Could you please stay with me?” He asks. “If these are my last moments, I wish to spend them with you.”

“I…” Ratau wants to do nothing more, but… “I’m sorry.” Ratau sniffles. “I have duties to attend to and preparations to make. I’ll come by again to visit when I can, but…” With every word, his elder’s expression falls. Ratau turns his head away, unable to look at him. He wants to make the elder happy, but he can’t stay here forever.

He’s about to say goodbye and make his leave, when an idea strikes him. Taking off his crown, he reaches inside of it, rummaging around for only a moment before he finds what he’s looking for. Turning back to the elder, he holds out the small wooden statuette.

“I can’t be here personally while I continue my duties, but…” He places the statue into Karacyth’s hands. “You can keep me close at least symbolically until I find the time.”

The elder looks down at the wooden statuette in his hands, gripping it gently. “Was it not made in the image of your brother?” Karacyth asks, grateful for the gift.

“We basically look the same, especially now that I’m missing an eye to match.” Ratau nods with a sniffle. “The lamb thought it was made in my image too.”

The elder rests the statuette against his chest as he lies back down in bed. “Thank you, Ratau.” He says, tears streaming down his face as he tries to rest again. “In all my years, I do not think I have met a young man as kind as you. If all the crown bearers were like you…”

The elder drifts off, his cough subsiding just long enough for him to fall back asleep. Oy still snores lightly at the foot of his bed, unaware of the conversation that just took place. Ratau steps back, making his way to the door to let the elder rest.

Karacyth was sure that while this was unfair, that neither of them wanted this, he wouldn’t let the old man die in vain. With the power he gains from him, he’ll save more people, he’ll put an end to the Old Faith and slay the crown-bearing traitors. When all of this is over, he’ll make sure no one is ever sacrificed again.

Ratau spends all night rereading the grimoire, looking over all the various methods of sacrifice available to him and how they’ll feed the crown. Most are quick and painless and he’s been assured time and time again that he would be in good hands, but when the time comes, he isn’t sure if he’ll be able to go through with taking the life of his elder. He’s taken countless lives already, but they were almost all in self defense. He’s slain monsters, murderers, maniacs, but Karacyth was his friend and the closest thing to a father he had growing up.

The sun starts to rise and people begin to wake, some gathering by the fire, some arriving at the temple early to check on him. With Ratoo’s help, Ratau is able to perform a small ritual before the morning sermon, drawing out a third eye on his forehead and granting himself his lord’s vision. His view of the world looks a little warped as his new point of view is in a different place than he’s used to, but he can see clearly again.

Once everyone has gathered into the temple, Ratau begins his sermon by first introducing everyone to the newest member of the flock, a young woman named Amy who until last night served under Leshy to ensure her safety within his twisted cult. Many members of the flock have already made her feel more than welcome and safe within the community. To officially welcome her into the flock, Vassago presents her with a new set of robes, perfectly tailored to accommodate for the horns and other disfigurements that Leshy forced onto her.

Following her formal introduction, Ratau moves on to revealing the bounty he brought home. Some of the offerings are a little burnt, but the sheer volume of gold, food, and necessities he brings home sends cheers throughout the small temple. A feast is planned for later in the night to celebrate his desecration of the heretical temple he gathered all this from…

And to celebrate the life of elder Karacyth.

Only some of them had heard that the elder was sick, even fewer knew that it was terminal. His time on this plane of existence was limited, and before he could try and talk himself out of it, he announces that tonight, he will see to it that Karacyth rests in peace.

The silence that falls over the temple is deafening after the announcement. Hearing that this will be the last day the elder is with them… Hearing that he’s going to be the one to take him away… They are not horrified, they’re not angry, they instead bow their heads in understanding and prayer. They’ve been told time and time again that The One Who Waits is kind to those who have died, and as his chosen vessel and their leader, they trust that Ratau will see the elder delivered to the lord safely.

The people Ratau was closest to didn’t envy him and shared his grief, but told him he was doing the right thing by easing the elder’s pain. The converts that Ratau had gathered were more than familiar with sacrifices, but the concept of someone going along with it willingly and it being done as a mercy was foreign to them. Shrumy, who was only part of the congregation to see what the temple looked like at full capacity to properly measure out how much room would be needed to expand the place, shook his head and saw all of this as complete nonsense.

Even the flock accepted that it was the elder’s time to go. Ratau was the only one who wasn’t ready.

Despite his reluctance, he declares the day a holy day, relieving everyone from their duties to help prepare for the night’s feast and to give the elder a proper send off. The elder had many people to say goodbye to and now that his sickness was known, many others wanted to say farewell too.

Wrapping up the sermon, Ratau works to help prepare the village for the feast, laying out the spoils he’s gathered to ensure everyone eats like a king. Oy and Ikko go to fetch the elder, providing him with as much medicine and care as they can to ensure he’s as fit as possible for the feast. Despite the grim undertones, everyone does their best to have a good time. A bonfire is built to roast meats over the flames, stolen drinks from countless crusades are popped open, and everyone who knows how takes a turn to play Karacyth’s favorite game with bets being made for and against the elder and his opponent each round. Everyone was determined to make Karacyth’s last day his best…

Ratau couldn’t stand to be with the others and hid away in the temple. While everyone else was having fun, he felt like he was attending a funeral. Every time he saw a smile on the elder’s face, he was convinced it would be the last smile he ever saw. He wants to make more good memories, but anything he does now will be tainted by the fact that hours from now, he’ll be taking the old man’s life. No matter how many people assured him it would be alright, that he’d be at peace, that the elder trusted him to make it painless, Ratau couldn’t find the strength to pull through with this.

He doesn’t want to kill him, no matter the circumstances.

“The hell’re you doing in here?” He’s only pulled out of his mind when Shrumy ventures into the temple to find Ratau sitting all alone on the stand. “The old bird’s wondering where you’ve been. Told me to go looking for you so he can play his last few games with you.” He approaches the stand, but once he gets close enough to notice the tears, he stops himself. “Ratau?”

“I’m sorry.” Ratau turns his back on the tortoise, not wanting anyone to see his doubt and reluctance to follow through with his lord’s wishes. It wouldn’t do the community or him any good to have people start doubting his mission. “I’m just… I’m not ready for what happens next.”

“Then don’t do it.” Shrumy tells him, stepping up onto the stand to join him. “Simple as that.”

“It’s not that-”

“Bullshit, it ain’t that simple.” Shrumy tells him. “Maybe I’m in no place to judge considering how nice this place is compared to the rest of the shitholes out here, but what you’re suggesting is crazy. It’s the three eyed bastard that’s making you do this, isn’t it? You’re a smart guy, Ratau, but surely you’ve figured out that you ain’t cut out for this.”

“I am!” Ratau barks, shocked by how sudden he found himself turning to anger. “I’m strong, I was chosen to liberate The One Who Waits. The prophecies say otherwise, but that’s why he chose me. The traitors won’t ever take me seriously until it’s too late, but I can’t… I can’t hope to match them unless I do this.”

“Kid…” Shrumy sighs.

“Don’t call me a kid.” Ratau grumbles.

“Then quit fuckin’ acting like one, Ratau!” Shrumy shouts. “I know you’re doing good with the power you’ve been given. As creepy as you are, there’s a real heart of gold in you, but kid, you’re being played. Every single freak who wears a crown like yours is a lying rat bastard, no offense. These people trust you. They’ve told me what you’ve done and honestly, with a bit more work, I bet you wouldn’t even need that damn crown to make this place a flourishing settlement. I seriously doubt the three eyed bastard just wants you to build up houses and take in a bunch of scared folk and have them pray around the fire though, and judging by how you’re acting now, you’re starting to fold under his demands.”

“He…” Ratau tries to shake his head. What Shrumy was saying was downright blasphemous. “He says he’ll take care of Karacyth, that I’m sparing him from weeks of suffering and sickness, that I’ll become strong enough to save more people.”

“But do you want to go through with it?” Shrumy asks. “Are you doing this for the old man’s sake, or are you doing this because your benevolent god is forcing you to?” Ratau doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even know anymore. “Ratau, I haven’t been around long, but the old bird has and he’s told me about how worried he is for you. I’m sure you’ll do good things with that crown and everyone here has completely bought into this idea of your god being a divine savior against the freaks that rule this land, but don’t let him change you. Don’t let that big creepy bastard turn the kind hearted kid that you still are into a monster. Do what you gotta do. Save who you can and build this place up, but if you want my advice, ditch the crown as soon as you can and cut all ties with the gods. No matter how nice or helpful they seem, we’re all just playthings to them. Now get up. You shouldn’t leave the old man hanging. He deserves to spend some quality time with you, whether it’s his last day or not.”

Offering his hand, Shrumy kneels in front of Ratau to help him to his feet. Ratau isn’t used to Shrumy actually caring this much about him. He’s usually incredibly dismissive, especially when he starts calling him kid, but for the first time since he’s met him, the tortoise’s scowl is gone.

Reaching up for his hand, Ratau is pulled up to his feet. “Atta boy.” Shrumy nods, giving Ratau the smallest hint of a smile before his face contorts into its usual grumpy scowl. “Now get out there and play a few games. I’ve already made a few pretty pennies off the idiots betting against Karacyth and I’m to bet big against you. I just know your flock’s gonna throw a bunch of money at their savior and when the old coot beats you, I’m gonna be lining my pockets!”

Ratau does his best to fill all of his elder’s remaining time with him well, playing games, enjoying good food and drink, and listening intently as the elder tells the flock stories about his late wife, a woman who he hopes to see again very soon. While dread still lingers over Ratau, threatening to strangle him every time his elder coughs and his death draws nearer, he pushes through his own fears to be there for the elder.

Shrumy’s words bounce around his head the whole time as he rolls dice and laughs around with his friends. His lord has done nothing but help him and it’s through his power that he’s saved so many lives. The cruelty inflicted upon him was undeniable, the crimes of the traitors unforgivable, but was The One Who Waits really as innocent as he thought? He once served side by side alongside the rest of the crown bearers, and if Ratau’s learned anything so far, power has to be fought for and taken from others.

He thinks about how his lord dismissed him for being too soft, for still thinking and acting as a mortal would as if that were a bad thing. He’s never seen his lord so disappointed, so angry with him. Maybe… Ratau shakes his head. He can’t have his faith falter now. He was still a good person at heart, that hasn’t changed. As long as he stays true to his ideals, the lord’s power will only help more people. As much as this scared him, as much as he didn’t want to hurt his elder, he would be sending him to a better place where he can rest without being woken in the night by his horrible cough.

While everyone else was living it up, Ratau was somewhat relieved to feel the mood suddenly shift as the sun began to set. The sacrifice was approaching and as it became clear that the elder’s time was running out, smiles began to fall from people’s faces. Even Karacyth seems overwhelmed by the tears that start to fall, leading him to try and console and comfort everyone who still cared for him. All the old members of their village have known him their entire lives and he was there when they were all small children.

“I need but a moment more.” Karacyth tells Ratau as everyone starts to make their way back to the temple. “It looks like you might need some time too.”

“I do…” Ratau nods, feeling grief start to clog up his throat already. The elder isn’t even gone yet and Ratau already feels like he’s going to break.

“Take your time.” Karacyth pleads with him. “Oy will be looking over me one more time. When you are ready, come find me and… We will say our final goodbyes.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting.” Ratau promises, struggling to remain composed. As he takes a deep breath, Karacyth reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“I know this is hard on you, that you believe this to be unfair and wrong.” Karacyth tells him. “I pray you do not live to regret what you do, but if it eases the conflict in your heart, I still believe you are a good person. No matter what, all I ask is you remain as kind and caring as you have always been. That is my dying wish.” Lifting his hand from Ratau’s shoulder, he reaches a bony finger to wipe away the tears that have sprung free from Ratau’s eye. “Take all the time you need. I will be waiting.”

Karacyth turns to leave back home where the doctors are waiting for him. Ratau is left in the now empty clearing as the sun fully sets over the horizon, using the quiet moment to try and get his emotions in order. At this point he’s too far into this to back out now. It would be cruel to tell Karacyth that he changed his mind and that he was going to last for another few weeks until sickness took him. He was doing him a service, giving him over to the lord to be reunited with his loved ones, but…

He still doesn’t want to do it.

“I can’t kill him…” Ratau grumbles to himself, pacing along the edges of the village as he tries to muster up the strength to go get Karacyth. He takes off his crown and stares down at it, meeting its red eye with his own. “Is there any other way I can do this? Can’t… Can’t you do it for me? You’ve helped me in the past before, can’t you do this all yourself to spare me? Please, I don’t know if I can do it myself.”

The crown doesn’t nod or shake in his hands. It doesn’t even blink. Instead, the eye seems to tremble as it stares back up at…

No, it’s not staring at him, it’s…

“Poor thing.” Ratau freezes solid as something wicked speaks up behind him. He can feel hot breath bearing down on the back of his neck. Everything around him has gone very dark. “Tell you what, Ratau. We’re both friends and you’ve helped me quite a bit, so I’ll help you. I’ll take care of him. Consider it payback for the grand feast you left me last night.”

Ratau stands completely petrified as a hand rests on his shoulder for only a moment before darkness seems to swim around him.

How?! How was he here?! This village was miles and miles away from Pilgrim’s Passage where he originally found him. Did this devil somehow follow him all the way home?! He didn’t want to make any more deals, no matter how many talismans he had. That monster terrifies him. Even as the darkness around him clears out, he’s still petrified on the spot. If this monster can follow him anywhere, what does that mean for his flock? Are they safe to stay outside at night now that this thing was stalking their home? Maybe he can convince the fox to leave, to give him something to ensure he doesn’t bother any of his friends. But what was he-

“Ratau?” Ratau flinches as someone calls out to him in the dark, the crown in his hands quickly turns to a short blade as he whips around, only to find a very startled Oy putting his hands up. “O-oh!” He takes a step back. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“What are you doing out here?!” Ratau asks, quickly dropping the blade to let his crown return to his head.

“Karacyth sent me away to join the others but I saw you out here and came to check on you.” Oy explains, lowering his hands now that he isn’t being held up but still tense from the sudden scare. “Are you alright? Is there something wrong?”

“Is…” Terror threatens to freeze Ratau in place once more, but the sudden tremors he feels through his body keeps him moving. “Is Karacyth all alone?!”

“Ratau?” Oy’s ears flatten against his head as he looks around in the dark. “What’s going on?”

“Hurry back to the temple as fast as you can and bar the doors!” Ratau orders, stepping forward to push the pup in the right direction. “Don’t open it until I say so!”

Oy immediately turns tail and bolts for the temple. Ratau had no time to explain what, but something was obviously terribly wrong. As Oy made his way back to the temple to warn the others, Ratau hurried to elder Karacyth’s home.

His pleading with the crown… Did the fox take it upon himself to…

No…

No no no no no NO!

He has to put a stop to this! Maybe if he catches the fox, he can explain this is all a misunderstanding. The leftovers from the feast are still laid out, the fox can have all of it if it will make him leave.

He just can’t have Karacyth.

Darkness still shrouds the clearing and the full body shivers running down Ratau’s spine threatens to trip him up as he sprints for the elder’s home. The darkness grows thicker and thicker the closer he gets and to his horror, he can’t actually see the house itself with how dark it gets. He doesn’t need to see the house to know where it is though. He built up everything in this village, he knows exactly where it is.

“Karacyth!” Ratau calls out, reaching his hands out in front of him to prevent himself from sprinting full speed into the house. “Karacyth, hurry outside and follow my voice! Please!” He doesn’t hear any response in the dark but he doesn’t know if that’s because of the constant pounding in his ears or if Karacyth couldn’t…

No. He’s fine. He has to be.

His hands touch the wooden walls of the house, though he can’t actually see it even while he’s this close. He fumbles around, looking for an entrance all while he continues to call out.

“Please! Answer me!” He shouts, panic cracking his voice. With the fox skulking around out here, dragging Karacyth out into the open would be dangerous, but he’d be able to keep the fox at bay as long as he has his elder close by. “Karacyth! Speak to me!” His fumbling eventually helps him find the hard wood of the door and it isn’t long before he finds the doorknob.

Before he can twist it open, the door is pulled open from the inside.

It isn’t Karacyth who answers the door.

“Don’t worry, new friend.” Ratau can barely see the fox in the darkness, but what little of his face he can see is covered in blood. A tongue glides against his sharp teeth as he tries to step past Ratau, reaching a bloody hand out to nudge him aside. “Your hands will remain clean tonight. Though there wasn’t a lot of meat on his bones. What do you say? Another trinket for the little pup who slipped out before I arrived? Or maybe you’re looking for something better than these old talismans. I can offer you so much more, dear friend.”

Ratau trembles in place. The lingering darkness spares him from the sight of the house's interior, but he doesn’t need to see what’s left to know that he’s too late. He can’t breathe, he isn’t even sure if his heart is still beating anymore. The only thing keeping him from collapsing as dread threatens to crush his soul is the fox’s comment about Oy.

This monster has shown that he can prey on his flock. He won’t stop at just one.

Before his mind can even settle on what he wants to do, his hands are already moving, his crown flying to his hand and forming a long blade.

The sword fails to connect as the fox manages to catch the blade with his hand, stopping it from cutting him down. “What do you think you’re doing, Ra-” The fox does not get the chance to finish talking down to him as the blade bursts into flames, the raging inferno boiling away inside Ratau spreading to his sword. The very second the fox lets go of his blade, Ratau slashes with all his might, his vision going red with righteous fury.

His sword digs into the fox’s torso, spraying forth blood and ichor. The wicked grin on the fox’s face fades, the devious look in his eyes shifting into that of shock and horror. He wasn’t expecting him to fight back, he wasn’t expecting him to actually be strong enough to hurt him.

Ratau was going to kill him. Ratau was no god, he was a poor excuse of a crown bearer, but he was going to make sure this bloodthirsty heathen faced divine wrath. If his lord wants sacrifices, he’ll torch this monster right in front of his statue so he can watch this heretic burn!

Ratau screams with pure, mind melting fury as he slashes at the fox, invoking every curse he can cast in his berserk state. Blood splatters against his face as his blade continues to cut into the fox, his wild strikes unable to be blocked or deflected. This monster, this demon, he wasn’t going to rest until he carved its cold dead heart out of its chest! He wanted it dead! He-

All his fury, all his rage, everything fizzles out as a hand shoots out and slams into his face. Stars fly into his vision as Ratau feels something in his face break from the impact and before he can even make sense of what just happened to him, the back of his skull cracks against the wall of the elder’s home, leaving him to crumple against it as his head swims with debilitating pain.

Darkness creeps into the edges of his vision. His arms and legs feel like jelly and a sudden onset of nausea threatens to make him puke. He can barely move.

That was just one hit… All the power he obtained, all his rage, just to crumple like paper against this monster?

He tries to regain focus on the monster but before he can pick him out of the dark, a hand suddenly clamps down around his throat. All he can do is gasp for air as he’s lifted up, his arms and legs dangling uselessly beneath him. He feels claws dig into his neck as the demon bears its teeth at him.

“Is this how you treat your friends Ratau?!” The beast growls at him, applying more pressure to his throat and darkening his vision even further as he’s starved of oxygen. Even as he’s being strangled, he takes notice of the tremble in the fox’s grip. He was hurt. “I did you a favor and this is how you repay me?! You little rat! I’ll make you suffer for what you did to me! I’ll-”

“RATAU?!” Light cuts through the darkness. The fox turns away only to hiss at the approaching light. Approaching from the temple with several other able bodied members of the flock, Ratoo stands ready with a torch in one hand and a spear in the other, his eye wide with horror at the sight of his little brother being assaulted.

Ratau tries to cry out, to tell him and the others to run back into the temple where it’s safe. This monster was able to toss him around like a ragdoll, regular mortals wouldn’t stand a chance. The fox doesn’t attack though. As a crowd gathers, he actually starts to stumble backwards.

“Rotten, fetid meat!” He growls, loosening his grip on Ratau as ichor starts to trickle down his lips. He turns to the rat in his hands, pure malice radiating from him. “You better learn how to sleep with that eye open, Ratau…” The fox hisses. “You will never know another peaceful night for as long as you live!”

Ratau is thrown from the fox’s grip and his impact with the ground knocks what little air he had left in him out. Darkness swarms past him, retreating back into the woods as his flock hurries to his rescue. He feels hands on him, checking him over as someone desperately tries to get his attention, but consciousness is slipping from him.

The last thing he hears before he’s pulled under is the horrified scream of someone behind him as they investigate the home he tried and failed to defend.

He can’t stop crying.

With no more danger to keep him in a state of shock, with the monster no longer here to stoke his rage, all he’s left with is the incapacitating grief of failing to save Karacyth.

He promised him that he’d keep him safe, he promised that when his time came, he’d end him peacefully and quickly. His deal with the devil didn’t just cost him an eye, but the safety of his entire village. That monster grew attached to him, it followed him home, and it…

The eye that the fox stole from him never came back, the fox’s power hiding it away from his lord. Was Karacyth here? Was he with his family again and cared for in the afterlife, or… Or was he…

Ratau doesn’t think he can ever forgive himself.

“Rise to your feet, vessel.” Someone commands him to stand, but he can’t. He can’t stop crying no matter how hard he tries. His elder, his best friend, he trusted him and he…

He feels a hand touch his arm and he flinches away from it. He doesn’t even know if he can stand to have anyone look at him. He already felt like a monster for having to kill his elder, but to have him be murdered so suddenly while he was supposed to be under his care… He can’t forgive himself, he doesn’t expect anyone else to either. He failed, and now he’s-

“I said to your feet!” Another hand reaches out for him, but this one is much more forceful, grabbing him and pulling him upwards. Ratau doesn’t even bother trying to fight it, he’s dead weight to be dragged around. “Brother! Lift him!”

There’s a short argument between the brothers, one that Ratau does not care enough to listen to. He’s left to wallow in his misery for what feels like an eternity, his tears never stopping. He’s not ready to see the lord. He’s not ready to do anything. If he stands before his lord, he’ll get confirmation over what happened to the elder, and if he isn’t here where he belonged, he isn’t sure if his immortality would save him from the heartbreak.

He isn’t left alone forever though. The argument between the brothers concludes and Ratau finds both of the brothers leaning down to force him up. Ratau doesn’t bother trying to stand despite their insistence that he must. He wants to stop crying first. The brothers drag him through the sand, carrying his dead weight between the two of them. He has no choice.

He tries his best to hold his tears back, to suck in a full breath without breaking into sobs. He wants to be at least somewhat presentable before his lord. He isn’t able to make any progress as the dark looming form of The One Who Waits falls over him. The best he can do is suppress his wailing into quiet whimpers which are only broken by his sobs. The brother’s drop him in place and he doesn’t have the strength to kneel or prostrate himself. He just curls up into a ball on the spot, unable to look his lord in the eye.

Once again, he's left there for what feels like forever, waiting for The One Who Waits to do something. Ratau’s already tried his patience enough by refusing to make sacrifices for this long, and after allowing the demon he bartered with to steal that sacrifice from him, he had to be furious.

He risks taking a look up at his lord and even through his tear blurred vision, he can read all sorts of emotions on the god’s face. Pity, anger, disappointment, dread. He stares up at him, waiting for a response. A word of comfort, a shout of anger, anything to draw Ratau out of his own head to focus on his lord’s words.

Instead, The One Who Waits reaches his hand out as far as his chains will allow. He beckons with one finger, and Ratau feels the Red Crown lift from his head.

“No! WAIT!” Panic strangles him as he tries to reach up for the crown, but it’s already out of reach. He scrambles up to his feet, desperate to grab hold of the crown as it floats towards the lord’s hand, but Aym and Baal both step forward, throwing their staffs out to hold him back. The crown which answered every call and saved his life several times during his crusades is taken from him. Returning to the lord’s hand, he raises it up, guiding it towards his own head where it floats to rest, growing in size to better fit him. Ratau is breathless, his words strangled in his throat and his legs threatening to give out when the lord finally speaks.

“I was a fool to think someone like you would serve as a worthy vessel.” The lord sighs with disappointment. “I was a fool for thinking I could defy prophecy, for choosing someone who’s bonds to the mortal world were so strong, who’s kind nature held him back. I was a fool for thinking a child could do a god’s work.”

“I’m…” Ratau doesn’t even bother trying to correct his lord. He was a dumb, naïve, weak child. “I’m sorry!” He falls back to his knees, prostrating himself before The One Who Waits. “Please! Give me another chance! I still want to help you! I still believe! I-”

“Silence.” The lord does not growl, he does not shout. He speaks calmly and gently as he addresses Ratau, but looking up at his lord, he can see just how frustrated the god is. “I do not doubt your loyalty. You have served me well. You have slain hundreds of heretics in my name, broken chains and eased my pain, reminded the world that I exist. You have done much, but you will never free me. You lack the conviction, the motivation, the drive to conquer and rule that all other crown bearers have. The crown is better suited for another, the one foretold in the prophecy, a lamb. Their kind is already so low in number, exterminated by the traitors. They will be less likely to have pesky mortal connections to interfere with their work. I will be all that they have or will ever need.”

“Please! I’m still loyal!” Ratau begs, tears still streaming down his face. “I will carry the crown and continue your crusades until you find someone worthy to pass it on to! Just give me another cha-”

“Quiet.” There’s less gentleness in the lord’s voice this time. His decision was final, begging would only make him angry. “You have done your part, but your time as my vessel has ended. Your service will not go unrewarded, but if you truly remain loyal to me, then you will serve me as a mortal.” Lowering his hand once more, he brings it as low as his chains will let him, his fingers resting just above the sand. “Step forward.” He commands.

Ratau pushes to his feet, cautiously approaching The One Who Waits. He doesn’t know what’s about to happen to him, but he doesn’t even know if he cares anymore. Does he even deserve a peaceful end after what he allowed to happen? Once he’s close enough, the god rests one of his large digits just beneath Ratau’s chin, gently lifting it to force Ratau to face him. His touch sends a shiver running through his whole body. He’s unbearably cold.

“You have been touched by death…” The One Who Waits tells him. “While you will live and age as a mortal would, you will live far longer than any member of your kind naturally should. Touched by me, your scent should be masked from the devil that preyed on your flock. If you really are still loyal, if you wish to continue to serve me, you will pray. You will continue to build shrines in my name. You will slay those who oppose me. If the lamb of prophecy should be crowned within your lifetime, I expect you to be there beside them, helping them tend to the flock as they finish what you started.”

Ratau doesn’t trust himself to speak without breaking down again. He’s not getting the crown back, he didn’t deserve it. He failed his people, he failed his lord, he failed everyone. All he could do now was try to keep things going without the crown and hope that he lives long enough to see the lamb who will take up his mantle as the lord’s vessel. He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to find Baal standing beside him.

“You were not cut out for this work, but we are forever grateful for what you’ve done.” He tells Ratau. “With his crown, you have eased our lord's suffering and given him the first shred of hope he’s ever felt since his banishment. Thank you.”

“You showed great promise for a lowly mortal.” Aym comments, trying his best to be consoling even with his typically abrasive attitude. “Live your life knowing that no other mortal that has ever existed has served the lord in such a manner. When your time finally comes, should your soul not be stolen by that devil, you will receive burial rites fit for a warrior of your caliber.”

He isn’t ready. He wants one more chance. He wants to hold onto the crown for just a little bit longer to avenge his elder, to continue fighting against the bishops who ruined his life, to ensure that his flock will be able to last without its power, but there was no talking his way out of this. He was not fit to wear the crown.

“Begone from my sight.” The lord commands, raising his hands. “Until your time comes, this is goodbye. When I have found one worthy enough to wear the crown, I will call upon you once more should you still be alive to witness it.”

“Please…” Ratau bows his head, still unable to stop crying. “I promise. I’ll help the lamb rise to power. I’ll teach them everything I know. I will remain faithful.”

“Goodbye, child.” The lord brings his hands down, and Ratau finds himself falling through darkness, never to see his lord again.

Chapter Text

Ratau does not jolt awake like he normally does whenever he returns from the afterlife. His body aches, his stomach growls, his muscles feel sore and strained. He has to fight to return himself to consciousness. As he does, he feels hands on his face and voices try to push into his head through his swimming thoughts. People were calling his name.

“Wha?” He shakes his head, trying to clear the fogginess in his brain. His attempts at waking up get the attention of the people who are gathered around him and he feels a sudden jolt as cold limbs wrap around him and he’s pulled into a frigid embrace.

“Ratau!” He’s held tight against his brother’s cold and still chest. “Thank the lord you’re still with us! I thought I lost you.” Despite the rest of him being as cold as a corpse, warm tears fall on top of Ratau’s head as his brother silently sobs to himself, beyond relieved to know his little brother is still ok.

“Ratau, honey, are you alright?!” More arms wrap around them both and as Ratau regains his focus, he finds he’s surrounded by almost two dozen people who are all stuffed inside doctor Ikko’s small home. Ches squeezes both of the brothers tight before reaching a hand down to wipe away the tears that have already sprung free from Ratau’s eye. “Are you still hurt at all? Are you ok?”

“I don’t…” Ratau feels tired, weak, unfocused. “I don’t know.”

“Gnat! Get the kid something to eat.” Veatik is somewhere in the crowd and they urge their partner to find food. Ratau is about to shake his head and say that it wouldn’t be necessary, but his stomach growls at him once again. He pulls away from his brother to rest a hand against his restless gut, but as he moves, he takes notice of a lightness on his head. He reaches up and finds his head is bare. No crown rests upon his brow anymore.

The pain in his stomach, the weakness of his limbs, the ache in his body… Without his crown, he no longer has his enhanced strength and abilities. He’s mortal again, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t even remember the last time he ate something. Eating, sleeping, even using the bathroom; he hasn’t had to do any of this for almost a whole year thanks to the crown, but now that it’s gone…

“Hey, Oy?” Lyrcai takes notice of his rising panic and the hand patting his head and turns to the young pup. “Where’d you put his crown? He looks like he’s freaking out a bit.”

“I left it right beside his pillow.” Oy says, slipping past the crowd to check Ratau’s bedding. “Did you knock it over?”

“It’s gone.” Ratau mumbles out. He felt like he cried for hours in the afterlife, but now that he’s been pushed back into his mortal body, he has fresh tears to cry. “He took it from me.”

“That bastard fox?” Ratoo asks, his body tensing against Ratau. “I won't let that monster get close to the village again. You can count on that. I won’t let him hurt any-”

“The One Who Waits.” Ratau interrupts, a sob hitching in his chest. “I wasn’t good enough. He took the crown back.”

Everyone around him falls completely silent. Ratau doesn’t dare meet any of their faces, too afraid to see what their reactions would be. Are they scared now that he lacks the power to protect them? Are they heartbroken to hear that the lord that they dedicated themselves to cast him aside like this? Do they blame him for what he allowed to happen?

“I’m back with cheese!” The silence is interrupted only when Gnatri returns with food as instructed. “There was a whole bunch of stuff just dumped out by the statue. It’s got some dirt on it, but… What’s… What’s going on? Why do you all look like that?”

“What do you…” Lyrcai is the first to speak. “What do you mean he took it back?! The hell have we been praying for then?!”

“Is he keeping it safe?” Oy asks, trying to wrap his head around the sudden disappearance of the crown. “Is he hiding it from the monster?”

“How are…” Ches sounds shaken. “How are we supposed to protect ourselves? That thing nearly killed you even with the crown, what are we supposed to do without it?!”

“Don’t talk like that!” Somewhere deeper in the crowd, Vassago scolds, though they sound fearful themself. “Ratau has done well to protect us, but our faith protects us too! We just… We just have to keep praying. If trouble comes again, he’ll save us, right?”

“I don’t think prayers are gonna cut it, man…” Veatik whines, their peppy attitude starting to crack as panic sets in. “What about Karacyth? The lord would have done anything to protect him since he was being offered to him. Why didn’t he stop that monster? Why didn’t he help Ratau?!”

At the mention of Karacyth’s name, Ratau breaks. Everyone here knew what happened, but they don’t know the full story. He prays that they never ask him. His heart won’t be able to take the guilt if he has to explain to them that their beloved elder didn’t make it to the afterlife to be with their lord.

Unable to do anything else, Ratau finds himself crying once more. He doesn’t know when or if he’ll ever be able to stop.

Ratau stays in bed almost all day. Most of his injuries from the night before were healed before the crown was taken from him, though he still finds his whole body is sore. Maybe he was pushing his body's limits and didn’t notice under the crown’s effects, or maybe he’s just so used to feeling overpowered that he now felt pathetically weak in comparison. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to move around all that much.

While Gnatri left to go get food for him, she found a mountain of random garbage piled in front of the statue. After explaining its contents, Ratau realizes that The One Who Waits cleaned out the crown and dumped everything that Ratau had gathered out before banishing him. All the resources, food, and tools he had worked so hard to gather were still available, but outside of the crown’s void, he isn’t sure how long the food will last. It should hopefully last them until they find a more sustainable source of food.

Ratoo stayed posted at Ikko and Oy’s front door as the two doctors checked over him to make sure he was alright. Without his crown, Ratau was no longer the invincible hero everyone felt safe under. He was just a dumb kid again, one that they know a very bad person was trying to hurt. They no longer had the wisdom of Karacyth to rely on, but even though he no longer had a crown, everyone still turned to Ratau for advice.

“How safe is the forest immediately surrounding the village?” Lyrcai asks him during a quick visit to his bed to ask for guidance. “Ches and I ventured out a little bit when we were first establishing the place, but you’re the expert on the outside world. How far can we go and still be safe?”

“Please…” Ratau finds himself breathless with worry. “Don’t venture out more than a couple miles out of the clearing. It’s very easy to get lost and beasts roam the woods if you venture too deep. Cultists who worship Leshy will give you trouble if they find you out there, but if they learn who you worship or they find out that I’m here, they will kill you. Please, be careful. I don’t want anyone else to die.”

“Neither do I…” Lyrcai assures him before he leaves, venturing out into the nearby woods to forage and scout for trouble. It isn’t long before other people start to come in with questions and problems.

“Ratau? Should we still worship Mr. Waits?” Gnatri is the next person to visit his bedside. “Veatik is understandably frustrated and they’re trying to dissuade others from praying at the shrine. They feel betrayed by what happened and… Maybe they’ll listen to you? The lord still cares about us, right?”

“He still loves us all.” Ratau nods. “He did not cast me aside out of malice. I just wasn’t good enough. A new leader is prophesied to be crowned, one who will hopefully do better than I did. He’s still caring for the dead, he still cares about me, but I understand Veatik’s frustration. Please talk them down for me. We’re all still safe here, nothing bad’s gonna happen.”

“I…” Ratau can see doubt in her eyes, but she forces a smile before bowing to him. “I sure hope so. I’ll tell them what you said.” He’s left to rest once again, getting a final checkup from Oy to make sure that he’s healthy. He’s just about to sit up and leave the bed when someone else steps into the house.

“Ratau…” Ches steps through the door, a relieved smile spreading across her face when she sees him getting up, but Ratau can see a deep hurt etched into her expression. “I’m sorry if it’s… selfish of me to ask this, but… Without your crown, are you unable to bring anyone back? You said my children would be next…”

“I’m…” Ratau feels his heart drop. Ches has been incredibly patient with him, watching as he brought back several other people before her kids. It was constantly pushed off, It would take all day to find them all and once he did, the amount of offered bones required to bring them all back in one go would be ridiculous. Ches insisted that they all needed to come back at once, she didn’t want to separate her children or leave them alone in the afterlife, but without the crown… “I’m so sorry, Ches.” Ratau whines, keeping his head down to avoid seeing Ches’ reaction.

Ches doesn’t say anything back. He hears a single sob escape from her before she leaves the house, leaving Ratau to stew in guilt alone. Karacyth wasn’t the only person he failed. He failed everyone here.

Why are people even still coming to him for advice?

Ches’ visit leaves him stunned for another hour in his room before he regains the courage to step outside. The moment he does, he finds Ratoo is still posted by the door, spear in hand and vigilant. Even in the bright sunshine of the late afternoon, he’s still shivering. That’s another problem he’ll never be able to fix. Without his crown, he can no longer safely travel out of the village to try and find his heart. He’ll never be able to warm his brother’s cold body fully.

“Ratau!” Despite how much he’s failed him, Ratoo pulls his brother into a hug, leeching off his warmth and keeping him close. “Are you hungry? Do you need anything? You don’t have to come out and get it yourself, you know?”

“I need to stretch my legs out.” Ratau says. He isn’t even sure why he’s stepping outside. He’s just going to bump into more people who he can’t help anymore.

“Do you mind if I keep you company then?” Ratoo asks, stepping back and holding out his hand for him to take. “I don’t think anything’s gonna happen in broad daylight, but it would make me feel better if I could keep my eye on you.”

Ratau reaches up and takes his brother’s hand, stepping forward and allowing Ratoo to follow along behind him. Even though he can no longer help him, even though he feels a sense of guilt for being able to walk with him when there are several people in the village who will never see their loved ones now, it was comforting to have his big brother watching over him, ready to protect him from any harm. His crown acted as a constant protector for him and without it he felt incredibly vulnerable.

Despite everything that happened, everyone does their best to keep things going. The mess left behind after last night’s feast is slowly cleaned up and there were at least a dozen people working to clean up and put away everything that was dumped in front of the shrine. As he walks through the Village, Ratau can’t help but notice how quiet everything’s become. At first he thinks it’s the horror of what happened last night that has everyone quiet, but as he passes by the shrine and the few who are kneeling before it, he realizes that he’s no longer hearing their prayers. Reaching out to the statue, he no longer feels the crackle of the devotion stored within it, nor the surge in strength and power that gathering that devotion would have granted him.

Ratau wanders around aimlessly, getting used to the dull soreness in his feet that he never had when he wore the crown. He had to get used to being a mortal again. It hasn’t even been a full year, but it was impossible to ignore how powerless he felt now. He was touched by death and would apparently age slower, but other than his painted on third eye which was still helping him see, he had nothing left. He supposes he still has the talisman hidden in his scarf and there should be another one somewhere in the trash pile everyone was cleaning up, but he almost wanted to get rid of them knowing where he got them from.

His wandering eventually draws him to the homes near the edge of the clearing. Ratau’s pace slows as he realizes where he is and Ratoo tries to pull him away to hide him from the house they were approaching, but Ratau continues to march forward. It’s deathly quiet out here, everyone was avoiding the place like it was cursed. If there’s anything left of the elder, he deserves to have a proper burial, and if no one else will do it…

Even though he’s trying to do the right thing, he drags his feet as he gets closer. Ratoo lets go of his hand, unwilling to get close to the house himself. Ratau doesn’t know if he’ll be able to compose himself once he sees the state of the house, but someone’s gotta do it.

Thankfully, someone already beat him to it. Stepping out of the house with his head hung low is Shrumy. He holds something in his hands, but Ratau’s eye quickly focuses on the tortoise’s face, shocked to see genuine emotion on it over his typical scowl. It doesn’t even drop when Shrumy looks up at Ratau, in fact, he looks grief stricken when he sees him.

“I, uh… take it things weren’t supposed to turn out this way for him?” Shrumy asks, stepping away from the house. “Don’t go in there, Ratau, for your own sake. I saw the state you were left in when that thing slunk off into the woods. You did what you could, but…” Ratau wants to turn away. He isn’t used to seeing Shrumy act like this and he can’t stand being talked down to like this, but before he can leave, Shrumy speaks up. “Where’s the crown?”

“Gone…” Ratau sniffles. “Like you said, I’m just a dumb kid. I wasn’t fit to wear it.”

“That’s not…” Shrumy shakes his head, letting out a low sigh. “That’s not what I said. As much as it probably hurts to lose it, especially with how much people around here seem to rely on you, this is probably for the best. In my opinion, what was being asked of you was barbaric, but it’s certainly better than what the old man got. Forcing someone like you to do that, to have that man’s life in your hands, it isn’t right. You aren’t fit for a crown, you’re better than that. You’re a good guy who wants to look out for your folks, not a power hungry maniac like the rest of the crazies.”

“But I can’t protect anyone like I am now.” Ratau whines. “I needed the crown! Without it, I’m… I’m nothing now.”

“Karacyth thought otherwise.” Shrumy tells him. “I spent all day with the old bastard yesterday. He had a lot to say about you, how proud he was of what you were doing for these people, how selfless you were growing up, and how worried he was about how all this would affect you. He single handedly raised up an entire village and oversaw it for years all without a crown. He believed in you, and…” Raising up his hand, Ratau finally gets a good look at what he’s holding and his heart stops when he recognizes the small statuette. “I can guarantee he was praying for your safety in his last moments.”

Ratau’s hands shook as he reached out for it. Shrumy places it in his hand, holding it to try and help him stop the shaking. The statuette is slightly damaged, one of its ears was chipped and there are red stains where the elder must have gripped it. Ratau instinctively reached for his head to place it into his crown, but he had nowhere to put it. He could only hold on to the blood-soaked wood, feeling fresh tears fall down his face as he stared at it.

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened, Ratau.” Shrumy tells him. “There are some evil bastards in this world, but you’re not one of them. You’re a creepy ass weirdo who dealt with some really shady characters, but you’re a good guy. That three eyed bastard wanted you to be someone you aren’t. Don’t let anyone kill your kind hearted nature, got that? Not the bishops, not your god, not even the bastard who did all this.”

”Don’t let them kill that kindness.”

It’s something that multiple people have told him now, and while he’s tried his best to stay true to it, he isn’t sure it’s helping anyone anymore. His reluctance to sacrifice Karacyth left him vulnerable to the fox, it angered his lord and proved to him that he wasn’t strong enough to be a crown bearer, it convinced the bishops that he wasn’t a threat, that their brother was a fool desperately reaching out for any lifeline to save himself.

Even Clauneck and his cards begged him to remain pure of heart, to not let the cruelty of the world kill his kindness, but was it already too late? He let the power of the crown and his immortality make him complicit, putting him in a position where he thought he could give pieces of himself freely. The deal he struck with the fox not only cost him his eye, but it led to the monster following him home, the hidden conditions in the deal that he did not consider which cost him dearly.

Was his kindness supposed to save Karacyth? Has the final part of his prophecy passed? If so, what was the point? If his year of crusading and service to The One Who Waits ultimately led to nothing, why did the fortune teller and the smith even bother with him? They were divine beasts meant to serve the gods, why would they care about some dumb kid borrowing a crown?

He has to stay true to himself. Clauneck wouldn’t have bothered with the fortune if his fate was to be a failure and a stain on his lord’s reputation. His work had to have meant something, he must still have a purpose in life. No matter what, he must remain kind, no matter how many monsters try to put him down. He’s failed his lord, he’s failed his elder, but he hasn’t failed himself yet. He still has a flock to tend to, and he feels that, maybe years down the line, he will be crucial in helping the next chosen vessel.

Tightening his grip around the statuette, Ratau looks up at Shrumy, tears still streaming down his face but his voice firm. “I need your help to make this place safe for everyone.” He tells him. “The temple needs to be fortified, but other safety measures need to be put in place. We need torches and other light sources around the clearing to prevent dangerous individuals from sneaking in, we need someplace safe to keep our food. I’ll pay you whatever you need to make it happen. Without my crown, the walls you build for us are our only defense.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Shrumy nods grimly, straightening himself out. His stoic facade returns, but it’s notably softer whenever he looks down at Ratau. “I’ve built countless homes in my time and I’ve passed by more ruins than I can count. I’ll do my damndest to make sure this place doesn’t become a ruin too. And don’t worry too much about money. I still expect to be paid, but… consider most of the work I do here as a gift for our old friend. I came here to work, but I’m not gonna shake down scared and desperate people who need someplace safe to stay.”

“Thank you, Shrumy.” Ratau forces himself to suck in a deep breath, lifting his arm up to wipe his tears. “I’m sorry for acting like a dumb kid to you earlier, I’m-”

“Cut that shit out.” Shrumy blurts. “I was being an ass calling you that. You’re more than just a dumb kid, alright? You may still act like one from time to time but I’ve met men far older than you who would have broken at this point. Keep that chin up. You don’t have a crown, but you’re still the leader of this place. You’re stronger than you look, so show everyone that strength now while they’re scared and looking for guidance. Now, I gotta find that big oaf Lyrcai and get him to start laying out the expanded foundations for me. And don’t worry about the house here.” Shrumy turns to look at the now empty home that reeks of spilled blood. “I’ve seen enough to not be bothered by this garbage anymore, you shouldn’t have to subject yourself to cleaning up what remains of your old man.”

A shudder creeps up Ratau’s spine hearing that and he quickly turns away from the grisly scene, returning to his brother’s side who stands close by. Reaching for Ratoo’s hand, he keeps the wooden statuette in his other hand, gripping it tight for comfort. It was a gift he made for the lamb who started this whole mess. He hopes that he’ll live long enough to give it to the one who will hopefully end all of this madness.

Maybe that’s his purpose. Maybe that’s why he was chosen, why the fortune teller cared about him, why fate continues to plead with him to remain kind.

The lambs were already hunted and hated. Maybe the lamb who will be crowned will need his kindness.

Ratau struggles to sleep for his first few nights, same with everyone else.

He had an especially hard time since sleeping wasn’t a thing he needed to do until very recently. There was so much work to be done to ensure Shrumy could finish his projects, but his arms quickly grew sore after chopping away at trees for wood to build with and his body started to slow down as the sun set. There was so much he still wanted to do, that he needed to do, but he no longer had the endurance to keep up. For the first time in almost a year, he needed rest.

Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come easy. As night fell, darkness settled over the clearing and the fox’s words haunted him. His lord promised that his touch would hide him from the fox, but what about the others? Ratoo stands watch outside, a spear in one hand and a torch in his other, the same terrifying questions running through his head. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, and while it was concerning to see so many people wandering around at night with torches to check every corner for monsters, Ratau was grateful that they didn’t leave his brother alone out there.

Still, even with so many people on watch, he was no longer invincible and the fox’s threats weighed heavy on his mind. What if he comes back? Ratau himself might be hidden, but he hasn’t gone anywhere. The fox knows where he lives, where his loved ones live. It’s only a matter of time before he comes stalking back to finish the job.

Several nights pass like this. Night after night, people are restless and roam around the village with lights. Night after Night, Ratau grows even more terrified, convinced that each night would be his last. The mornings can never come soon enough, but every day that follows is rougher than the last.

Through the hardship, Shrumy makes amazing headway on his expansion projects. Focus is pulled away from the temple to instead focus on rebuilding the foundations on people's homes and building up other public buildings, but the temple isn’t used as often anymore anyways. The lord’s grimoire was not left behind and remains within the crown. Even though Ratau was still loyal to his lord and the cause, he struggled to think of anything to tell his flock and often skipped daily sermons. Their main purpose was to feed the crown with devotion, but it was pointless now.

People still pray to the shrine, but the faithful fall in number with each day that passes. Gnatri’s partner Veatik is incredibly vocal about their distaste in everything that’s happened. Ratau used to be able to handle people like them with ease, showing them that he had everything under control and performing rituals and miracles to prove their lord’s power and benevolence. With the crown taken from him and with the whole flock left to fend for themselves, Veatik felt betrayed by their lord and all attempts from Ratau to convince them otherwise fell on deaf ears. It isn’t long before the only ones praying at the shrine are the converts. Even with the loving community and the assurances that they were bound to no one, zealotry and worship were all they knew.

The atmosphere around the village was unrecognizable from what it used to be like before the attack. Everyone used to pray everyday, showing their gratitude to The One Who Waits for the opportunity to build a new home and for giving them the dream of a world no longer under the rule of the Old Faith. Everyone used to look to Ratau with gratitude and awe, inspired by his selflessness and bravery in the face of the dangers outside. Now, everyone lives in fear. Constantly staring off into the woods, waiting for the fox or for cultists of the Old Faith to raid the village. When they look at Ratau, he sees pity in their expressions.

They don’t look at him like a hero or a protector anymore. They just see a scared kid.

It was all becoming too much for him.

Night has fallen once again, and just like with every other night, no one can sleep. Ratau doesn’t even bother trying to go to bed and instead sits beside his brother who stands watch. He’s fallen back into his nocturnal lifestyle, but it’s so much harder on him now than it used to be. The warmth of the sun was one of the few things that could make his heartlessness bearable, but for the sake of his little brother and the village, he’s forcing himself to stand out in the cold to keep watch.

Ratau leans against him as he stares out into the dark, sharing what warmth he can offer.

“I don’t know if this is going to work out…” Ratau says with some worry.

“We’ll be fine.” Ratoo tries to assure him. “It’s like you said, we’re still under the watchful eye of the lord. He won’t let his only congregation fall to ruin. Even if we were left on our own, we’re ready this time. We’re all fighters now, we won’t fall as quickly as we did before.”

“That’s not all I’m worried about.” Ratau shakes his head. “There’s so many dangerous things out there, but I don’t know if we’re self-sustaining yet. You all relied on me to venture out and gather food and materials, but now we can’t leave. I’m terrified of anyone finding this place, because just one look at the shrine of our lord or the statue of the crown up by the locked doors could mean trouble for us. Just one look at either of us might cause trouble.”

“Why us?” Ratoo asks.

“The bishops know what I look like.” Ratau lowers his head. “Well, most of them. Leshy knows what I smell like. The point is that they know who I am and who I serve and they want me dead. They want every trace of their brother erased from history. All of us will be killed if word gets out that we worship a god outside of the Old Faith. Even someone who passes through and means no ill will towards us could be killed for simply knowing we exist. I know you’re strong, we have a good thing going here, but if the bishops ever find out that we worship The One Who Waits here, they will personally tear this whole place down. It doesn’t matter how strong we are, it wouldn’t even matter if I still had the crown. If the bishops find me…”

Ratoo has nothing to say to that. Looking up at him, Ratau finds him tightening his grip around his spear. He doesn’t want to scare anyone, but he knows the dangers that lurk in the Darkwood. The crown was their only real line of defense if anyone came knocking. Without it, they were even more vulnerable now than they were back in the old village. They had fewer people, less places to hide, and among their number was someone the bishops hated even more than the lambs.

“I think…” Ratau shudders as the thought crosses his mind, but it lingers in his head. “I think it would be best for everyone here if I left.”

“What?!” Ratoo immediately turns to stare down at his brother in shock. “Why would you… what would that-”

“I’m no leader.” Ratau shakes his head. “Even with the crown, I got Karacyth killed. The only reason anyone looked up to me was because I had the power to protect and provide for them, but now… Now I’m just a liability. I can swing an axe, I can work the fields, I know enough about the forest to forage somewhat safely, but just existing in the same space as all of you is putting you all in danger. The fox is going to come looking for me again, I don’t want anyone else to be taken by him. I need to draw his attention elsewhere.”

“No!” Ratoo lets go of his spear to free a hand to hold his brother close. “No no no! You’re just… All of this stuff is just getting to your head, alright? We’re fine here, we’re thriving. We need you here, Ratau. I need you here.”

“Come with me then.” Ratau says. “You look a bit older, but the bishops and their cultists will notice your resemblance to me. Maybe we both should go.”

“We’re not going anywhere!” Ratoo shouts, jostling Ratau to try and shake some sense into him. “You said so yourself, The One Who Waits still watches over us! The bishops aren’t going to find us here, you aren’t threatening us with your presence, you-”

“The lamb you brought home with you never meant to hurt anyone either.” Ratau says, silencing his brother. “They were just a kid. We gave them food and shelter, but all it took was one person, someone you trusted, to tear our home apart. Who’s to say that it won’t happen again? What if the cults come around and ask for me? People like Vassago and Amy were forced into service for their own safety. What if someone decides handing me over in exchange for the rest of the flock’s safety is a deal they’re willing to make?”

Once again, Ratoo is left silent. He looks hurt, physically hurt by the example that Ratau gave, causing him to feel a crushing pang of guilt in his chest. He feels awful about bringing Hathor into the conversation, but it was a valid worry. Ratoo loved her, and while Ratau didn’t care much for her, he overheard the meeting she had and she thought working directly with the cultists could prevent something bad from happening. All it would take is one misguided follower or an angry dissenter to bring this place to ruin.

Unlike the lamb though, Ratau was strong enough to make it out on his own. Even the wise and kind Karacyth planned on sending the lamb away once they were old enough to fend for themself. As long as the Old Faith was still in power, it wasn’t safe for him to be here. The best way he can guarantee his friends’ safety is by exiling himself and hiding away from the cults and the fox.

He hated the idea. He wanted to stay here with his friends, to try and keep the peace even without his power to protect them, but his lord has made it abundantly clear to him that his good intentions won’t get him far. This was a cruel world ruled over by monsters. He loved everyone here, more than anything he wanted to keep them safe.

He has to leave.

“Wh…” Ratoo sniffles beside him and Ratau feels his heart stutter when he realizes his older brother is crying. “Where would you go?” He asks, unable to keep his voice steady. “How would you stay safe?”

“I’ll go with Shrumy when his work here is done.” Ratau says, looking over at the newly renovated temple. “He knows his way around the Darkwood. I’ll have him build me a good hiding place away from prying eyes, someplace where I’ll be safe as I await the next crown bearer. You could join me there too if you wish.”

“But…” Ratoo looks out towards the few people who can’t sleep, wandering the clearing with lights to try and ease their troubled minds. He looks back down at Ratau, tears streaming down his face. He looks torn. “I can’t leave these people. They need someone to look up to. I was their protector and I can take that mantle again, but… I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t either.” Ratau whines, leaning into his brother. He didn’t want to leave or lose anyone, but this was the only way he could keep everyone safe. “I won’t be leaving too soon. Shrumy still has lots of work to do and… I have some business I need to finish with everyone here before I go. And, while I’m still up…”

Ratau takes his brother’s hand and starts leading him towards the statue in the center of the clearing. Most of the junk has been cleaned up and put away, but what’s left is the stuff people either didn’t know what to do with or were too scared to touch. Letting go of Ratoo to sift through the now useless bones he collected for rituals and discarded jewelry. Picking through the bones, he eventually finds it; the last gift Karacyth gave to him before he died. Turning around, he offers the elder’s bone necklace to his brother.

“Maybe it isn’t right to give you this.” Ratau warns before his brother can take it. “Karacyth lived far longer than any mortal should, outliving everyone he loved. I still have work to do and I’m under the same spell this necklace will grant you. I do not know how long it will take for the next vessel to be crowned, but… I don’t want to watch you grow old without me. Maybe it’s selfish of me to have you extend your life for my sake, but-”

Before Ratau can go on, Ratoo takes the offered necklace, freeing up his hands to tie it around his neck. He rests a hand over the small skull at its center, shuddering slightly.

“You’re all I have left.” Ratoo informs him. “Most of the people I swore to protect are gone, our elder is dead, and… My lover has stolen away my heart, ensuring I will never love again. I have so little left to lose, but I still have you. I’ll wear it for as long as you still draw breath. Even if everything else falls apart, I’ll push on for your sake.”

“Thank you…” Ratau nods, looking back down at the pile and continuing his search. There’s one more gift he’d like to give, one that didn’t double as a curse.

Digging through the jewelry, he uncovers the holy talisman the fox gave him for his eye. Knowing the cost of this stupid thing made him want to throw it in the fire, but it was too precious to waste. He holds it out to his brother, placing it into his hand.

“Have Lyrcai knit this into something for you.” He pleads. “It’s a protective charm created by the lord himself. I have one of my own and it’s saved my life more than once. If you’re going to stay and remain as the village’s protector, I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Come on Ratau, you don’t gotta shower me with gifts to try to win me over.” Ratoo sighs. “It isn’t gonna make this easier on me.”

“I know…” Ratau sniffles. “No amount of trinkets can replace me, but I can’t stay. I’m sure we’ll meet again. Fate favored me once and allowed me to find you after we were first separated. Maybe I will return here to check up on everyone, maybe you will venture out to find me. Maybe our paths will cross in the Darkwood. I must still serve our lord, but maybe you’ll set out on your own quest.”

Ratoo rests a hand on his still chest. “Perhaps one day…” He shakes his head, holding the holy talisman close as he reaches for Ratau’s hand again. “Come on, please try and get some sleep. Maybe you’ll come back to your senses and realize you’re better off with us in the morning.”

He won’t. Ratau was dead set on this. Sacrifices had to be made, especially after his failures. He needed to exile himself in order to keep his friends and family safe. His loneliness was a fair price to pay for their lives.

His heart weighs heavy in his chest as he’s walked back home and he’s emotionally exhausted enough to collapse once he’s in bed. As he drifted off, he prayed to his lord to keep everyone here safe while he’s away on his holy mission. He doesn’t know if his prayers mean much anymore or if his lord can even help without a vessel to enact his will, but he prays anyways.

No matter how hurt he feels, how powerless he is now, he knows his lord is kind. His faith and dedication will be rewarded in time. When the lamb comes to continue his crusade, maybe then he’ll be able to return home, knowing that the new crown bearer will be able to protect his flock.

One day his kindness will be repaid…

Another week passes before Shrumy is satisfied with his work. The temple has nearly doubled in size, allowing everyone to fit in much more comfortably. The rickety foundations of everyone’s homes are restructured and fortified and rudimentary locks are placed on each and every door. The village has never looked nicer.

It was just a shame that Ratau wouldn’t be here to appreciate it for much longer.

Gathering everyone up into the newly expanded temple, Ratau readies himself to give his final sermon. Perhaps he should have canceled the renovation work, but at the very least, this place will serve as a sturdy shelter to his flock. It takes a while for everyone to arrive. It’s been a while since he’s held a sermon and some were so disillusioned that they didn’t even want to bother, but Ratoo and even Shrumy make sure everyone shows up to hear his announcement.

Ratau shrinks under the collective gaze of his flock. There were so many worried and fearful looks amongst them, but he no longer had the power to assure them that things would be alright. What he was about to say was liable to make them feel even worse. Taking in a deep breath, he breaks the news to his people.

“I am going to be leaving the village. I won’t be coming back.”

Two sentences, short and concise, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Almost immediately, people begin trying to change his mind.

“Woah woah, wait a minute! Why are you leaving?!”
“Wait, why?! Why are you leaving?! Is it not safe here?!”
“Kid, it’s dangerous out there! You don’t have the crown anymore, you can’t leave!”
“What are we gonna do without you?”
“Ratau, hun, please reconsider this!”
“Ratau, where are you going?”
“Ratau?”

“I…” Ratau struggles to raise his voice over the sudden outcry after his announcement. Everyone, even those who started to lose faith in this place, were begging him to stay. He didn’t want to leave them and they didn’t want him to leave either, but sacrifices had to be made. “I can no longer protect you or this village anymore, but I am still being hunted by the Old Faith. I cannot stay here, or else I risk bringing harm to all of you, just as the young lamb my brother rescued led to the destruction of our last home. I do not want to leave you, I cherish you all as much as you do me, but I do not want any of you to get hurt.”

“Ratoo!” Within the crowd, Ches turns to Ratoo to get his attention. “Please, talk some sense into your brother! Make him stay!”

“I’ve tried all week.” He sighs. “He won’t budge. He’s leaving.”

“You…” Ches is on the verge of tears. “You’re just letting him go?!”

“I hate this too, Ches.” Ratau tries his best to calm her down from the stand. “Even if I still had the crown, even if that monster didn’t sneak into our home, I still have a duty to the lord. I am not his prophesied liberator, it is my job to find them and I cannot do that here. I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” Many try to convince him otherwise, but he continues on before they can get far. “Do not worry about me. While I am no longer crowned, I still have a holy purpose and have been granted protections by our lord. I have been preparing for my departure for some time now and I will not be venturing alone. Shrumy has done incredible work here to ensure the safety of our village and just as he has helped protect you, he will protect me as well. I’d argue he knows his way around the Darkwood more than I do considering how frequently he travels it without divine strength.”

“Damn right I do.” Shrumy nods his head. “Trust me folks, I spent thirty years trekking through these damn woods. Your little leader ain’t getting hurt on my watch.”

“I will depart before noon today.” Ratau wraps up his announcement, moving to step down from the stand. “If there’s anything you would like to say to me before I leave, this is your only chance.”

He doesn’t even get the chance to step down before Ches hurries forward and wraps him in her arms, squeezing him tight and refusing to let go.

“Please Ratau, please!” She sobs into his shoulder. “Please don’t go. You’re going to worry me to death if you aren’t here with the rest of us, please! I can’t lose another child!”

“I’m sorry Ches.” Ratau hugs her back, understanding the pain she’s going through. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to bring those you cared for back and I’d hate for you to have to say goodbye to more children, but I have to go. There are other children in this flock who would be in danger if I stayed. I’m doing this for them.”

“Ratau, this is…” Lyrcai steps forward, reaching out to help Ratau down. Ches still holds him tight and Lyrcai doesn’t have the heart to pull him away from her. “There’s gotta be a better way. This is insane. You were the one leading this whole operation. You’re the one who communes with the lord, we need your guidance!”

“Do we really?” Veatik asks, sounding very frustrated. “Our lord decided Ratau was useless and tossed him aside. Forget about him!”

“Veatik…” Gnatri mumbles at her partner's side, trying to calm them down. “Ratau said so himself. Mr. Waits still cares about us.”

“How the hell are we supposed to know that?!” Veatik asks, raising their voice. “He dumped all his shit on our shrine, took away our only real means of protection, and now Ratau’s trying to run away because he thinks he’s going to hurt us! We don’t need the big bastard. We need to focus on ourselves!”

“Do not voice such blasphemous thoughts aloud!” Vassago pleads, their voice sounding strained. “The gods do not take kindly to such talk.”

“Just, stop arguing, please!” Gnatri begs and in an instant, a lot of Veatik’s frustration bleeds out of them. They reach down and hold her hand when they realize that she’s shaking. “Ratau… I was a nervous wreck after I lost my home and my beloved Veatik. You made everything ok, you proved to me that the lord cared about me and that everything was going to be ok. I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay strong without your kind words.”

“Of course you will.” Ratau assures her. “While I don’t agree with your partner’s dismissal in The One Who Waits, you do have everything you need here to flourish. Ches has done amazing work with the farms and you’ll be able to harvest soon. Shrumy has built up your homes and there are plenty of capable fighters within the flock like my brother who will do everything they can to keep you safe. The lord still cares for you, you’ll be alright, all of you.”

“You…” Stepping through the crowd, Oy makes his presence known. “You’ve done so much for us. It’s not fair that you have to leave.”

“Life isn’t fair…” Ratau nods in agreement, sharing the young pup’s same frustration. “I’m still trying to help, this just doesn’t feel as good as bringing your father back.” Oy whimpers, but nods his head in understanding. Ratau always did what he could to help others, this was no different.

There isn’t a single person within the temple who lets him go without saying something. They thank him for introducing them to The One Who Waits, for giving them a home, for giving them hope after they lost everything. Even the converts, even Amy who he rescued the day before he lost the crown are grateful for his rescue and promise to pray for his continued safety when he’s gone.

The last person who stands in his way before he can leave the temple is Ratoo. He’s known about this trip for a week now and even helped Ratau make the necessary preparations, but he’s fought with him every step of the way. Every single day, Ratoo tried to convince him that he could still stay, that they could hide him away somewhere in the village so that no one would find him, but Ratau stuck with his decision.

Ratoo doesn’t offer any final objections or pleas for him to stay. Instead, he just holds his arms wide, desperate for one last hug.

Ratau embraces his brother, holding him tight and sharing all the warmth he can with him. He prays that everyone will show him the same love when he’s gone, that despite how cold he feels, they’ll still give him the warmth he needs.

“I’m gonna miss my baby brother…” Ratoo says softly.

“I’ll miss you too.” Ratau nods, feeling his heart ache as his departure draws closer. “I promise, the first chance I get, I’ll come back to see you again.”

“This won’t be the last time we see each other.” Ratoo nods in agreement. “Maybe one day when this place feels a little safer, I’ll come looking for you.”

Ratau doesn’t want to let go. He wants to hold onto Ratoo forever, to run off with him so he doesn’t have to abandon the only family he has, but he can’t leave this place without someone to watch over it. Shrumy stands by the door, looking a little impatient but he doesn’t say anything to try and move things along, allowing Ratau all the time he needs.

The sun hangs high over the clearing. Ratau and Shrumy would need as much sunlight as they could get to travel the Darkwood safely. With great reluctance, Ratau pulls away from his brother.

Stepping outside, he makes his way to the shrine where Ratoo has left his bags. Staring up at the stone visage of his lord, he prays to the One Who Waits one more time to watch over his flock while he’s away before shouldering his bags. As he does, those who followed him out of the temple to see him off pray for his safe travels.

With his stuff packed, Ratau ventures in the opposite direction of the old shrine and the door to the Darkwood. As convenient as the door was for his crusades, getting dumped in a random spot in the middle of the Darkwood wasn’t what he wanted. Instead, he walks towards the edge of the clearing along with Shrumy who will be leading this adventure outside of the village. This way Shrumy will be able to navigate accurately, but Ratau will also be able to retrace his steps back to this village whenever it becomes safe to do so.

Standing at the very edge of the clearing before the trees start to close in, Ratau stops to look back at his flock one last time. Every single one of them has followed him this far.

“If we want this done today, we don’t have time to give everyone goodbye hugs.” Shrumy reminds Ratau, his patience wearing thin. With a shaking breath, Ratau looks over everyone for one last time.

Ratau gives everyone a wave. “If this is the last time we ever meet, I hope you’ll all be waiting for me in our lord’s kingdom when our time comes. Goodbye, everyone…”

Some break into tears, others beg fruitlessly one last time to make him stay. Most just wave back, understanding that this decision was final and saying their final goodbyes.

With a heavy heart, Ratau turns his back on them and steps into the woods.

Hours pass in silence between Ratau and Shrumy, the ambience of the woods around them only being broken by the occasional sniffle or sob as it sinks in just how permanent this decision is for the young rat. He misses them all already, he wants to go back. He wants to blame his lord for this, for taking away his power and preventing him from protecting those he loved, but he couldn’t do that. His lord still loved him, he took the crown back for a reason. He has to trust that everyone will be alright without him.

“Ratau…” It isn’t until the sun threatens to dip over the horizon that Shrumy speaks up. “You really are somethin’, you know that?” Ratau looks up at him, raising a brow and waiting for him to elaborate. “There are some real selfish assholes out here who would gladly sell their own mothers for thirty gold coins if they were offered. You had enough power to take whatever you damn well pleased but you still only ever thought about helping your folks out. Finding someone who’s willing to stick their neck out for others is hard enough, but you’ve just given up everything for your friends back there. You’re a good guy, Ratau. Probably the best man I’ve met on this shitheap.”

“Thank you…” Ratau tries to compose himself and focuses on the woods around him. It’s dangerous out here, he needs to remain vigilant. “How long are we going to be walking?”

“A few days at least.” Shrumy informs. “Over the years, I’ve mapped out a few decent camping spots that are out of the way from the main roads and are hard to spot from a distance. The specific spot I’m taking you is actually a favorite of mine and it’s a place I’ve spent a good amount of time in, especially now that the Old Faith is cracking down on the place looking for you.”

“I don’t want to take your favorite spot.” Ratau tries to argue, but Shrumy shuts him down pretty quickly.

“You won’t be staying there for free.” Shrumy says with a smirk. “I’ve got a few trading partners who come and go through the woods here too who need places to stay. You seem to be the hospitable type, you won’t mind having a few visitors now and then, right?”

“Well, no, but…” Ratau shakes his head. “The whole reason I left is because associating with me is dangerous.”

“Trust me Ratau, the Old Faith already don’t like us.” Shrumy assures him. “We’re all tight lipped and very secretive about who our business partners are and what we trade. None of these folks are gonna snitch, especially once they learn that I’m the one who’s gonna help build the place up for you. This is going to be your new home, but also a rest stop for weary travelers like me. You weren’t really going to isolate yourself all alone out here, were you? Can’t deprive the world of your good company.”

“I guess I can work with that.” Ratau nods, glancing up at the sky to find the sun has sunk below the trees. “Do you think they can help me stay in touch with my friends back home?”

“I can guarantee that they’ll want to do trade with your folks and pass messages between you.” Shrumy tells him. “Trust me, they’ll be quick and discreet about it. They won’t be in any more danger than they normally are on the job and they won’t bring too much attention to your village. I’m sure your brother and everyone back home will be pleased to hear that you’re doing alright out here.” Looking up, Shrumy takes notice of the fading sunlight and comes to a stop. “Let’s stop here for the night. We’ll keep moving tomorrow morning.”

“We should still have a couple hours of light left.” Ratau reasons. “Camp won’t take that long to set up, will it?”

“Nah, but my feet hurt and I’m bored.” Shrumy says, finding a clear patch of grass before setting himself down. “Also, you’re one of like four people I know who can play Knucklebones. Hell, that alone is probably enough to make the rest of my trading buddies like you. Come on, you’ve looked miserable all damn day, let’s play a game or three before we get a fire going. You packed the old man’s dice into your bag, right?”

As Shrumy sets himself down and pulls a small board free from his shell, Ratau shrugs off one of his bags and sifts through it. While preparations were still being made for his sacrifice, Karacyth told Ratau that his prized dice would become his once he passed. Even though it was passed down to him, he felt almost guilty having it, knowing that he never delivered the peaceful end that was promised to the elder. No one else in the village knew how to play though and he doubts Karacyth would have wanted them to gather dust in his empty home.

A game of Knucklebones always brought him joy, and knowing that the people he’d be working with from this point on also knew how to play was a nice surprise. It’ll make his isolation out here a bit more manageable.

Maybe whenever the Red Crown finds a new vessel, he’ll teach them how to play too.

Chapter Text

As the morning sun rises, Ratau leaves the safety of his home with two buckets in hand, venturing into the thicket to make the short hike towards the local stream. As secluded and safe as this location was, the distance between his home and fresh water was easily the worst part of Ratau’s new living situation. A twenty minute hike to the stream and back was worth the security of the place, but if Shrumy was allowed to complain, so was he.

He’s probably made this trip hundreds of times over the few years he’s spent out here so he travels through the bramble with practiced grace. He knew the location of every sudden drop, every steep hill, every loose rock that could trip him up. It used to take him hours to get clean water back home, but he’s confident that he could make it to the river and back in half an hour with his eyes closed now.

Even with how frequently he travels this path, he still remains vigilant. Barely anything ventured out this far into his stretch of the woods, but every once in a while there would be a hungry beast hunting through the woods or a small band of lost travelers looking for the road again. Anyone worth approaching already knew the location of his home so unless he recognized whoever he spotted in the woods he hid himself away until they moved on.

He really wishes he could make a few more friends out here, but it was for their own good that he stayed away.

Thankfully, he makes it to the stream with no trouble at all, dunking each bucket into the stream to fill them up before checking on his fishing traps. It looks like he’s caught a big one! With fresh water and lunch gathered for the day, Ratau makes his way back home with his haul.

He isn’t quite sure how long he’s been at this, but there isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t miss everyone back at the village. Shrumy and the business partners of his who occasionally stop by have ventured out to make contact with his old village but it’s been several months since he last heard back from them. Back in late autumn, a young snake named Flinky came to visit along with Shrumy and he shared his story about his brief stay in the village.

Not too much has changed in the years Ratau’s been gone. Some people left for brighter pastures, there were a few newcomers who gladly joined the community to escape the Old Faith. Ratau was mostly interested in hearing about his brother. Ratoo took up the mantle of leader shortly after Ratau left. According to Flinky, his brother was hospitable and kind, but also very intimidating. He secluded himself, only stepping out to address problems within the community and to patrol at night. He walked around everywhere with a thick black cloak to try and keep warm and wore a tall black hat with a heart embroidered on it. If Ratau had to guess, the hat must be where the talisman he gifted him resided in.

When Ratoo heard that Flinky was a friend of Ratau’s and would be visiting him before winter, he told him to send a message. The village is thriving, they have been doing well for themselves, but they all miss him dearly.

It’s been long enough, things have quieted down. It wouldn’t hurt to pay them a visit, would it?

Maybe the next time one of the traders are heading their way, Ratau will tag along. He desperately wants to see his brother again, a brief weekend visit before he retreats back into hiding won’t kill anyone.

He hopes…

Making it back home, he steps through the front door before the sun can peek over the trees. His home was little more than a small shack made of bound twigs, straw, and clay, but the iron furnace in the corner kept it cozy during the cold winter months. Setting one of the buckets of water beside the door for later, Ratau takes the one still in his hands towards the stove. Filling a kettle and adding a few of the fancy tea leaves Shrumy left for him during his last visit, Ratau sets it to boil. While he waits, he sits himself down at the table in the center of his small home to continue working on his current project.

It gets incredibly lonely and boring out here and Ratau has had to find ways to keep his mind occupied. He’s taken up whittling again, carving out little charms, toys, and trinkets out of wood which are often taken and traded for by his visiting friends. It keeps him busy, supports his friends’ business, and it brings him joy knowing that the small toys he carves out could be in the hands of children, bringing joy into their harsh lives out in these lands.

Outside of whittling, he was also given a few books and paper. He was still practicing his ability to read and write, but he’s already read through everything in his collection three times over. He’s tried writing some things of his own, including a letter he wanted to send to his brother, but he can never think of what to write. He supposes it’s pointless now that he’s planning on making a trip up there on his own.

He’s taken to a new hobby though to use up the paper he has lying around; origami. One of Shrumy’s other trader friends folded up some origami cranes while Ratau made supper and he instantly became fascinated by the craft. He isn’t very good at it, most of what he makes turns out as slightly fancy crumpled balls of paper, but he’s getting better and he’s now working on something he’s been meaning to work on for a while.

He was making himself a new crown.

Even after all these years, he still finds himself reaching up for his crown on occasion. During his time as its bearer, the Red Crown had almost become an extension of himself. Hell, its absence was more noticeable than his missing eye sometimes. A crown made of folded paper would hardly compare to his battle companion and his gift from the lord, but he wasn’t afforded many comforts all alone out here. Having a crown resting on his head again would make him feel that little bit better.

The kettle on the stove starts to whistle and he stands up to take it off the heat, but the moment he does, he hears something that freezes him solid.

There’s a knock on his door.

He stares at the door, his legs not wanting to move. It’s been a while since anyone came to visit, but it was far too early in the morning for one of the traders to have made their way here. He remains still until there’s another series of knocks. Three slow, drawn out bangs against the door. The wood creaked slightly, whoever was on the other side was leaning against the door.

Reaching towards the table, Ratau grabs his whittling knife before approaching the door. He doesn’t want to believe that it’s anything dangerous, he’s been out here for years without trouble and all the new friends he made gave him a jolt when they first came across this place, but he has a gut feeling that whatever’s behind the door is something he isn’t going to like.

Bracing himself for the worst, he turns the door knob and cracks the door open to peek outside, reading his whittling knife behind him.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he found.

He was almost completely unrecognizable at first. He was covered head to toe in filth and blood and he struggled to stand, leaning heavily on the doorframe for support. Beneath his hood and hat, a single teary and sunken eye stares back at Ratau. He doesn’t want to believe it’s him, but when he slumps off of the doorframe and falls into Ratau’s arms, he shudders from his cold touch.

“Ratoo?!” Ratau feels his heart lodge itself in his throat with panic as his older brother collapses into his arms, nearly taking him to the ground. Ratau manages to stay on his feet and he drags his brother inside before gently laying him down on the floor and shutting the door behind him. His hands shake, he gasps for air but none of it seems to reach his chest. He’s too shocked to even cry. He just kneels down beside his brother, holding him and trying to make sense of what’s going on.

“Good to…” Ratoo struggles to croak out his words, his one eye barely able to focus on Ratau. “...See you safe, Ratau…”

He’s still alive, but he’s clearly in pain. Ratau still isn’t quite sure what to do, but in a brief moment of lucidity, he remembers the talisman in his scarf and quickly unwraps it from his neck to lay it over Ratoo. The tenseness in Ratoo’s shoulders starts to ease up as the magical talisman soothes his pain. Ratau starts to breathe a little easier knowing that he’s helping, only for him to fall into panic again when he realizes that Ratoo doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

“Ratoo?!” Ratau reaches out to rest his hand against his brother’s chest, praying that he’ll feel it rise and fall. He stops breathing as well when his hands seem to sink into his brother’s robe. It felt like there was nothing underneath it.

“I’m alright…” Ratoo groans, trying to reach up and take Ratau’s hand to calm him down. “I’ll be fine…”

“Ratoo, what happened?!” Ratau can’t accept his word. He was beaten and bloody and couldn’t even stand on his own. He wasn’t breathing, he could barely even get a full sentence out. His brother looked like a moving corpse. Despite how weak and pained he looked, Ratoo manages to take hold of his little brother’s hand and squeezes it tight.

“I made sure as many got out as possible…” Ratoo says, struggling to push himself upright. “I didn’t stop until they were all safe.”

“What happened?!” Ratau repeats again, dragging his brother across the floor to try and get him to his bed. He was beyond happy to see his brother again, but until Ratoo starts making sense and explains what’s going on, he fears that this might also be the last time he sees him alive. Ratoo strains himself trying to get into bed, but once he’s settled, he wraps Ratau’s scarf around him tightly and readjusts the pointed hat on his head. He still hasn’t taken a breath.

“I don’t…” Ratoo sinks into the mattress. “I can’t… not yet.” He groans, resting his head against the pillow. “Just let me-”

“No no!” Ratau jostles Ratoo back awake. “Please! Stay with me, don’t go!”

“I’m…” Ratoo grumbles. “I’m not going. The lord can’t have me yet. I’ve endured worse, I’ll live. Please, let me rest… It’s been a long walk.”

“B-but…” Ratau looks around the room, desperate to find something that might help when he spots the kettle. “Let me get you something to drink first at least. Something to get your strength up.”

Ratoo opens his mouth to protest, but Ratau is already getting up to pour him a drink. As long as he’s awake and conscious, he won’t slip away from him. Finding a cup and trying his best to still the shaking in his hands so he doesn’t spill, he gets a cup of warm tea ready and brings it back over to his brother. He looks reluctant to drink, but seeing how worried Ratau is for him, he eventually takes the offered cup and takes a sip. A look of blissful relief spreads across his face almost immediately, but Ratau is unable to feel the same sense of relief.

He hears something spill and Ratoo quickly reaches down to his chest, wincing in pain.

“Are you still hurt?!” Ratau asks in a panic, reaching for his brother’s robes to try and pull them aside and assess the damage. If he’s bleeding, he should have something to bandage him up until the talisman seals the wounds for him. Ratoo tries to stop him, but with a drink in his hand that he doesn’t want to spill, he’s unable to stop Ratau from pulling up his robe and finding…

Nothing…

There’s nothing there… No heart, no lungs… There’s a hole straight through his brother where he can see the tea that Ratoo just drank spilled right out of him and onto the mattress beneath him.

Ratoo quickly covers himself up again, wrapping his arms around himself and the empty cavity in his chest. “Please Ratau…” He pleads. “I’ll live. Just let me sleep. I’ve been through hell, I need the rest. I promise, I’ll wake up again and tell you everything.” Ratau remains quiet, stuck in a stunned silence as his brother curls up onto the bed, tugging the sheets over himself. Ratoo opens up his eye to glance over at Ratau before breaking into a weak smile. “You’ve grown so much, baby brother. I missed you…”

“I missed you too.” Ratau nods, watching as sleep slowly takes Ratoo.

At least, he hopes it’s sleep that takes him.

Ratau thinks he stares at his brother for a full hour before he’s reminded that he still has breakfast to make and chores to tend to. His brother is so still and pale that he’s sure that he won’t wake up, but every once in a while Ratoo will scratch his cheek or shift in bed. He has no idea if this is due to his botched resurrection, the talisman hidden in his hat, or maybe a blessing from The One Who Waits, but Ratoo should not still be animate as he is now. His missing heart was one thing, but there was a hole clean through him where vital organs should be. This had to be the work of some kind of miracle, but it’s leaving his brother in pain.

What happened back home? There’s a reason he came all this way to find him. Something bad happened. It wasn’t that long ago that he heard good news, what happened in that time? How the hell did Ratoo even find his way here?

He tries his best to busy himself, but it’s impossible to take his eye off Ratoo. He wants to shake him awake to be sure he’s alive, to force answers out of him to know what befell the village, but he doesn’t want to wake his brother from the rest he desperately needs. He wants to help him somehow, but he isn’t sure what he could do. He looked like he enjoyed the tea, but it spilled right out of him. He’s doubtful he could eat either.

Having fresh water on hand, Ratau settles for trying to clean up his brother, dampening a cloth and wiping away the blood and dirt that clung to his fur as he sleeps. He stirs slightly, agitated by the damp cloth on his face, but he doesn’t stop him.

Ratau is so focused on trying to tend to his brother that he barely notices a knock on the door and is only drawn to attention when it’s pushed open.

“Ratau? Are you ho-” Ratau shoots upright, reaching for the table to rearm himself with his whittling knife to fight off what his panicked mind assumes to be the same people who hurt his brother, but he instead finds Shrumy. “Alright, that’s my fault for barging in. I’m just in a rush to get out of… Holy hell… Is that who I think it is?!”

Ratau forces himself to take a deep breath and set the knife back down on the table. He was expecting Shrumy or one of his friends to visit any day now with how nice the weather was getting, but he caught him at a really bad time. Ratoo still sleeps through the sudden entrance of the tortoise, remaining completely still.

“I’m… so sorry, Ratau.” Shrumy rests a hand on Ratau’s shoulder, shaking his head solemnly. “He was a good man. I’m sure he’s-”

“He’s not dead!” Ratau blurts out, his voice coming out a bit too strained for his liking. “He’s not, he’s… He’s just tired. He said he needed some rest before he explained what happened.”

“Kid…” Shrumy sighs and Ratau can’t help but glare at him. He was well into adulthood, he was by no means a child. “I’m sorry, but he must have passed in his sleep.” Shrumy tries to tell him, stepping forward to reach for Ratoo’s neck to check for a pulse. “I know you probably don’t want to accept that, but-”

The moment Shrumy’s hand touches Ratoo’s neck, his eye snaps open and his arm shoots out from beneath the covers to grab hold of Shrumy’s wrist. Shrumy hollers in shock, nearly falling over in the process, but the hand on his wrist keeps him by the bedside for Ratoo to identify the potential threat. Recognition flashes in his eye and he lets Shrumy go, though his hand shakes even after proving to himself that he’s safe. He hides his shaking hands beneath the covers and turns himself around, turning his back on the tortoise and Ratau.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that…” Ratoo says with a shudder. It sounds like a threat just as much as it sounds like a plea. “I might hurt you…”

“Fuckin’ hell, I’m gonna have a damn heart attack sticking around you weirdos!” Shrumy gasps as Ratau helps him steady himself. “The hell happened to you? I was convinced you were a corpse when I walked in here. Hell, I’m still not entirely convinced you’re alive. Why are your hands so damn cold?!”

“I don’t…” Ratoo doesn’t turn to face them and instead curls up tighter on the bed. “I don’t know… I should be dead.”

“Ratoo…” Ratau approaches his brother but holds off on reaching out to him, not wanting to startle him again. “What happened to you? Why aren’t you back home with the others? Is everything alright?”

“Those bastards blew through the village looking for the lambs, didn’t they?” Shrumy asks with anger in his voice. Ratau looks up at him, pressing him to elaborate. “The whole Darkwood is falling apart right now. News is that a whole herd of lambs and sheep came into the area from their hiding places in the Silk Cradle and the crazies are tearing the whole place up looking for them. Doesn’t matter who you are, you’ll get shaken down or beaten if you don’t cooperate. Even Pilgrim’s Passage all the way down south has been torn apart. Hell, a ship crashed into the pier after some of the crazies took out the lighthouse. I’m not even sure if the lambs actually exist or not. Haven’t seen any myself and I feel like news would spread if they actually managed to find one.”

Ratau is left stunned by the news. More lambs, more innocent people being hunted and inadvertently hurting others in the process. Shrumy’s comment about not even knowing if they were real hurts even more. The mere thought of there being lambs to hunt would be more than enough of an excuse for them to start tearing through people’s homes in search of them.

“Ratoo?” He desperately wants Shrumy to be wrong. There wouldn’t be any lambs in the village, but if the zealots found out who they worshiped, they’d all be slaughtered as heretics. “Everyone back home is still ok, right?”

“Some of them are…” Ratoo says, his voice sounding as hollow as his chest. “I fought with everything I had to save as many as I could. Swords and spears tore into my flesh, but I didn’t let it take me down. I wasn’t able to save everyone, but the group I was protecting made it out…” Ratoo turns his head to face Ratau. He was crying. “I only know of eight who survived.”

Ratau feels his heart sink. Only eight?! There were forty when he last saw the village and Flinky said that the place had grown in his absence. All of those people…

“The others didn’t go without a fight.” Ratoo says, trying to cheer him up. “The converts you brought in fought fiercely to protect their home and some were able to escape thanks to their efforts. The eight who escaped with me are the only ones I know for sure who got out. There might be others.”

“Where will they go?” Ratau asks, horrified for the friends he might have lost. “You came here alone, where are the others?!”

“We followed the smoke to another village.” Ratoo says. “One that was struggling to put itself back together after a raid, but still standing. I left everyone with them before running back to look for others and to draw attention away from their new home. I couldn’t find anyone else who was alive though, and there were so many of those monsters that I couldn’t risk being followed back to the neighboring village. I ventured up here instead, in the opposite direction to lead them away from our friends.”

“Selflessness runs in your blood it seems.” Shrumy says, glancing between the two rats. “Doesn’t that mean you’re leading them right to us?”

“No…” Ratoo shakes his head. “They think I’m dead. I was barely able to walk when they found me again and they tore into me, their blades carving into my flesh. You already mistook me for a corpse, they had no reason to assume I’d get up after what they did to me. They moved on to continue hunting for the lambs, and I crawled my way here.”

“So there’s still people who are alright and need our help, right?!” Ratau asks. “Where is this village? Maybe we can-”

“You’re gonna sit your ass here, Ratau.” Shrumy tells him. “Did you hear any of what we said? Whole Darkwood is being torn apart and you running around trying to find your friends is only going to get you hurt. I know you’re worried, but unless you wanna look like your brother here, you gotta sit tight.”

“Please don’t go…” Ratoo croaks from the bed. “I don’t have the strength to follow or protect you. They’ll kill you if you leave this place.”

All Ratau can do is stew in frustration and grief. He doesn’t want to just sit here, he wants to get out there and help his friends, to save what he can of his home, to maybe find the lambs and get them somewhere safe. He’s powerless to do any of that though. If he still had the crown, he wouldn’t hesitate to run head first into danger, but it would just take one zealot to lop his head off. Even Ratoo who was a much more experienced fighter and had some sort of supernatural force acting on him to keep him alive couldn’t stand up to the wrath of the Old Faith.

He was chosen to put an end to this chaos and needless bloodshed. He still wanted to help, to fight against the bishops and avenge those who died, but he wasn’t cut out for it. He wasn’t able to make the necessary sacrifices. He wasn’t good enough.

Maybe one of the lambs on the run is his lord’s promised liberator. Maybe this sudden and violent crusade through the Darkwood will finally wake people up to this injustice and lead to some positive change…

All he could do was hope. He was of no use here and if he left he’d be dead in a day.

Lowering his head, he prays to The One Who Waits, begging him to find his new vessel soon so this pain can end.

“Come on! Fifty gold on the table! You ain’t scared, are ya?”

“I’m scared for you, Klunko.” Ratau shakes his head as he clears the board and readies his dice. “Fifty is a lot to wager on a game like this. Don’t you need that money to do business?”

“Yeah, but I’ll be able to buy more with a hundred gold than fifty!” Klunko boasts. “Come on! You chicken?”

“You Losssst a hundred already.” Flinky shakes his head dismissively. “You’ll be left destitute.”

“Not if I win!” Klunko repeats. “You’re just scared that you’ll be poor if you lose.”

“I don’t mind shaking down a chump like you who doesn’t know when to quit.” Shrumy chuckles, taking a swig of his drink before reaching for a bag hanging from his shell to throw down his bet. “Better not bitch when I beat ya!”

“Bop, you can talk some sense into him, right?” Ratau looks up to the worm resting on Klunko’s head, only for Klunko himself to chuckle.

“Who do you think is telling me to bet so high?” He asks, reaching into his satchel to throw down his buy-in. His bag is significantly lighter than when he walked in.

“I thought it was the drinkssss talking.” Flinky snickers as the board on the table is shifted and dice are laid out for Klunko and Shrumy to have their wager. Flinky uses the down time to take a swig of his own drink before eying the lonely figure in the corner of the hut. “Why don’t you come sit with ussss and have a drink, Ratoo?”

“I don’t drink…” Ratoo shakes his head, clearly agitated by the loud noise and the smell of alcohol on everyone’s breath. “Don’t mind me, just play your game.”

“Come on…” Flinky says. “You won’t be so mopey once you get some-”

“He’s fine, Flinky.” Ratau puts an end to the conversation. “Leave him be, just enjoy your drink and watch the game.”

It’s been years since Ratau’s had this many people in his small home at once. It was quite cramped and while Ratau was delighted to have so many guests over to lighten up the typically quiet and dreary home, it was increasingly apparent that Ratoo was not a fan. He enjoyed the quiet and solitude of this place after the chaos he was forced to flee and fight from and the commotion was distressing him.

Ratau wishes he knew some way to cheer him up.

He’s been here for years and he’s rarely seen a smile on his brother’s face. The happiest he’s ever seen Ratoo since he started staying here was a year after he arrived when Shrumy was able to confirm that the people he rescued were still alive and well. There was plenty of good news that day, Ches was caring for the village children, Lyrcai helped build up everyone’s homes, Oy and Ikko were able to tend to everyone who was injured in their group and the community they joined, Gantri actually mustered up enough courage to try and help build up the new village with her partner Veatik. Hearing that their friends survived was such a relief, but that was only a handful of the dozens that made up their number.

Once things had quieted down, Shrumy went to investigate the remains of the old village in his stead. The news he came back with was heartbreaking. Everything was razed to the ground. The homes, gone. The temple, torn apart and collapsed. The shrine, reduced to rubble. The people…

Another village, reduced to ruin and abandoned for nature to reclaim. How many more will be destroyed before the bishops are satisfied? How many people will they trample over to get what they want? The lambs who indirectly caused this destruction were found and slaughtered, their numbers dwindling even more as they face extinction.

Ratau tries to hold onto his faith that The One Who Waits will eventually put a stop to this. A crown bearer will be found soon, this destruction can’t continue. He just prays that it happens in his lifetime. He still has many, many years to go, but…

“HA HA!” Ratau is drawn out of his depressive spiral as Shrumy bellows out a victory cheer. “Fifty more gold in the bank! Sorry Klunko, looks like you’re gonna be-”

“No, come on! One more time.” Klunko interrupts. “You beat me by five points! You won’t get lucky a second time, keep that money on the table.”

“Klunko, do you even have any more money to bet?” Ratau asks with some concern. “You still need to buy food, don’t you?”

“The worm is betting with your money, Klunko.” Flinky says. “Cut your Lossessss.”

“Nah, I can get the money back, even without gold.” Klunko says. “I still have my body.”

Everyone pauses to let that settle in. Ratoo raises his head, his brows raised as he tries to tune in to the conversation he just overheard. Even Bop looks down at Klunko in surprise.

“I don’t really swing that way…” Shrumy says after the awkward silence stretches on too long.

“What? No!” Klunko quickly shakes his head, jostling Bop around as he elaborates. “Not like that, no, like…” Klunko rests his hand on the table as he reaches for his hip and draws a short blade he keeps on him for self defense. “I’ll bet my hand that I can win all my money back in the next game.”

“Klunko… That’s worsssse than what you first suggested.” Flinky tells him.

“First off, I suggested no such thing. You all misheard me.” Klunko corrects. “Second, I nearly lose my head practically every time I travel west to the Smugglers Sanctuary. Risking life and limb for cash is what we all do for a living, this is no different. Besides, you folks will patch me up instead of leaving me in the dirt to bleed like the cultists who patrol the main roads. Come on Shrumy, you old fart! You aren’t scared, are you?”

“I think you’re a madman with a gambling addiction that needs to be taught a lesson.” Shrumy takes another sip of his drink and a couple seconds after he sets it down, a strange look crosses his face. “Is your hand really worth your fifty gold back?”

“You’re…” Ratau asks with some alarm. “You’re not actually considering this, are you?!”

“Either he gets his money back or he learns a very painful lesson.” Shrumy says with a malicious grin, clearing the board and readying the dice. “Besides, we can probably sew it back on later. Surely your god’s trinkets can patch him up whenever he wins it back.”

“That doesn’t change how stupid this idea is.” Ratau shakes his head, setting his drink down. He thinks he’s had enough for tonight, everyone has.

“Won’t be stupid if I win!” Klunko says, though there’s a panicked edge to his voice as the weight of his wager becomes apparent.

“You lost three times so far.” Flinky reminds him. “Better hope Sssshrumy doesn’t want your dice rolling hand.”

Everyone gathers around to watch the high stakes wager take place, though one person in the hut has no interest in it. Rising from the bed in the corner, Ratoo tries to squeeze past everyone to step outside. As he does, Ratau notices his brother glance at him and with a slight tilt of his head, he gestures for him to follow him out.

“I need to go check on something.” Ratau says as he excuses himself from the table. “Please don’t chop anything off while I’m out.”

“It’s not gonna happen.” Klunko says, but there’s a very clear anxious tone in his voice. Even Bop looks nervous.

Stepping away from the table and feeling a little befuddled after a night of drinking and gaming, Ratau steps outside where his brother waits, shivering in the late night’s cold. Stumbling forward, Ratau gravitates to his brother’s side, taking his hand and leaning against him to share his warmth.

“Sorry for the noise.” He says, knowing his brother liked the silence the shack was usually steeped in. “They’ll all be on the road again in a couple days. Things will quiet down then.”

“I…” Ratoo looks down at him with a conflicted look on his face. Ratau knew that look. He was about to say something that was going to hurt. “I think I need to leave this place for a while.” Ratoo eventually says, staring off into the woods. “I can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Ratau falls completely silent. He holds his brother a little tighter, hugging his arm tightly. Was he going to have to say goodbye to his brother again?

“I know you want me to stay.” Ratoo sighs, understanding his pain. “I’ve cherished every moment I got to spend here with you. As painful as my curse is, it allowed me to watch you grow into a kind and resourceful man. There were so many times I was afraid that I’d never get to see you grow up, so I’m glad I was blessed enough to see it.”

“Then why go?” Ratau asks, his voice coming out as a squeak as his emotions strangle him.

“I don’t want to live like this…” Ratoo says, turning to return Ratau’s embrace. “I cannot explain how haunting this existence is. No pulse, no breath. I don’t want to live like this forever, I want it to be fixed… I want to find my heart.” Ratau looks up at him. “I can sometimes feel a stirring in my chest like a phantom pain. I hear her voice in my dreams, telling me that despite everything, she still loves me. I feel that she’s still out there, that she still has my heart. I want to find her and feel whole again.”

“But it’s dangerous…” Ratau says, trying his best to keep him at home. “The Old Faith will find you if you go looking for her.”

“They have no reason to bother a corpse.” Ratoo says. “I have nothing worth taking or sacrificing. They’d think nothing of the body sprawled out on the ground, and when they pass, I’ll continue my search.” Ratoo pulls away from Ratau’s embrace. “I’m already dead. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Ratau still clings to him even as he tries to back away. “So this is goodbye?” He sniffles. He hated goodbyes. He doesn’t want to be left all alone again when everyone clears out.

“I’ll be back.” Ratoo promises. “I’ll check on the others and return with what I hope is good news. I love you dearly, my little baby brother, but just as you are destined to assist the next crown bearer, I feel it’s my destiny to reclaim my heart. Once again we must part ways, but this will not be the last we see of each other, I promise.”

Ratau tries to swallow his tears as he lets his brother go. He can see that his brother is just as pained to say goodbye as he is.

Ratau sometimes wonders why Ratoo wasn’t chosen as the crown bearer. He was far braver, stronger, and more responsible than he ever was. Why was he chosen of all people? He doesn’t doubt his lord’s decision to take the crown back from him after his failures, but the fact he was crowned at all was a mystery to him.

What will the lamb prophesied to wear the crown be like? What traits will they hold that make them better suited for the job?

“I will return soon to prove to you that I’ll be alright out here.” Ratoo tells him. “I will venture out to the new village our friends are staying at and come right back. After that… The sea… They said they were going to take Hathor to the sea. Maybe I’ll search Anchor Deep or follow one of your friends to the pier down south. I’ll search for as long as I need to in order to find her. Anything to feel warmth in my chest again.”

Turning his back, he looks out into the woods. He tries to take a deep breath, though it does little to calm him as the air runs right through him.

“Stay safe, baby brother.” Ratoo says. “I look forward to the day that you’ll be able to introduce me to the crown bearer. Until then, farewell.”

With one last wave, Ratoo begins his mission, venturing out into the woods in search of his long lost heart. He promises to return soon, but Ratau still feels grief well up in his heart as his brother disappears into the dark. Goodbyes are never going to be easy for him. He’s already lost so many and as long as his brother is away from home he’ll never know if he’s alright or not unless he comes back.

He bows his head and prays for Ratoo’s fortune and health. The lord blessed him with his immortality, hopefully his eternity will be one full of love once he finds his heart again.

Failing that, Ratau finds some solace in knowing that when his time finally comes, Ratoo will be waiting for him.

Wiping his eyes, he turns to step back inside where cheers and merriment could still be heard.

“I told you I’d win!” Opening the door, Ratau’s relieved to find there’s no missing appendages on Klunko. “I think I’m gonna call it quits for tonight though.”

“I hope you learned your lesson.” Shrumy shakes his head disapprovingly as he shoves the pile of gold back across the table Klunko’s way. “I could practically see your feathers going gray with each roll.” Looking back, Shrumy spots Ratau as he enters and immediately takes notice of his bad mood. “What’s that look for?” He asks. “Your brother alright?”

“He left to go check on our old friends.” Ratau says, trying to compose himself and force a neutral expression. “He’s going to be gone for a while.”

The mood of the room dies down as the news settles, but Shrumy forces a smile anyways. “He’ll be fine, Ratau.” He assures him. “I mean, you’ve seen him, right? The guy could probably pick himself back up after getting smacked around by a bishop. He’ll be back, don’t you worry.”

“Y-yeah…” Ratau sniffles, straightening himself out. “You’re right.”

“Come on, sit down.” Klunko offers. “Bop’s cutting me off. You don’t want my drink here to go to waste, do you?”

“The night is sssstill young.” Flinky says. “Let’ssss play before we retire for the night.”

Ratau returns to his seat, grief still weighing him down but grateful to have friends like these to liven up his night. Klunko pushes his dice and his half finished drink towards him as Flinky readies his dice, preparing himself to play. Ratau readies himself to make the most of his friend’s visit…

...for he dreads how lonely this place will become without his brother.

The day he was called upon started like any other.

Ratau woke early, just before the sun started to rise on the horizon. After getting out of bed, he stretched himself out, limbering up his now aching limbs to prepare for his morning chores. There was a crick somewhere in his back that he couldn’t pop, leaving him hunched over slightly as he steps outside with his water buckets to fetch clean water from the stream. He carries a walking stick with him as he ventures out, knowing that the walk will wear on his weak knees.

It’s been… How long has it been since he moved out here? He’s lost track of the exact number of years, but it’s been a very long time. The young boy who left his village behind was long gone now. Every time Ratau saw his reflection in the water, he saw more gray furs and wrinkles. Shrumy was around… forty when they first met? Shrumy celebrated his hundred and fifteenth birthday last year so…

Gosh, it’s not gonna be long before he’s a century old…

Klunko, Bop, and Flinky were considering retirement, no longer having the youthful endurance they once had for their long trading trips. Ratau had a bad back and weak knees, but he was much more spry than his friends were at this point thanks to his lord’s blessing. Shrumy was starting to slow down, but as a tortoise, he’s still got plenty of life and vigor in him. Hell, he might even outlive Ratau.

While he’s grateful for this blessing for keeping him alive and well this long, his time out here was lonely and the news that was brought with the traders and the incredibly rare visit from his brother wasn’t always good. The village their friends escaped to was still intact and thriving, but all of those friends have long since died. Of everyone who once made up Ratau’s flock, Oy is the only one who remains, a wrinkly old man cared for by his children and grandchildren.

The last update he heard about Oy came from a year ago though… In that time, it’s very likely that the young pup he cared for when he was rebuilding the village had passed of old age.

Karacyth had never left Ratau’s mind, but with every update he heard of his old friends, he’s reminded of what his elder said as he neared his final moments. Men aren’t supposed to live this long. He could still make new friends, still find love, but it was painful to watch everyone he cared about wither while he remained. Every death was another weight on his soul that he couldn’t shake.

Gathering fresh water and checking his traps, Ratau makes his return trip home, leaning heavily on his walking stick as he carries the extra weight. As much as his extended life was starting to hurt him, he prays that it isn’t in vain. News of the lambs have become incredibly sparse. He thinks the last story he heard was from ten years ago, an older woman who was chased down south. Some rumors say she had a child with her, but there was never any follow up story. She was slaughtered, and the lambs grew closer to extinction.

What was The One Who Waits… well… waiting for? If he was going to follow the prophecy, the crown bearer had to be a lamb, but with how few there are now, he might miss his chance. Will he have to find someone else to rescue him? If the prophecy isn’t fulfilled, will he ever escape?

All alone out here in the Darkwood, his mind constantly falls into spirals like this. He oftentimes wonders where he and his lord would be now if the crown was never taken from him. Would he still have his youth? Would more chains be broken? Would the bishops be dead? He hated hiding out here. He wanted to serve his lord, he wanted to change the world for the better, he wanted to feel powerful and strong instead of brittle and weak.

He returns home with fresh water, setting the buckets down once he’s home before trying to crack his back into place. He needs to clear his mind, it’s going to be a long day if he’s falling into a funk this early into the day.

Resting beside his bed, Ratau reaches down and takes the paper crown he made himself from the bedside table. It didn’t have the right feeling or weight as the Red Crown did and Shrumy said it made him look ridiculous whenever he wore it, but he doesn’t feel as small and frail as he usually did while wearing it.

Adorned in his origami crown and blessed scarf, Ratau sits himself down to whittle away and make more toys for the traders to pick up the next time they visit. Shrumy said he was going to try and find some books to bring back for him during his travels and Ratau wants to be ready to trade for them. He’s sure Shrumy would give them to him for free, but he wanted to pay his fair share. Shrumy’s already done so much for him, he deserves proper compensation for it.

He spends hours doing this, carving away at the wood and tossing the wood chips into the furnace as he boils one of the buckets of water for his soup. Most days are this uneventful for him. Sometimes he’ll spend a few hours chopping firewood, other times he’ll be knee deep in the garden, but a majority of his time is spent at his table, carving up toys for children he’ll never meet as he gathers dust in this lonely old shack…

He needs to clear his head again.

Ratau ventures outside once more, passing over the humble garden he had growing in the clearing to march over towards the small effigy of the Red Crown he erected in his lord's honor. It was technically dangerous to have such a blatant display of blasphemy against the Old Faith on the property, but no one dangerous has found this place yet, and if they did, it wouldn’t matter if this was here or not.

Gently lowering himself down onto his knees, he bows before the small shrine. He prays for Oy’s good health or that if he has passed, that he is resting with Ikko in the afterlife. He prays for the continued wellbeing of all who still worship him, especially his brother who continues his hunt for his heart. Finally he pleads with the One Who Waits to find his next successor soon. Ratau desperately wants to serve, he doesn’t want to stay cooped up in solitude anymore. He doesn’t want to die before he sees his lord freed.

With his prayers done, he tries to prop himself back onto his feet with his walking stick when a sudden gust of wind blows into his face. He braces himself against his stick, taken aback by the sudden change in weather. There’s barely been a breeze all day, where was this coming from?

The small shrine he’s erected starts to wobble on its base and Ratau panics, reaching out for it to steady it, though he’s stunned when he sees black ichor dribble from the eye of the effigy crown. The wind seems to swirl around him and the crown, blowing the paper crown off his head as he tries to keep himself upright with his stick.

With one more sudden push, the effigy topples over, the eye of the crown spilling ichor and smoking as if it were burnt.

Was that a good thing? Was that a sign from his lord that he should do something? If so, what was he trying to tell him?

Ratau rises to his feet to walk over and prop the effigy back up, when he takes notice of something in the distance. Just above the treeline in the same direction the effigy fell is a large gathering of dark clouds. The sky has been clear all day and just looking at the clouds makes Ratau feel a terrifying but familiar shudder run through his whole body.

The bishops were gathering for something. If The One Who Waits was trying to draw his attention to them, then…

Finding his origami crown and replacing it onto his head, Ratau hurries back to his house, preparing himself for the journey as his heart pounds in his chest. This is it. This is what he’s been waiting all these years for. There is an undeniable feeling of fear coursing through his veins, he is still mortal and far more vulnerable now than he was when he was still a young man, but he wears a smile on his face as he packs essentials and a weapon to defend himself on his trip.

The time has finally come to meet the new crown bearer, he’s sure of it!

With only the barest essentials packed, Ratau readies his short sword and his walking stick and immediately sets out into the woods, following the dark clouds and ominous presence in the distance.

It’s a long walk, one that takes him in the direction of his old home. It gets him thinking about what he’s going to do once he finds the crown bearer. If they’re going to continue his work, they’ll need a place to establish the New Faith. There would be no better place than the site of his old village at the crumbling steps of the lord's old temple. If the transportation stone is still intact, maybe he can get the crown bearer’s help to take him right there so they can begin their work.

He’s forced to take several breaks during his run. He sadly isn’t as spry or agile as he used to be, but he’s making good progress. Though, the closer he gets to the dark clouds rumbling overhead, he quickly finds he’s no longer alone out here. He’s forced to hide himself in the brush as hooded figures also converge on the gathering of bishops.

“We must hurry, sister! We cannot miss this monumental occasion!”

“Are we sure it’s really the last? Oh I can’t wait to see its head hit the mud!”

“We will never see those despicable lambs ever again!”

The last lamb? The last?! That couldn’t be true, there had to be at least a few more in hiding, right? The One Who Waits was cutting it dangerously close. Hopefully this lamb will be a worthy successor. He trusted that his lord knew what he was doing.

He travels late into the night, stopping constantly to hide himself in the dirt and bushes to avoid being spotted by the zealots converging on the site of the lamb’s execution. As morbid as it sounds, Ratau is in no rush to make it before the axe drops. Once the crown rests on their head, they will rise again, and he’ll be waiting there for them when they awake.

Eventually, the terrifying presence he was following dissipates and the clouds overhead start to let up. As he continues to push forward, he’s forced to go into hiding as people start to leave the site instead of approaching it. The deed was done. As far as these monsters knew, the lambs were completely extinct, their crime of being even mildly related to The One Who Waits paid for.

Little did they know, hunting the lambs had brought them right back to the god they were trying to erase with their extinction.

Fatigue starts to set in as the night wears on and the crowd thins out. He no longer has the presence of the bishops to follow, but just as he’s starting to get worried that he might be lost, he hears the sound of a war horn in the distance, one that is suddenly cut off as whoever’s blowing it is silenced. In the distance he sees the torchlight of some of the zealots who were leaving the scene of the execution turn back to investigate.

The crown bearer was awake.

Ratau picks up his pace, knowing that no one will be bumping into him from here on out. He runs as fast as his tired legs and aching knees can carry him, leaning hard on his walking stick as he tries his best to find his successor.

He hears a commotion in the distance. Clashing swords, pained and panicked screams. Zealots begin running from the scene, forcing Ratau to duck into cover to avoid being seen before he continues his search. As he does, he tries to form an image of his successor in his mind. They had to be someone strong and brave, as charismatic as him but also resolute enough to do what he couldn’t. The One Who Waits has spent decades waiting for this hero to arrive and…

When Ratau finally finds them, they’re nothing like what he pictured.

They both stumble to a stop and stare at each other in shock. Ratau feels his heart pound in his chest at the sight of them.

They’re… They’re just a kid.

He’s suddenly thrown back into the past, his mind replaying the memory of the first lamb he ever saw when his brother brought them home. The new crown bearer wears a similar expression. A dirty, blood stained face with tears streaming down their cheeks and wide eyes staring back at him with so much terror and mistrust. Blood soaks into their white wool and their whole body trembles with fear. They were a lot older than the child Ratau once cared for, looking to be the same age as he was when he was first crowned, but they looked just as afraid and helpless as the small bundle of wool he took in.

Resting between two small horns on their head was the Red Crown, its eye scanning the surroundings for threats. Ratau wants to believe he sees recognition flash in its blood red eye as it passes over him, but he can’t be sure. Ratau steps forward, holding up his hand to show he means no harm, but the lamb still backs away, the crown flying from their head to fall into their bloody hands as a longsword. Ratau freezes. This poor thing has been hunted all their life. He needed to show them that he could be trusted. Reaching for his hip, he takes his sword and tosses it onto the dirt beside him, disarming himself.

“Fear not, little lamb.” He says, keeping his hand up as he leans against his walking stick. “I am Ratau. I mean you no harm, I am a friend.” The lamb does not say anything back or lower their sword. They seem confused. “I see you wear the Red Crown.” Ratau says, pointing at the crown on their head. “I was once a chosen vessel like you, but… those days are lost to the winds I’m afraid.”

The lamb slowly lowers their sword, the same confused expression on their face. They lean over to peer behind him, their horizontal pupils darting around in their head as they search for danger. They still didn’t trust him, and with some horror, Ratau fears that they might never trust him. How long have they lived their life on the run? How long have they avoided people out of fear?

“You’ve met our lord, yes?” Ratau asks. “The One Who Waits?” The lamb slowly nods their head. He was finally getting through to them. “I served him too. He sent me here to guide you. I’m here to take you somewhere safe.” Ratau steps forward, keeping his hand up to show he isn’t dangerous. The lamb doesn’t back away, allowing him to approach though they still remain armed. Once he’s close enough, Ratau holds out his hand to them, offering to take theirs.

The sword drops from their hand and returns to their head as a crown, an action that startles them slightly as they try to get used to the crown’s presence. Ratau doesn’t move from his spot, leaving his offered hand out for the lamb to step forward and take when they’re ready. They still look so scared, still constantly looking around to see if this was a trap or an ambush. Ratau just offers them a warm smile, a silent assurance that they’ll be alright. The lamb tentatively raises their hand, reaching out to grab his…

…Before throwing themselves forward, wrapping their arms around him as they burst into tears.

“Pl… please…” They sob into his shoulder, barely able to speak. “Help…”

“Hey, hey…” Ratau hugs them back, trying to console them. “It’s alright, kiddo. Everything’s going to be alright.”

This poor, poor child. Ratau cannot even begin to imagine the pain this kid has gone through. The very last lamb… What happened to their parents? Could this be the same child that was rumored to have been with the woman who was murdered ten years ago? Has this child been all alone for all that time with no mother to keep them safe?

Another horn blows in the distance, causing the lamb to tense up with horror. They pull away from him, the crown already arming them as they scan the nearby woods for danger.

“We are still in grave danger.” Ratau warns, struggling to kneel down and grab his discarded sword. “We must flee from this place. Come with me, I know these woods well. I will take you someplace safe where the sound of these horns will never find you. Hurry!”

Ratau turns to retreat back into the thicket he came from and to his relief, the lamb follows after him. Together, they venture through the woods, desperate to find safety as the cultists of the Old Faith swarm the site of their execution.

Once again, Ratau finds himself questioning his lord’s choices. Why did he wait so long? Why not save this child’s mother who would have fought to protect them? Why choose this terrified child who seemed to be completely untrusting in everyone?

All Ratau knows for sure is that his purpose in all of this is clear. He must help them. His kindness was his gift to the world and knowing the amount of suffering and hardship this poor child must have gone through, he can’t think of anyone who needs a comforting presence to lean on more.

This is why he was chosen, this is why his lord kept him around, this is why the divine beasts told his fortune. Just as he had several decades ago, his duty was to protect this lamb from the evils of the Old Faith.

He will not fail in this task again. He will not let this lamb die.

Chapter Text

Ratau’s heart pounds in his chest as he flees through the forest with the lamb in tow, terrible memories flooding his mind from the night his first village burned to the ground. War horns fill the air as the agents of the Old Faith catch on to what’s happened. They were deep in enemy territory, but thanks to that, they should be very close to an old temple or a transportation stone to escape to somewhere safe. They just have to get to it first before the cultists find them.

Feeling a tug on the back of his vest, Ratau turns around to find the lamb is absolutely mortified. Tears spill down their face which is contorted in an expression of pure terror as horns continue to blare through the woods. They suck in quick, desperate gasps of air as they try to cling on to him.

He reaches and takes their hand, helping guide them through the woods. They grip his hand tight, staring up at him with those strange eyes of theirs. They looked so much like the child he lost so long ago. He’s not going to lose this one. If he had to, he’d… he’d gladly stand his ground and fight to protect them. He’s sure his lord will be proud if he were to die fighting to protect his chosen liberator.

As desperate as he was to get out of this place though, he was not fit to be running around this much. He comes to a stop in a break in the thicket, taking a knee to try and catch his breath. His legs were burning up, he was putting all of his weight against his walking stick to try and prop himself upright. The war horns were close, but he thinks he can afford a minute to rest before he continues.

The lamb thinks differently.

“Please!” They sputter, tugging against his hand and trying to lift him to his feet. They were on the verge of bawling. “Please! Keep going! PLEASE!” There was pure, strangled anguish in their voice. He lets them drag him back to his feet. There’d be time for rest later. He needed to get this kid to safety, no matter what. As he rises though, he sees something poking out from the tops of the trees. It was the spire of an old temple. If they were going to find a transportation stone, it would be there.

“It’s alright, kiddo.” Ratau huffs, forcing himself to trudge forward. “We’re almost there. I just needed a quick breather. Come on.” Keeping the lamb’s hand in his, he pushes himself back into the thicket towards the nearby temple. He doesn’t doubt that there will be guards, but if he can make it to the stone first, he can whisk himself and the lamb away before they reach him.

The lamb seems hesitant as he drags them close, but the horns closing in around them keeps them moving. They had to trust him on this.

Making it to the temple, he finds it’s wide open, the main gates left unguarded. Ratau kneels down, bringing the lamb down with him and shushing them. They give him a slow nod, their mouth forming a thin line on their face as they make the effort to keep quiet. Ratau leads them inside, keeping low to the ground as the sound of a sermon of some kind echoes within the stone building.

He freezes when another voice cuts through the quiet chanting.

“Let me go! I have nothing to do with this! Please!”

As Ratau gets closer, he quickly learns that this is not the site of a sermon, but a sacrifice. Strapped down before a statue of Leshy was a buck, kicking and squirming on the stone slab he’s been tied down to. Five zealots total surround him, one holding a crooked dagger close to their chest.

It was not an unfamiliar sight to Ratau, though it’s been a long time since he’s witnessed the cruelty of the Old Faith first hand. He tries to reach for the short blade on his hip, only to remember that his hand was currently held tight in the lamb’s and his other was clutching his walking stick. He was in no position to fight these people. He had a terrified child to get to safety and he was decades out of practice. Looking around the room, he finds that the transportation stone isn’t too far from where the sacrifice is taking place. He could make a rush for it and escape befor-

“Please!” The buck screams out as the dagger wielding zealot starts to slowly raise the blade over their head. “I don’t wanna die!”

“HEY!” It was stupid, he was putting himself at unnecessary risk, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try. The lamb gasps behind him as the five zealots turn to face him. Dropping his walking stick and letting it clatter against the stone floor, he reaches for his hip and draws his weapon. “Let him go!”

The zealots and even the buck stare in shock, not at him, but at the lamb hiding behind him. He feels them tugging against his vest, trying to drag him away, but it’s too late now. They’ll stand no chance if they run back out into the woods. They had to take the transportation stone, and he wasn’t going to leave this poor man to die to get away.

“This foul rat is trying to abscond with the cursed endling!” The dagger wielding zealot bellows, pointing the blade at him. “Slit the old man’s throat and capture the lamb!”

In a flurry of black cloaks and drawn steel, all five of the cultists charge at Ratau. He holds his ground, feeling his heart rise up in his throat as he braces himself for combat. He still remembers Aym’s training, he’s got a whole year of combat experience under his belt, but that was a whole lifetime ago. His odds are not good here, but he had to try. He wasn’t going to let these people hurt the lamb or anyone ever again. He was sick of sitting around, he was-

“NO!” Rushing forward past him and letting go of his hand, the lamb charges at the incoming zealots, causing Ratau’s heart to lodge itself in his throat with fear. He tries to reach out to them, to pull them out of harm's way so he could protect them,

Only to be reminded of the terrible power that resided inside of the crown resting on their head.

It flies from their head to their hands, a mass of shadows that suddenly turns into sharpened, gleaming silver. The sight of the suddenly materializing weapon stuns the zealot leading the charge and before they can slow themselves down or halt their momentum, the lamb swings forward with all their might.

The blade slashes them in two, a clean cut right across their midsection that leaves both their top and bottom half to splatter onto the floor.

While everyone else is left frozen by the shocking sight, the lamb does not stop. They swing wildly, screaming out in rage and fear as their blade meets flesh. Ratau’s understands now why his friends were so afraid of him when he first arrived with the crown. To see something so small effortlessly tear these men apart, it was beyond horrifying.

He started this conflict for a reason though. Finding his nerve, he pushes himself towards the buck tied to the stone. He’s squirming around, trying desperately to break free, but he flinches at Ratau’s touch, terrified that he might be next as the lamb continues to butcher the zealots. He brings his blade up to the buck’s bindings, slowly working to cut him free.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of here.” Ratau promises, though the buck is still hesitant to believe him.

“What’s going on?! Is that a lamb?! What the hell is that thing?!”

“It’s alright!” Ratau repeats. “They’re going to save us. What’s your name, friend?” Cutting the ropes free, Ratau sets his blade aside and helps the buck sit himself up. He’s scared, but seeing Ratau is unarmed and trying to help, he seems to relax a little.

“Tana…” He says.

“Come with us, Tana.” Ratau pleads. “We’re going to go somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from these lands where the Old Faith can’t reach us.” Helping him off the stone, Ratau leaves Tana to collect himself as he turns to check on the lamb.

They stand in the center of a bloody mess, gasping for breath as they hold their sword tight, their eyes darting back and forth as they look for more people trying to hurt them. Seeing Ratau slowly approach them, the sword leaves their hands, returning to their head as the Red Crown. The lamb hurries to him and Ratau instinctively flinches. Seeing how effortlessly they carved through five men, he couldn’t help but worry they might accidentally hurt him with the strength the crown granted them. They are gentle when they wrap their arms around him though, crying into his vest.

“It’s alright, kiddo.” Ratau does his best to try and console them. “We’re just about out of this mess. Tana! This way! We don’t have much time!”

Gathering up his walking stick, Ratau guides Tana and the lamb towards the transportation stone as another war horn blows in the distance. Tonight has been an awful, harrowing experience, but his heart beats from the thrill. He saved a life today. He’s spent decades gathering dust in that shack but for the first time in years, he feels like he’s making a difference again.

With his two rescues in tow, he leads them to the circle on the temple floor, and the Red Crown whisks them away.

Ratau finds himself frozen with grief when he gets his first look at his old home in over… Gods, at least eighty years.

Everything has been laid to ruin and nature has reclaimed most of what was left, but even then, so much of it was still familiar to him. Wandering through the ruins, all of the buildings are still perfectly mapped out in his head. This is where the temple used to be, this is where the tables were laid out for the feast, that was where Karacyth’s home once was. There was still a rough patch of dirt where the firepit used to be where everyone gathered even though it’s been years since anyone has ever touched this place.

The statue that he chiseled away at for so long is now just a pile of crumbling stone in the center of the overgrown clearing.

It hurt to see this place in such disarray, but it wouldn’t be like this for long. It would be rebuilt, bigger and better than he ever could, even if they were starting off painfully small. It was just him, the lamb, and Tana who aimlessly wanders the clearing in an almost dissociative state of shock.

The lamb sat on the crumbling stone steps overlooking the clearing, idly picking at the red fleece draped around their body. They looked miserable, though this was far more manageable than the panicked mess they were when they first arrived. Ratau’s plan to use a teleportation stone worked wonders, but while he knew what to expect, the lamb didn’t. They were dragged through the void and tossed into a land they had never seen before and they were still terrified that they were being followed, but after touring them around and relaxing in the ruins, Ratau showed them that they were safe.

“Are you doing alright?” Ratau approaches the lamb on the steps, desperate to try and cheer them up. They flinch at his words, sitting straight and reaching their hand upward for the crown. Ratau freezes and once the lamb realizes it’s him, they lower their hand again, curling up on themselves slightly out of shame. “Hey, it’s alright.” Ratau assures them. “I know that feeling, believing that you aren’t ever safe and that anyone could hurt you. You can trust me though, I promise.”

The lamb eases up somewhat, allowing Ratau to get close. Ratau sits himself down on the steps beside them, looking over the overgrown clearing.

“This place used to be my home once…” Ratau sighs. The lamb doesn’t respond, but their head tilts slightly in his direction. “This is where I served The One Who Waits when I had the crown. Now that you wear it, this place is yours. It’s here that you will usher in the New Faith and spread the word of our lord. It’s here that you will build a home for yourself, someplace where you can be safe from the monsters that hunted you.”

The lamb looks over the land, the crumbling ruins, the destroyed monuments, the trees and bushes growing over the old foundations. They don’t seem convinced. They’re relaxed though. For the moment, this place was quiet and empty. No one would hurt them here.

“There is much to teach you and much work to do to clean this place up.” Ratau continues, looking over the clearing. “I remember when I first started out, though admittedly I had a much easier start than you do. Tana and I will need places to sleep. Some of the bushes here probably have some berries to keep us fed for a while. You can leave chopping wood for fires to me. I was a woodsman’s apprentice before I was crowned. I can probably chop down everything in this clearing in a day if my back doesn’t give out first.”

The lamb nods idly, their attention falling back to the red fleece and the belled collar they have around their neck. Ratau remembers wearing the same fleece himself, though the collar seems new. The sight of raw looking scarred flesh peeking out from beneath the leather keeps him from commenting on it though.

“You don’t talk that much, do you?” Ratau voices an observation. While they don’t say anything, the lamb shakes their head no. “If it’s not rude to ask, why is that? One of your duties is to preach the gospel of our lord. It’s going to be tough to do that if you’re mute.”

“Don’t…” The lamb speaks their first words since they arrived here, though they catch in their throat. “Don’t make noise. Be quiet. Mom said.” Ratau feels his heart sink at the mention of the kid’s mother and watches as the lamb’s own expression falls too.

“She didn’t want you drawing attention to yourself, huh?” Ratau asks and the lamb nods. “Well you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You can shout till your voice gives out all you want out here. It’s what kids oughta do anyway, scream and laugh. Go ahead, open up a bit.”

The lamb looks anxious at the idea. “What if they hear?” They ask, staring off into the woods. “They’ll hurt me.”

“This place is safe.” Ratau reassures them. “And even if someone did come around, The One Who Waits will keep you safe. You are his chosen vessel, he will not let anyone kill you. He will take care of you any time someone tries. He will take your pain away and send you back home where you’ll be safe again.” The lamb reaches up and grabs hold of the crown at the mention of The One Who Waits, staring down at its red eye. Ratau can’t help but lean in close to look at it too. He wonders if it would be as easy as reaching out and putting it on his own head, but he doesn’t want to get too close to the still very jumpy lamb. “Do you have a name, by the way?” Ratau asks. “I gave you mine when we first met, but I still don’t know what to call you. Go on, it’ll give you some practice talking.”

“My name…” The lamb tilts their head. Several seconds stretch by in stress inducing silence as the lamb’s face contorts with worry. “I don’t…” They shake their head with distress. “No name.” They whine.

“You don’t have one?!” Ratau asks. That can’t be right. Even if she wanted them to stay quiet at all times, their mother had to have named them. Maybe they were just too young to remember their name before she was taken from them. “Well we gotta call you something. Lamby? Lambert? Lam-bam? Lamantha???”

The lamb gives him a strange look. “All lamb? Nothing else?”

“My name is Ratau and my brother’s name is Ratoo.” Ratau shrugs with a chuckle. “We’re not a creative bunch. If you’d like, you can name yourself. What do you want me to call you?”

The lamb falls silent, leaning forward and resting their arms on their knees as they really ponder the thought. “Lamby is ok.” They finally say. “I’m not… good at names too.”

“Nice to properly meet you, Lamby.” Ratau says, holding his hand out to shake. The lamb looks down at it in confusion. They tentatively reach their hand out in a similar manner and appear even more confused when Ratau takes it and shakes it before letting go. Watching them stare at their hand after the fact, he realizes just how isolated and unsociable this kid is. Did they not know what a handshake was?

This might be tougher than he thought. He wasn’t just helping Lamby here to become a cult leader, he was gonna have to practically raise the kid.

“Come on.” Ratau pushes himself to his feet, stretching himself out before making his way down a few steps. “You’ve already made a friend out of me, but there’s still someone you need to be introduced to down here. We aren’t gonna get much done with just the two of us, let’s get our newest friend situated.”

After a moment, Lamby rises from the steps to follow him. They still look a little on edge, but they look way more mellowed out now. Their attention isn’t on the darkness in the trees, but at their new home and the bushes growing within it. Little by little he was getting to them. Hopefully they’ll learn that they’re safe here and that they can drop their guard while they’re among friends. Stress used to eat him alive when he was afraid that someone would come to this village and hurt his friends, he can’t imagine living like that twenty-four seven.

Nearing the edge of the clearing, Ratau brings Lamby along towards Tana. He seems to be occupying himself by looking for big sticks to swing around, but when he hears them both approaching, he spins around and holds the stick out in front of him.

“Woah, hey!” He backs away. “Don’t sneak up on me! I don’t… What do you want?” Tana barely pays Ratau any mind, his eyes are locked solely on Lamby. Even as their numbers dwindled down to nothing, the superstition and fear of the lambs still stuck around.

“I was just talking to my new friend here and realized you two never got properly introduced.” Ratau says, noticing that Lamby was actually trying to hide behind him, just as afraid of Tana as he is of them. Ratau steps aside to force them to look at each other. “You should at least learn the name of the little fella who saved you, right?”

Tana seems hesitant, his eyes shifting between the wooly beast of ill omen and the crown on their head. Lamby also looks anxious, but Ratau gives them a quick smile. This person was a friend. They ease up just a little bit and make the first move.

“Lamby is my name.” They say in an awkward mumble. After a moment, they reach their hand out to the buck. It’s clear that this is the first time they’ve ever tried to introduce themselves to someone they didn’t know.

The buck is weirded out by the awkwardness of the greeting, but despite that and what Lamby is, he tentatively reaches out to shake their hand. “Tana.” He introduces himself.

Ratau watches in silent awe as he sees Lamby smile for the first time since he met them. It’s something to behold, though with a bit of grief, he wonders how rare of a sight it must be.

“Now…” Tana lets go of the lamb and turns his attention back out to the woods behind him. “Where do we go from here? How far do we have to go to make sure those people don’t find us again?”

“We’re already in a safe place.” Ratau assures him. “This is the sacred land which once housed a temple to our lord The One Who Waits. As long as you remain on his holy ground, you are safe under his watch.”

“...What?” Tana boggles after a few seconds. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you saying that we’re in some bishop’s temple?! We should get out now then! If they come back now, there’s no way we’re getting out alive!”

“No no, calm down.” Ratau pleads with the buck. “The One Who Waits isn’t… Well, he isn’t anymore, but… Hold on a moment.” Ratau turns away from Tana to speak with the lamb. “Lamby, could you take your crown off for a moment? I’m not going to take it, I just want you to hold it out.” Lamby does as they’re told, reaching up and taking their crown off. “Now shake it up and down as hard as you can.”

At Ratau’s command, Lamby rattles the crown around in their hands as Ratau holds his hands underneath it. Just as he hoped, the crown isn’t empty. Tumbling out of the Red Crown’s void, his lord’s Grimoire falls into his waiting hands. It’s been decades since he’s seen this old thing. He’s so drawn to the sight of the old book that he almost misses the look of pure shock on both Tara and Lamby’s faces. Lamby lifts the crown back up to look inside of its void, wondering what else might be in there.

“It’s all in here.” Ratau announces, undoing the clasps binding the book shut and cracking it open. His heart races as he looks over the ancient writing of his lord, overwhelmed by the memories of the comfort and security these writings once offered him. “The teachings of our lord, The One Who Waits. Once a bishop of the Old Faith before he was betrayed by his own kin, the banished god shows sympathy for all of us who suffer under the same tyrannical rule he was tortured under. He saved the life of this poor lamb who was hunted for the crimes of their ancestors and through them, he has saved your life as well. Do you not see the crown in the lamb’s possession? We have been saved by a god that loves us, not the traitorous bishops who are so corrupt that they’d even turn on their own.”

Ratau missed preaching like this. It was disheartening to see all the work he put in to spread the word of his benevolent god fade away over the years. The One Who Waits gave his flock hope in an utterly hopeless situation, and looking at Tana now, he can see that he’s comforted by his words as his tense shoulders start to relax a little and he drops the stick he was holding to keep them at bay.

Looking down at Lamby, they look mesmerized by Ratau’s words. Maybe The One Who Waits didn’t give them the same run down he gave Ratau before he awoke. He supposes that’s his job now. He’ll also have to teach the lamb to spread the good word themself too.

Closing up the book for now, he hands it back to Lamby. “While we’re safe on these holy grounds, we are still at the mercy of the elements. We must make shelter, build a fire, gather food for the night. The lord is watching over us, but we still have to look out for ourselves too.”

“Um…” Tana looks around the clearing. “I’m not sure how much I can help, but I was a carpenter by trade before I was taken from my village.”

“What a surprise!” Ratau says with a smile. “I was a woodsman before my home was destroyed. I’m sure we’ll work well together! Though of course, for either of us to do much, we’re gonna need wood. Lamby, I’m going to show you another trick you can do with that crown of yours to help us. Go and pick out a tree and I’ll join you soon.”

Lamby is still infatuated with the void inside of the crown which they shoved the grimoire back into, but at Ratau’s order, they look around the clearing before running off to the nearest tree. As scared and confused as they are, they’re quick to follow directions and eager to help. He’s sure they’ll break out of their little bubble soon with enough time and care. They’ve lived their whole life in fear, but once they learn just how powerful the lord has made them, they’ll quickly realize that they have absolutely nothing to fear anymore.

The One Who Waits was watching over him once more and he’s never felt happier.

Ratau awoke the next morning stiff as a board and utterly exhausted.

Lying down by the fire on a makeshift bed of gathered leaves, Ratau finds himself dearly missing his soft bed back home. He wasn’t able to get any sleep the night before as he rescued Lamby and Tana so he passed out the first opportunity he had, but even after a full night’s rest, he still felt like garbage. It would be some time before they’re able to make this place truly comfortable, but he’s confident that Lamby will make this place a vibrant community once they really get going.

Slowly trying to push himself upright, he fumbles for his walking stick to try and prop himself up. The sky was just barely starting to light up as the sun peeked over the horizon and the fire he slept beside was starting to dim. He’d have to rebuild the fire before the other’s woke, but…

Looking around, he finds Tana is still fast asleep, looking just as restless and uncomfortable as Ratau felt, but to his surprise, Lamby was curled up by the fire too. They shouldn’t need to sleep at all thanks to the power of the crown. They didn’t even have a pad of leaves to sleep on, they were just curled up in the dirt but even then they seemed to be sleeping more comfortably than…

Were they sleeping?

Straining his ears against the crackling of the fire beside him, he tries to listen for breathing and realizes he can’t hear any coming from the lamb. Their chest wasn't moving, they were still as a statue.

This wasn’t exactly new for him, his brother looked the same way whenever he slept, but it still sent shivers down his spine to see the kid look so lifeless and still. It was no wonder he scared all of his friends anytime he took a nap, this was awful. If they were asleep, they were speaking with The One Who Waits.

He wonders how the lord is doing, does he know that he’s still here helping his newest vessel. He wonders if his disciples miss him, he certainly misses them. He hopes Aym and Baal will treat Lamby well, the kid needs more people that they can trust and rely on. It’s best that he doesn’t disturb their rest then. They probably can’t even wake up in their current state until the lord wills it anyways, there’s no point in trying.

Getting up from his leaf pile and stretching himself out with a series of painful cracks and pops, he works to rebuild the fire before grabbing a fistful of berries for breakfast. As the sun starts to rise, he looks over the place and plots his next move. There was so much that a settlement needed to sustain itself. Clean water, a steady supply of food, shelters to protect everyone from the wind and rain. Of course, with the Red Crown on Lamby’s head, they’d also need a temple and a shrine to worship in to feed them power.

Ratau’s progress was far too slow for The One Who Waits’ liking the first time around. If Lamby was going to kill the bishops, they needed to get strong quickly. They were going to need a shrine, someplace to gather devotion and feed off of it. He remembers how ruthless the zealots of the Old Faith could be, but knowing their pre-existing hatred for lambs, he’s afraid of what they might do to them when they leave this place.

The sky was bright orange with dawn light when Lamby woke up. They shoot upright, gasping for breath and quickly looking around to try and make sense of where they were. Their eyes eventually settle on Ratau and he pats the space beside him by the fire.

“Morning, Lamby.” He greets them. “Did you have a nice chat with our lord?” Lamby nods their head, taking a few deep breaths to settle themselves down now that they’re awake and safe. Taking up Ratau’s offer, they crawl over and join him by the fire. “I know this probably sounds silly, but… Did he say anything about me while you were with him?” Ratau asks. It was so nice to be back to work helping people again, but he still missed the guidance and care he received from his lord.

“Said to listen…” Lamby mumbles, rubbing their eyes. “Said you’ll show me how to leave.”

“To leave?” Ratau asks.

“Said there’s a door you can open.” Lamby nods.

“Oh…” Ratau sighs, looking up the stairs towards the old shrine. “He’s already sending you out on a crusade.” He was just worrying about how they’d fair out on their own, but it had to happen eventually. They didn’t have much here other than some berries. They didn’t even have tools to continue working by themselves without Lamby’s Red Crown. He and Tana were entirely dependent on what they brought home from the Darkwood.

“I’m scared…” Lamby says, hugging their knees as they stare into the fire. “You’re nice. People outside are not nice. I don’t want them to hurt me.”

“You aren’t in any real danger, Lamby.” Ratau assures them. “The One Who Waits will take good care of you. No matter how bad things get, always know that he will take your pain away and bring you back home. Come on now.” Pushing up to his feet and using his walking stick for support, he reaches a hand out to help Lamby up too. “There’s a few things you should know before you leave.”

Taking his hand, Lamby joins him as they walk up the stairs to the old shrine. Along the way, Ratau shares what knowledge he can with the little lamb, showing them how the crown’s void works and how to fill it, how the teleportation stones worked so they could get back home and send anyone who’s in trouble back to safety. They were already quick to draw a weapon to defend themself but using his walking stick, he tries to show them some very rudimentary self defense tricks that Aym taught him ages ago.

Their sword seemed way too big. They had no idea what they were doing and even with his guidance they still looked terrified. This must be what his friends felt every time he left on his crusades. The thought of letting this poor kid venture out alone into the Darkwood terrified him, but he knew they were in good hands. They’ll make it back home, hopefully with enough materials and tools to start getting real work done around here.

Stepping beneath the archway into the site of the old shrine, Ratau and Lamby stand before the stone statue of the crown, cracked and worn with time. The door leading to the Darkwood was sealed over once again, vines and roots barring entry. It’s been an incredibly long time since he’s done anything like this, but the old shrine here will need his devotion to allow Lamby passage.

“I’m going to warn you ahead of time, what’s about to happen next is really scary.” Ratau tells Lamby, kneeling down and clasping his hands together. “The crown can be a weapon and a tool, but it is capable of incredible things itself, though it must use you to do anything. Acting as its conduit is jarring and your autonomy is taken from you, but just as the lord is always protecting you, the crown will always serve you. You will regain control again soon, just let it do its thing.”

Lamby looks beyond concerned by his words, but they give him a short nod. As frightened as they were, they trusted him. Giving them a warm smile, Ratau bows his head and closes his eye.

He prays to the statue of the Red Crown, to The One Who Waits, begging it to grant Lamby the strength they need to proceed into the Darkwood and for them to return unharmed. It isn’t long before he feels a shift in the air as his devotion feeds the shrine. In a brilliant flash of light, one bright enough to nearly blind him even through his closed eyelids, the shrine erupts into a holy flame which burns away at the vines and thorns sealing the gates to the Darkwood shut. Glancing over at Lamby, they are frozen in place, their eyes a brilliant red as the crown uses them as a conduit to perform this miracle.

Just as suddenly as the flash appears, it vanishes. Lamby stumbles back in a panic, tripping over themselves and falling on their butt. They gasp for breath, reaching their hands up to their face and panicking even more when their hands come back bloody from the red tears streaming down their face. Ratau quickly rushes over to them, helping them back onto their feet.

“I told you it’d be scary, but it’s over now.” Ratau assures them. “Look what you were able to do.” Hoping it will distract them from their bleeding eyes, Ratau points at the door leading to the Darkwood which has now been cleared for them. It seems to do the trick as Lamby’s fear and shock gives way to awe. They stare at their hands in disbelief, questioning if it really was them that did this.

They were capable of so much more, and once they realize that, they’ll have nothing to fear anymore.

“Just keep what I told you in mind, Lamby.” Ratau pats them on the back, leading them towards the door. “The One Who Waits is watching over you, as is the crown on your head. I cannot come with you as I must remain here, but know that whatever happens, you will return home safe. Head out and bring back what you can. I’ll be waiting.”

Lamby looks reluctant to leave, even with all of Ratau’s assurances. Ratau himself remembers how scared he was to venture off all on his own and he didn’t even have someone to help guide him. The kid will be fine.

Eventually, Lamby musters up the courage to step forward. With one more glance backwards and a shy smile, they venture into the Darkwood to embark on their first of many crusades.

Ratau only wishes he was strong enough to travel alongside them.

They were all alone again…

The silence of the empty woods which once brought them comfort now felt crushingly lonely. No one was here to hurt them, they didn’t have to hide, but in the short time since they’ve met him, the rat made them realize just how much they missed having someone close, how much they missed Mother… They’ve been all alone for so long, having someone who actually cared about them again, someone who wanted to keep them safe, they never wanted to be left alone ever again.

Thankfully, at least partially, they’ll never be alone now.

The big cats, the god, The One Who Waits... They were chosen to carry out his will. They were saved before they could feel the axe cut into their flesh and in exchange, they must loyally serve him. They were scared, the big god towered over them and had so many demands, but it was through him that they found Ratau. He came to them again last night, telling them to follow Ratau’s instructions, to let him guide them and teach them how to better serve.

They want to go back to him. They want to go home. It’s been so long since they had a safe place to stay, it felt wrong to be outside again.

Ratau and Tana needed food though. Their home was barren and empty and everyone was sleeping on the dirt. They needed to help their new friends for everything they did to help them.

Lamby wanders the woods, their crown in hand as they pick up everything even remotely interesting. Big rocks and sticks, berries from bushes, pretty looking flowers. All of it goes into the mouth of the crown, disappearing into its inky blackness. It fascinated them to no end. How deep was it? Was there anything else waiting in there like the big book Ratau pulled out? Could they somehow crawl inside and hide if dangerous people try to hurt them?

Sticking another big rock into the crown, they look down at it and stare into its eye. It blinks back up at them. Ratau said that it would serve them, does that mean it’s alive? Is it another friend?

Lamby had never fought before, but the night they were crowned, they must have hurt dozens of people. It was like the crown was moving on its own, dragging their hand along to swing the sword. It was scary, they didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they also didn’t want to get hurt. The crown wanted to keep them safe which meant hurting the people who wanted to hurt them. Even Ratau was ready to fight to save Tana instead of running. They were going to have to learn how to fight, no matter how much it scared them. The One Who Waits wants them to fight the terrifying monsters who watched over their execution, but they don’t know if they’re strong enough to do that.

For now, they focus on gathering things to bring home with them. The gods are all terrifying beasts, these woods are filled with monsters and bad people, but they have a home now, someplace safe where they can rest their head without fear. Someplace where there were people who cared about them. They need to make it safer, more comfortable, and just as Ratau risked his life to save Tana, they need to find more people in trouble to bring home with them. Even The One Who Waits wanted them to have more friends.

They cut across the clearing, picking away at more berries and mushrooms as they go when their ears catch a noise that alarms them. They freeze solid, the crown in their hands immediately shifting into a blade to protect them. They strain their ears, trying to pin the source of the noise when they realize it’s coming from up above.

Looking up, they find golden trinkets glittering in the sunlight. They stare up at them for a while, mesmerized by the sight as they consider climbing up the nearest tree to maybe take some of the pretty things home to decorate with. In the time they stand there though, they take notice of other sounds and smells that eluded them until now. There was a fire burning nearby, someone was close.

Lamby presses forward very carefully, returning the crown to their head. They hope beyond hope that this will be another friendly face. Friendly people were few and far between, but now that they had the means of getting out of trouble, they wanted to at least try to make a new friend.

Stepping into an open clearing, Lamby finds themself standing in front of a strange old man dressed in red sitting in a large tent surrounded by colorful rugs and candles. The man does not startle or shy away from them as so many often do. He is unbothered by what they are.

"Praise the Lamb, conduit to great power, promised liberator of the One That Waits Below.” The man speaks as Lamby tentatively approaches him, flinching back slightly as he does. “So the cards showed me, once. Many lifetimes ago… Care to take a seat with me?”

Lamby is hesitant to get any closer. He knew who their friend was and wasn’t calling to have their head chopped off, they should be fine to sit down, right? The old man gives them a warm smile, one that reminds them a lot of Ratau. Stepping forward, Lamby sits themself down on the rug laid out in front of his tent, cautiously looking around in the nearby woods to make sure they were alone with him.

“Are…” Lamby clears their throat. They were still used to speaking up, there wasn’t a point in staying quiet anymore. “Are you a friend?”

The old man nods. “I am Clauneck, the fortune teller. I have been waiting for you for some time. The cards have foretold of this meeting for many centuries. An endling chosen by the banished god of death to become his vessel. I feel I already know you despite this being our first meeting. Would you like to see what the cards have in store for you?”

“Cards?” Lamby looks down to find a small deck of cards resting between them and Clauneck. Were they always there? They checked the old man for weapons within reach, they would have taken notice of the deck of cards.

“These cards allow me to commune with the threads of fate and destiny.” Clauneck tells them. “Through them I have told the fortunes of the gods, including the one you serve and the man who came before you.”

“Ratau?” Lamby perks up. Clauneck knew his friend?

“He came to me long ago, a young man as wee as you.” Clauneck nods. “While he was not spoken of in the prophecies of Shamura, the hands of fate still spun his thread. His fortune is still in effect, his future uncertain. For his sake, I pray he hasn’t forgotten the card’s warning. Perhaps he will appear in your fortune, little lamb. Shall we?”

Lamby looks down at the cards and nods their head. This was another friend, someone who was helping them complete their mission for their new god. They would have to ask Ratau what their fortune was like when they got back home. Watching Clauneck reach a bony hand out to the deck of cards, he takes the top card and flips it over onto the rug between them.

“Gifts from below.” Clauneck says. “The cards believe your lord and flock will be very generous. Perhaps disheartened by the failure of your predecessor, your lord will shower you in praise and gifts to ensure your loyalty. Of course, that is but one reading of this card. Perhaps your fate will be determined not by many gifts, but one.”

“I like gifts.” Lamby says. There were not many happy memories they had to fall back on, but one of the few that stuck with them on their darkest nights was the first time they ever had a cake.

Mother had hidden them away in an abandoned shed at the furthest edge of a lively settlement. Not too many people ventured that far and it was close enough for mother to sneak around at night to gather food. One night, she had brought something special back for them. They originally thought it was a piece of bread with some spread on top, but when they took a bite… They had never experienced something so sweet.

Even after mother was gone and they were left all alone, they pushed on, hoping that maybe one day they’d get to eat something as sweet as that again.

“I fear that presents and generosity are not all you have in store…” Clauneck says as he reaches down for the deck and draws a second card, setting it down beside the first. “Blazing trail.” The fortune teller’s tone takes a sudden dip, one that frightens Lamby. “Your path will be rife with conflict.” He warns. “The bishops, their disciples, even your own flock will fight you every step of the way to your ultimate goal. You must face these conflicts and challenge them head on, lest you risk joining the rest of your kind.”

Lamby lowers their head. That was what they were most afraid of. They don’t fight, they run and hide. They feel that they can make a safe place to hide other people like them, but that isn’t what their lord wanted. He wanted them to kill the other gods, to punish his torturers and set him free. Lamby didn’t like them or the people who hunted them, but they don’t know if they’re ready to go out and hurt other people.

They wish their mother were still here to tell them what to do, but they were on their own. They would have to make up their mind soon.

“One more card.” Clauneck says, reaching for the deck once more. “These last cards are often the most important.” Flipping the final card, Lamby is confused to see that the design for this one appears upside down. “The hands of rage, inverse.” Clauneck says. “I see unbridled wrath in your future. Surrounded by hatred, rage will brew within you as well, and while that fury will fuel you in your crusade, it can also destroy you and what you hold dear. Keep yourself in check, do not let it blind you.”

Lamby feels the weight of this warning fall over them. How could they be blinded by hatred when they don’t have a hateful bone in their body? They didn’t even hate the bishops who did this to them, they were just… confused. Why? What did they do to deserve this? What did Mother do to deserve this? Why were the other kids allowed to play while they were forced to hide? Why was everyone so afraid of them?

They watch as Clauneck returns the cards to the deck, shuffling them. “Your fortune has been told. The path laid out before you is not immutable, your every action determines your fate. Heed the warning of the cards and you may triumph in the face of the great evils you will encounter on your long journey as a vessel of the Red Crown.” Lamby nods their head grimly, committing his words to memory. It was becoming difficult to keep track of everything they’ve been told in a couple days after years of isolation, but this seems important. “Now, before you depart, would you like to draw a card yourself?”

“I can?” Lamby asks, looking down at the deck of cards.

“That is my gift to you.” Clauneck nods with a smile. “All divine beings who allow me to draw their fortunes may take a card. May it keep you safe on your crusade.”

With a bit of excitement, Lamby reaches down and draws a card off the top of the deck, flipping it over, they find a picture of a bottle with what looks like a little foot inside of it. It looks very silly. Lamby looks up to Clauneck to see if he can tell them what this card means, but they find nothing at all. They sit petrified, their head whipping back and forth as the small camp the fortune teller had set up was now completely gone. Even the rug they were sitting on had vanished, leaving them sitting on the grass. All that remains is the card in their hand.

They’re left stunned on the ground, unable to even make sense of what happened until the Red Crown floats off the top of their head. Hovering just beside them, they flip over, presenting its deep pocket to put the card in for safe keeping.

There was so much about this world that they didn’t know about, so many mysteries that they were only now uncovering. It was thanks to this crown and the lord it belongs to that they’re alive to discover them.

Perhaps that’s the gift the fortune teller spoke of; a second chance at life, the opportunity to live without fear. Maybe their dream of eating something sweeter than cake won’t have to stay a dream.

Maybe Mother’s last wish will come true.

As night falls, dangerous beasts reveal themselves.

Lamby was used to the dangers of the Darkwood, but never before has it been this treacherous. The moment the sun went down and they were forced to wander in the dark, bats descended from above and ravenous bush worms charged at them from the thicket.

Thankfully, they found it surprisingly easy to run away from the beasts. They had noticed how strangely energetic they’ve felt since they were given the crown, but not even during their escape were they able to run this fast. Barely anything was able to keep pace with them and the few monsters who could were able to be fended off with their sword.

As the night wore on, they never tired, though they grew more anxious as the moon rose overhead. How long would it take them to make it back home from here? Was what they found enough to take care of everyone? It was hard to forage when they were forced to run around so much.

What if someone follows them home? What if they get lost and can’t find their way back? What if they take too long and the two men back home starve? What if…

They freeze in place, their legs no longer able to move. There was a terrible chill in the air, one that sunk into their core and froze the marrow in their bones. Something was coming, something big, something they fear they can’t run from even if they could move their legs.

They stand petrified as a gust of wind whips through the tall grass and the shadows seem to grow darker around them. They try and will themself to run, to hide, to throw themselves to the ground and be still, anything to avoid the monster approaching them from the darkness of the woods. Thorny vines snake through the grass towards them and they pray that the crown on their head will keep them away, but even the crown sits petrified on their head.

Lamby squeezes their eyes shut, waiting for the worst to happen… but nothing does.

They open their eyes to find the vines lying still just at their feet. Lamby finds themselves in the shadow of something terribly large and slowly raises their head to find one of the four monsters who oversaw their execution. No eyes stare down at them from behind the bloodied blindfold wrapped around their head, but Lamby still remains petrified underneath them.

“How…” Leaves rustle from the monster's head as it speaks. “How can this be?! I heard the blade slice into flesh, your head hitting the muck, your lifeforce spurting out of the stump that was left behind. You’re supposed to be dead! We ended you so that he could not get his hands on you, but… The Red Crown… The prophecy…”

There's a tremble in the god’s voice. Was he… Was he scared?

“No…” The god shakes his head. “No, this is just another desperate attempt at escape. Once again he’s pawned his crown off to a child in the hopes that it will somehow save him. We banished him to the lowest pits of hell and yet he still finds ways to sink lower and lower.” The god leans forward, looming over Lamby who still stands petrified beneath him. “Are you at least fun to toy with? Got any good jokes like the foolish rat?”

Lamby still remains motionless, their throat dry and tears threatening to spring free. Their mind was completely blank with terror. They pray to their new lord to save them again, to take them away from this monster.

The god lets out a disappointed grumble. “It’s even worse than I thought.” It growls. “The rat at least had some guts to stand up to me before I splattered him all over the dirt. Speak!” Lamby flinches, taking a step back away from the god. “Fine…” The god straightens out, towering over Lamby. “If you will not entertain me, I suppose I’ll have to make my own fun. You have one minute, little lamb. One minute to run and hide.” Lamby looks up at the god in shock. What happens in one minute? Is it going to chase them? Is it going to- “You’re wasting precious time.” A horrible smile reveals itself from beneath the leaves on its head. “Turn tail and run, little lamb!”

Stumbling backwards, Lamby flees into the thicket, desperate to get away from this monster before their time is up. As they do, they hear a horrible laughter echo through the woods around them.

They hated this. Why was it doing this to them? What did they do to deserve this? Tears sting in their eyes as they run, their legs moving faster than they ever have in their life. They have to get away, they have to escape from this monster, they have to-

Something wraps around their ankle and they fall to the ground, landing hard in the dirt as they’re suddenly dragged backwards. The laughter of the terrible god grows louder and louder as they are dragged kicking and screaming back into its clutches.

Lamby squeezes their eyes shut just as they had at their execution, not wanting to see death coming.

They open their eyes and are once again blinded by the endless stretch of white all around them. Their pain fades and the stillness of their heart allows the terror that consumed them to slowly bleed out of their system. They died, but once more, they were saved.

They look around the empty landscape they find themself in, surrounded by bones and towering chains. A thick fog permeates the land, but from that fog, two figures emerge and approach them. Lamby had seen the two kneeling beside the big cat, but they hadn’t said a word to them in their two meetings. This was the first time someone had come for them.

“Rise, chosen vessel.” One of the cats commands, standing at attention with their staff held beside them, their white garb blending in with the desert around them.

“The lord demands your audience, lamb.” The second cat states, a scar cutting across one eye, their dark cloak contrasting against the light ash.

Slowly pushing to their feet, Lamby stares up at the two strange men as they turn their backs on them, marching forward into the fog and expecting them to follow. Lamby does as instructed, though they shiver as they do. Following behind these big, scary, armed men reminds them too much of their walk to the chopping block.

The fog parts and they see him again, the big cat, The One Who Waits. He towers over the land, bigger than anything Lamby’s ever seen. Impossibly large and heavy looking chains hold him in place, binding his arms and body to the ground. They dig painfully into his arms where exposed bone leaks a constant stream of icky black blood all over the sand beneath him. Lamby remembers how painfully tight their chains were when they were captured, how their wrists were rubbed raw by the rough metal. They can’t imagine how painful it must be to have been worn down to the bone like that.

“How do you feel?” The big cat speaks, his voice booming and loud. Lamby knows that he means no harm, but they flinch anyway, intimidated by the powerful god. “What emotions broil within your heart after your meeting with the traitor Leshy?”

Lamby cowers under his gaze, still shaken by their encounter with the monster in the woods. The two smaller cats watch on, waiting for them to answer. When they fail to find the courage to raise their voice, one of the cats speaks.

“Do you feel anger?” The one in black asks, tightening his grip on his staff. “Do you feel hatred towards he who has hurt so many?”

“Were you afraid?” The one in white asks. “Are you scared of the monsters that rule the world?”

Lamby nods their head. “Why…” They manage to ask, their voice barely coming out as a squeak. “Why did they do this to me?” Staring up at their lord, three eyes stare back down at them.

Behind the strings covering his face, Lamby thinks they see a smile form for only a moment before it disappears.

“He hates you.” The One Who Waits says. “He hates you, the man who came before you, your parents, your kind. He has slaughtered thousands with a smile on his face. He even laughed when I begged him for help, when iron chains bit into my skin and I faced eternal imprisonment. He is a hateful, traitorous, sadistic monster who wants you dead.”

“But why?!” Lamby repeats, feeling tears sting in their eyes. “What did I do? What did Mommy do?!”

“Nothing.” The One Who Waits tells them. “Many centuries ago, my greatest disciple was a lamb just like you. I cared for them deeply, and it is for that reason the bishops slaughtered them all. They hate me, and by extension, they hate you. They have exterminated your kin, they have hunted the old man who guides you, and now that they know you exist and bear my crown, they will not rest until you are broken. They will kill you over and over and over…”

“But the lord will bring you back to life.” The cat in white says with a warm smile.

“You will not let the monsters break you.” The cat in black tells them with a wicked smirk.

“Countless have suffered under the tyranny of the Old Faith, but you will put an end to it.” The One Who Waits tells them, leaning forward until his chains are pulled taut. “You have absolutely nothing to fear, little lamb. You will grow stronger, you will become a vessel for the righteous fury of all who have been wronged by the traitors. The countless children who have died clinging to their mothers, the old men whose hearts gave out in fear of the monsters at night, the god who stands before you battered and bloodied, betrayed by his own. Fight for us, kill for us, avenge the innocent souls who were snuffed out just like you.”

It all sounds so grand, so intimidating, so impossible. “How?” Lamby asks. They want to help. These are the only people who have been nice to them since Mother died and they want them to prevent the same terrible things that happened to them from happening to other people. They wanted more friends, more people who were nice to them, more people they could trust and feel safe around.

At their question, The One Who Waits lifts a hand until the chains are pulled tight. At the motion, the two smaller cats step forward.

“I am Aym.” The one in black says, bowing his head. “I shall train you in the ways of the warrior, sharpening your blade and your skills so that you may slay our enemies.”

“I am Baal.” The one in white is next, bowing his head just as the other cat did. “I will be your teacher, sharpening your wit and revealing to you the secrets of godhood so you may lead your flock properly.”

“There is another who will guide you.” The One Who Waits says as the two smaller cats step forward to take them away. “The one who came before you, the rat. He has gone through the same trials and tribulations as you will, and he will ensure the New Faith will flourish. I expect great things from you…”

”Do not disappoint me like he did.”

Once again, Ratau finds himself waking early in the morning with his back screaming at him. More leaves didn’t help much, he needed something with real cushion. Struggling to sit himself up, he looks around the clearing at the work he’s done in the early morning light.

There still wasn’t much he could do without tools or Lamby’s help, but it was already looking significantly nicer. He and Tana were able to gather up a lot of the loose rubble and dry wood lying around to build a decent stockpile and they managed to pick every berry and mushroom in the clearing. Ratau was used to living off the land, but even his cabin in the woods had more comforts than this. Maybe he should take the long journey back up there to gather valuable supplies and bring it back.

No, that’d take far too long. He was just going to have to rely on Lamby to bring enough back to make this work. They’ve been out for a full day now. He hopes they’re doing alright on their own. They’ll make it back eventually, though he’s hoping they make it back in one piece and of their own volition instead of being sent back by force.

Struggling to push to his feet, he notices a sudden red flash at the top of the stairs overlooking the clearing. With a renewed sense of urgency, Ratau grabs hold of his walking stick and hurries towards the stairs. Was this them, or have they brought someone home?

Making it to the top of the stairs, he finds Lamby sat in the center of the stone, looking around in confusion and awe. They light up at the sight of him though, pushing up to their feet to rush over to him.

“How did your first trip go?” He asks, more than a little worried. His first trip through that door didn’t go very well for him and he already got in some practice before then. Poor Lamby went in completely blind.

Lamby pouts, lowering their head slightly. That wasn’t a good sign, but before he can ask what’s wrong, they take their crown off and reach inside. Pulling their hand out, they hold out a fistful of berries up to him. They wear a big, proud smile on their face.

“Good job, kiddo!” Ratau tells the little lamb, reaching down and patting their head between their horns while the crown is in their hands. “I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble to get your hands on this stuff. Why don’t we wake up Tana and show him what you found? I’m sure he’ll warm up to you pretty quickly once he sees the gifts you brought back home with you.”

“Oh!” Forcing the berries into Ratau’s hands to free their own, Lamby reaches back into the crown for something else. They rummage around for a while, growing more frustrated until they take their arm out to hold the crown up to their eye to look inside. “I got a card, but…” They look incredibly disappointed.

“Ah, you met the owl, did you?” Ratau chuckles. “Don’t worry, Lamby. You’ll see him again and get a new card. Did he tell your fortune?” Lamby nods their head. “Then come sit down by the fire and let's hear it. It’s been ages since I heard mine, but I’ll recount my first visit. You’ll probably meet a few other interesting people out there along the way.”

“Friends?” Lamby asks.

“Yes, they’re friends.” Ratau nods. “Come on now.”

Taking Lamby’s hand, he guides them down the stairs towards the campfire. If they had any trouble during their trip outside, they were really good at hiding it. That, or maybe they were just glad to be home. It won’t be the only crusade they go on, but he hopes that they’ll be a bit less anxious to go on their second with a bit more guidance.

Chapter Text

“Do they still remember me?”

Many weeks have passed since he returned to the old clearing and things were starting to look somewhat respectable. Five more have joined them, including a convert named Amdusias who Leshy had transformed. They did not have a doctor within the flock, but Ratau was able to create a poultice out of the camellias Lamby had picked during their crusades to treat the strange lesions on Amdusias’ head.

With the extra hands and the extra materials brought home by Lamby, they were able to put together very basic shelters. Small little makeshift tents are scattered around the clearing as everyone tries to make themselves comfortable. They had food, they had shelter, they were quickly growing a community, but there were a couple of things missing before this place could really get going, something that the converted zealot brought a lot of attention to.

They needed a shrine and a temple to worship their lord.

It would be difficult without someone like Shrumy who was actually experienced enough to build sturdy buildings, but they’ll manage. Eventually Ratau will be able to direct the Tortoise in Lamby’s direction to really spruce this place up. In the meantime, they were going to have to settle for effigies made out of rocks and sticks and a shoddily built temple to keep the rain out.

Lamby sat in front of Ratau’s tent as he goes over the plans and the conversation eventually turns to what Lamby will say once they have a temple built. As the figurehead of the New Faith, they would have to preach the word of The One Who Waits. Ratau was preparing himself to try and teach Lamby how to read the scriptures within the lord’s grimoire, but to his surprise, they were already learning on their own. Death’s disciples must have been teaching them on the few nights they try to fall asleep, leading to his question.

“Hmm?” Lamby pulls their eyes away from the book to look up at him.

“Aym and Baal.” Ratau elaborates. “Do they still remember me? Do they talk about me?” It was dumb, but he sometimes felt jealous of this little lamb. More than anything, he wanted to serve his lord and bring the fight to the Old Faith, but it is no longer his duty to fight. He misses the praise his lord used to bestow upon him, the brothers who taught him so much, the cool, quiet serenity of the afterlife.

After a moment, Lamby nods their head. “Aym says I’m not as fast as you.” They eventually say. They’ve gotten used to talking more often now, a sign that they’re starting to open up and trust others. “Baal does too, but for different reasons.”

“They’re calling you slow?” Ratau says with a frown. “Well that’s not very nice of them.”

“Aym says I’m hard headed.” Lamby continues, reaching up and rubbing one of their horns. “I’m not as fast, but I’m stubborn and hit really hard. He says he likes that and that I’m not a cheat like you.”

“Ha!” Ratau barks out with laughter. “He’s still bitter about the few times I managed to actually catch him by surprise. His brother said it best, war is won through deception and careful planning, not brute strength. Good to know he hasn’t changed a bit… probably in more ways than one.” Ratau sighs, sitting himself up straighter so his back doesn’t lock up on him. “How have your studies been with Baal?”

“It’s really hard.” Lamby pouts. “He’s frustrated by how little I know and how many questions I ask. There’s so many things I never got to learn.”

“Yeah, he can get pretty grouchy.” Ratau nods, remembering all the times Baal snapped at him for asking too many questions. “He’s just trying to teach you the important stuff as fast as possible. He doesn’t have as much patience as the lord does, but he means well. You’re already doing well and if you have any other questions, I’d be glad to help teach you too.”

Lamby gives Ratau a big smile before returning their attention to the grimoire. It’s so nice to see the kid smiling so much. They were a terrified, nervous wreck when Ratau first found them, but in the few weeks since they were crowned, they’ve built up a lot of courage and felt safe enough to be seen by others. They still have moments when they lock up, usually whenever there’s an argument amongst the flock or when they return home from a crusade, but the moment they’re sat down with Ratau, it all goes away.

“Say, Lamby?” Ratau speaks up and gets the lamb’s attention again. “As important as it is to learn the scriptures, we should discuss how we’ll build the shrine and the temple first before you get too invested in your reading.”

“Ok…” Lamby grumbles with a pout, closing up the book before allowing the crown to swallow it back up into the void. “What do you need me for?” They ask. “I don’t know how to build.”

“Well you can always learn, but there’s a much simpler reason for why I’m bothering you about this.” Ratau explains. “I’ve seen you leaving camellias around the place to try and make it look nice. I figured this is your place now, you should pick where everything’s gonna go and how you want it to look.”

“I can pick where everything goes?!” Lamby lights up.

“Well yeah, you’re the boss around here.” Ratau chuckles at their excitement. “You can pick where the houses go, where the temple will be built, what color you want it to be. You can decorate everything however you want, this is your home.”

Lamby’s eyes go wide with wonder. Ratau can already tell that the kid must have some knack for design. He can’t imagine they’ve stuck around in one place for too long before now so they’re jumping at the opportunity to make their permanent home as nice as it can possibly be. Pushing up to their feet, they look around before pointing out a spot near the center of the clearing.

“I want to put the temple right there, the doors facing the stairs.” They say. “And I want to plant a bunch of pretty flowers by the stairs too so they create a pathway towards it. I want people’s houses to go over there and… oh, we should move the cooking pot right next to where the temple will be so everyone will smell the good food while they’re inside!”

“Sounds like you’ve already got everything figured out.” Ratau laughs, already picturing all Lamby’s requests in his head. “But the first thing we’re gonna need to do is build a shrine so you can get stronger. Where should we put that?”

Lamby rests their fist on their chin as they look around the clearing again. It doesn’t take long before they point out the spot. “Right next to the fire there, facing the temple so when people come out it will be the first thing they see.”

“Then it will be done.” Ratau says. “We can start working on it today if you’d like. The sooner we build it up, the sooner you can start getting stronger. It will also help everyone here get more comfortable with The One Who Waits once they’re able to get a decent look at him.”

“Huh?” Lamby turns to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Ratau also turns to look at them, raising a brow. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking. After we build the shrine, people will know what our god looks like and they’ll be able to relate to him better.”

After a moment, Lamby shakes their head. “Why not build a shrine for me?” They ask.

That gives Ratau some pause. “Well… You’re the leader of this place, but the whole reason we’re starting up the New Faith is to give praise to The One Who Waits, not you. You’ll of course receive praise yourself from your flock and our lord, but-”

“But I’m what the bishops are scared of.” Lamby interrupts. “The lord told me that I was hunted because I was a symbol of his power. The bishops are scared of me, scared that I will save him and they spread that fear to everyone. I don’t want to be feared. The lord loved the lambs and that’s why they were killed, so instead of making a shrine to him, why not make one of me? Fill the world with more lambs, make the sight of a lamb a symbol of good instead of one that people fear.”

Ratau is left stunned for a moment before he finds his voice again. “Well I gotta say, you make a pretty good argument there.” He says with a smirk. “Praying to the lord’s vessel instead of the lord himself might not please him very much, but if it does the job, I doubt he’ll be complaining once you start cutting chains. Also, it’d be way easier making an effigy of you over the lord. It took me forever to get the chains looking right.”

“Also,” Lamby speaks up, “I want this place to look pretty. I don’t want to be mean, but the lord doesn’t look very nice. He looks scary.”

“Well don’t let him hear that.” Ratau chuckles. “I can’t imagine it’s easy to take care of yourself when you can barely move. Are you sure about this though?”

“Yes.” Lamby nods. “People have been afraid of me and turned away from me for all my life. I want people to feel safe around me. I want them to see a great big statue of me and feel protected. Mother always made me feel safe whenever she was near.”

Ratau couldn’t really argue with them anymore after that. The kid brought up their mother constantly. She was the only anchor of safety they had growing up before they were left to fend for themself. They missed her dearly, so if building a big mama sheep in the center of the village made them feel safe and happy, who was he to say no? As long as the others worship it, it will get the job done. As long as chains are broken, the lord will allow it.

“Give me some time to limber up and I’ll help you get started.” Ratau promises, crawling out of his small tent to stretch himself out. “In the meantime, find whatever you want it to be made of. Drag a big log over by the fire, gather some sticks and twine. Once we get this done, we can focus on the temple next.”

“Ok!” Lamby gives him a big smile before running off to the woods, the crown on their head forming into an axe to fell the nearest tree. To have that much energy again… Taking up his walking stick, Ratau begins to pace around the grounds of the new village to warm himself up for the task ahead of him.

Walking around the clearing, Ratau can’t help but feel painfully nostalgic. He used to walk this exact path several decades ago and with the state the village is in now, it reminded him so much of how uncertain and desperate his friends had been when they first found this place. He kept expecting to see Gnatri anxiously fidgeting by the fire or Lyrcai looking for something to do to keep busy.

He wanted to check on Karacyth to make sure he was doing alright despite the poor conditions, but he wasn’t here. He’s been gone for ages. Maybe hearing Lamby talk about how much they miss their mother was reminding him of how much he missed the old man. Never again… He must never let something like that happen again.

Looking over the flock, most are gathered by the fire. With the exception of Amdusias who is still recovering from his battle and transformation, everyone here was rescued by Lamby. Some were taken from the cultists trying to hurt them like Tana while others were found lost in the woods or hiding in raided camps or settlements. There weren’t many of them and a few of them were still wary of the lamb, but all of them were grateful for the help and the safe place to stay. Lamby was still learning to read scripture so Ratau has been spreading the word of The One Who Waits in their stead, turning the handful of lost and scared souls into devout worshipers of the god of death.

Well, maybe Amdusias is a devout follower. Everyone else was still skeptical of the whole idea, but the Red Crown on Lamby’s head could not be ignored. They possess godly power, and once they learn how to master it, everyone will witness miracles which will make them swear loyalty to The One Below.

“Ratau!” Drawn from his mind, Ratau turns at the lamb’s call only to do a double take as they roll a massive log towards him with seemingly no effort at all. “Is this big enough?”

“That’s more than enough, kiddo!” Ratau says a bit anxiously. “Don’t roll that thing around too fast, alright? That thing could flatten someone if you lose control of it.”

“I’ll be careful!” Lamby promises, slowing their pace a little bit and letting the momentum of the rolling log die down before it gets too close to anything or anyone fragile. Those by the fire take notice of the absurd display of strength and start to back away as Lamby makes their way towards the site they picked out for the shrine.

Lamby slows down for a moment, their ears flicking as they turn their head to the followers who stepped aside. Did they hear something? After a moment, Ratau realizes that they definitely have. The crown granted more than just physical abilities. They must have overheard the thoughts of their followers. Wanting to test something, Ratau clasps his hands together and bows his head slightly before mouthing a silent prayer to the lord to keep Lamby safe.

Lamby’s ears flick again and they turn to face him. Ratau breaks into a smile and gives them a wave. It was strange to be on the other end of this, but it’s something he’ll keep in mind for later.

With the log rolled into place, they now had to dig a deep enough hole to keep it rooted to the spot. There was already a natural divot in the earth from when Ratau had done this years ago, it shouldn’t take long to dig the loose soil back up.

“So are you all just gonna stand there and gawk?” Ratau asks the followers who watch not far from the fire. “You’re not going to let an old man and a child do this all by ourselves, are you?”

With a bit of motivation, three of the followers step forward to help dig and plant the log back into the ground. Even with all of their strength and power, Lamby was still reliant on others for help. They were still very shy around others, but they were going to have to learn to ask for help and make the most of their flock.

Maybe it was a bit much to ask such a shy kid to step up and become a leader, but Ratau never saw himself as leader material either. The kid’s got plenty of good teachers and they’re eager to make friends and impress others. They’ll do just fine.

Lamby couldn’t help but feel nervous sitting inside the newly built temple as they waited for everyone to arrive. After weeks walking around in the open without a care in the world, it felt wrong to be cramped inside a tight space like this. They aren’t sure how long it’s been, they’ve lost count of the days, but they spent their last weeks before they were captured hiding in a barn, feeding off the scraps the farmer who took them in left behind for them.

They were desperate. They weren’t able to go on alone anymore and needed someone to help them. The last time Lamby saw that farmer, he was counting coins as the hooded monsters dragged them away to be executed. They thought they would never be able to trust anyone ever again…

They’re so glad they were proven wrong. The One Who Waits watches over them now, guiding them and promising a world where no one will ever have to live in fear again. The brothers Aym and Baal treated them as their own sibling, teaching them to read and fight. The Red Crown on their head helped protect them at every turn while they explored the world outside, keeping the monsters and bad guys away. And finally, there’s-

“Look alive, Lamby.” Lamby jolts at the sudden noise and looks up to find Ratau peeking through the door. “They’re on their way now. Get that book ready.”

Ratau slips away to join the others and get them ready. Lamby takes a deep breath and reaches into the Red Crown, pulling the lord’s grimoire free. They wouldn’t have made it this far without Ratau. They would have been so scared and so lost, but with the old man’s help, they were able to pick themselves up from rock bottom. He was so wise, so patient, so unwaveringly kind.

Why couldn’t everyone be like him?

The doors open up again and their small flock starts to funnel in. Lamby tries to clear their throat, feeling very nervous about what they were about to do. They could fearlessly charge into the woods and fight monsters, but they were still shy around other people. They already felt twitchy underneath the collective gaze of everyone in the room with them.

Standing at the very front of the crowd was Ratau, looking up at them on the stand with a warm smile. They can do this.

“H-hello.” Lamby greets their flock as they settle in. Everyone bows their heads and mumbles out a greeting back and for a moment everyone’s eyes are off them and they’re able to focus. “Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me a-and the lord to see you here. We all worked really hard to build this place and to celebrate, I wanted to tell you all my story and share some words from our lord.”

Everyone looks up at them expectantly, waiting to hear their story. As eager as Lamby is to share, they struggle to find the courage to speak. All their life they were told to remain silent and parting with secrets felt like a death sentence even though they knew they could trust these people. They wanted to share after hearing all of Ratau’s stories though. Hearing him talk about his life growing up, the struggles he endured under the Old Faith, how he kept his chin up and led his people, it was inspiring. They wanted to inspire their followers too.

Taking a deep breath, they force themself to speak despite how nervous they were.

“Before I met The One Who Waits, there was only one person in the world I knew I could trust.” They say, staring down at the book in front of them so they don’t get too nervous at the eyes staring up at them. “My mother was the nicest, sweetest person in the whole world. The world was a scary place, especially for us, but she did everything she could to make me feel safe and happy. I was so young back then but I still remember everything she told me. I remember the lullabies she sang to me at night, the sweets she risked her life to get me, the smile on her face every time she saw her little lamb.”

Lamby reaches up to rub at their eyes, tears springing free as they do. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I lost her…” They sniffle. “The Old Faith found us. We were forced to run, but we had nowhere to go. We were going to be caught no matter how far we ran, so… She hid me away and told me to not come out until everything was all quiet. I asked how long it would take her to come back and… She said she wouldn’t… She ran as far away from me as possible and the Old Faith followed her. I was left all alone, saved only by her sacrifice.”

They have never told this story to another soul. Their mother’s selfless sacrifice was only ever known to them. Looking into the crowd, they see looks of horror, grief, even guilt. They never understood why people hated them so much growing up, why they had to hide, why even after saving these people they were afraid. As painful as it was to recount the story of their mother’s death, it was a relief to see that people actually cared. They were all victims under the Old Faith, but they were united together now under the watchful eyes of their lord.

“I could not trust anyone after that.” Lamby continues. “I spent the rest of my life hiding and running, having no one I could turn to for help or safety due to the hatred spread by the Old Faith. I lived all on my own for years until I couldn’t go on anymore and I was forced to rely on someone else for help. Only a few weeks later after allowing myself to be vulnerable, that trust was betrayed and I was hauled away to be executed.”

“But before the axe could take my head, I was saved. I never thought I’d ever be able to reach out to someone for help, but someone reached out to me. Our lord, The One Who Waits, was betrayed as well by the Old Faith, his own siblings. The gods hated him as much as they hated me. He only ever wanted to help, to expand his influence and comfort those who were afraid of death. Many, many years ago, he even brought someone back to life, a little lamb just like me.”

Flipping through the pages of the grimoire, they eventually find the scriptures written by said lamb. “I wish to read to you an excerpt, written by the lord himself as that lamb, his first disciple Methuselina, expressed the joys of the life they were given and the comfort they experienced in the short time they were under his care in death.”

Lamby had planned for this sermon for a couple of days now and it was Ratau who helped them pick out this excerpt to read to the flock. It was a comforting excerpt, but he picked it out mostly for their sake. They had never met another lamb or sheep beside their mother and never would, so it was inspiring to get to read something written not only by a distant ancestor of theirs, but their lord’s very first disciple. They had practiced plenty before this sermon…

But Methuselina used lots of very big words…

“To all listless vag… va… bonds, vagabonds who are fearful of what awaits us once our mortal coil is severed, fear not.” Lamby reads, already choking up on one of the bigger words. They keep their eyes on the pages, not wanting to see if anyone noticed their slip up. “Stricken with an un… incurable pee-pestilence from birth, I had perished before I had reached a year of age. Though I was incredibly young, I still viv… I still remember the su- the, um…”

Lamby stumbles more and more, their tongue tying itself up in knots inside their mouth. These weren’t even the biggest words yet but they were still struggling. Baal would probably be disappointed in them for stumbling over such easy words. They were about to consider ignoring the book entirely and making something up to avoid the embarrassment of fumbling their lines when they hear something.

”I still vividly remember the succor I was granted beyond the veil.”

Lamby looks out into the crowd, towards the old man whose voice they recognized. Ratau’s mouth was closed and his head was bowed down, but glancing upward, Ratau gives them a wink with his one eye before lowering his head again.

(Or did he just blink?)

Lamby was startled when they first started hearing voices. It’s been happening more and more frequently now that people were starting to pray regularly and they realized that they were actually overhearing people’s silent prayers and thoughts. They had even heard Ratau’s a few times, but seeing that wink, he must somehow know they can hear him. Glancing back down at the book, they realize he was trying to help them. He must have memorized the excerpt.

Clearing their throat, they continue to read the passage with a bit more confidence, knowing that Ratau will be able to silently assist them from within the crowd.

“I still vividly remember the succor I was granted beyond the veil. The fever that had ravaged my body faded away in cool waves, the debilitating nausea giving way to nothing as my body became still. The world which had become a chaotic cacophony of noise and bright lights had vanished and I found myself adrift in an endless stretch of cool, caressing fog. I was frightened, I was separated from my parents and called out for help. Dozens of consoling voices greeted me, coming seemingly from nowhere, though one figure parted through the fog to see me.”

“Many of us fear death. We are often reminded of our own mortality through the power of the other bishops of our faith. The chaos and ruthlessness of nature, the slow and creeping pain of pestilence and famine, the unspeakable horrors of war. It isn’t pretty, we are often repulsed by that which reminds us of death, but after meeting him face to face, after being comforted in his arms as I was laid to rest and promised that I would not be alone, I have discovered a macabre beauty within death.”

“I was granted life once more to serve my lord in this mortal plane, to bring solace to those who let the fear of death consume them. Death awaits us all, that is the simple nature of all living things. I too was afraid, but death is not the end. It is simply the beginning of something new, the chance to rest in peace within the kingdom of our lord. So please, live your lives to their fullest. Life is the gift the old gods bestowed upon us, one that cannot be given back easily. Do not be afraid you’ll wear yourself out, as a comforting, restful sleep awaits you when it ends under the watchful eyes of the lord.”

Lamby closes the grimoire and they’re surprised when a few cheers erupt from the crowd. It seems Methuselina’s words resonated with them too. They can’t help but feel giddy after the positive reaction, but there’s another feeling bubbling up inside them too. They felt stronger, as if the praise they were receiving was fueling a fire within them. It’s an incredible feeling, one that fills them with enough restless energy to want to run outside and expend it all.

“Sermon is over now!” Lamby announces, taking their crown off to stuff the grimoire back inside. “Let’s all go outside and eat!” That gets even more cheers out of everyone as they all turn around to head out the door. Lunch today’s going to be extra special with the stockpile they managed to get their hands on during their last crusade. They can’t wait to cook it up, even though they don’t have to eat anymore.

“You did great up there, Lamby!” The moment they step down from the stand, Ratau wraps an arm around their shoulder. “With a bit more practice, I’m sure you can get the whole building moving. You’ve got a knack for this, kid.”

“I had your help.” Lamby says a bit bashfully. “I messed up a couple of times.”

“You’ve got the book, you’ve seen how awful the lord’s handwriting is.” Ratau chuckles. “You just need more practice and you’ll be able to read it backwards if you want to. How are you feeling after your first sermon, by the way?”

“I feel really good.” Lamby tells him, rocking back and forth on their feet to try and burn off some of the excess energy. “Does it always feel this good?”

“You’ll only get stronger the bigger and more loyal your flock gets.” Ratau nods. “If you feel good now, you should visit the shrine too. I’ve noticed Amdusias kneeling before it a few times, it’s probably full of devotion waiting to be harvested. Go and give it a look, I’ll get the pot boiling for you.”

With a pat on their back, Ratau walks off to the makeshift kitchen to get lunch started. Pushing the temple doors back open, Lamby follows him out of the temple and looks out over the growing village and at the shrine overlooking it all. The towering effigy made of wood and bound together sticks isn’t the prettiest, but the big smiling face carved into stone that makes up its head never fails to put a smile on Lamby’s own face whenever they see it. A couple of people have already knelt before it to pray, moved by Lamby’s sermon and begging the lord to show them the same love and care he showed Methuselina when their time comes.

Their prayers alone already make Lamby feel stronger, but the closer they get to the shrine, they notice something strange. Panic briefly flared up within their chest as they feared that the shrine had caught fire, but it wasn’t flame radiating from the wooden structure, it was something they’ve never seen before. Strange white wisps seemed to be rising from between the twigs, crackling against everything it touched. No one knelt before the shrine seemed to pay it any mind.

Ever since they were given the Red Crown, they’ve seen all kinds of strange things. Magical old men who gave them cards and swords before disappearing without a trace, strange shrines and haunting sacrificial sites, and now this. Did these things always exist? Could they have discovered some of these things if they were brave enough to find them years ago?

Walking up to the shrine, they reach their hand out and rest it against its base. The crackling white wisps suddenly rush in, converging on their hand. They almost pull their hand away, afraid they might get burned, but the second one touches their skin, they find the sensation beyond pleasant. They rest their hand against the wood, watching as all of the gathered energy within the shrine flows into them.

Eventually the shrine falls still. Stepping back, Lamby’s whole body feels tingly and teeming with power. They felt like they could do anything. They felt like they could take on the entire world. As scary as their crusades could be, they wanted to rush out into the Darkwood right now to test their new power. The monsters in the woods won’t stand a chance and they’ll finally be able to explore without fear.

They still had lunch to make though. Besides, Ratau said he had something he needed to ask them before they ventured out again. They’ll just have to keep all this energy bottled up for now, they’ll get their chance to let it all out eventually.

Maybe if they can manage to fall asleep tonight, they’ll see if they can finally hit Aym hard enough to make him flinch.

“The lamb has returned from their crusade! Praise be!”

Ratau is woken from his mid-afternoon nap as the flock suddenly drops what they’re doing to meet up with their leader. It’s been a couple of days since they left, Ratau was actually starting to get a bit worried for the kid, but he evidently didn’t need to. They were doing just fine. Pushing himself up with his walking stick, Ratau joins the others to go meet with Lamby and welcome them home.

Coming down the stairs, Lamby gives everyone a wave with one hand as they hold someone close to them with their other. They are wrapped in a stained cloth and shivering. Even from this distance Ratau can see what looks like wooden horns lodged deep in their red fur. It looks like Lamby’s brought home another convert.

“Hi, everyone!” Lamby greets their flock with a smile. “I had a great time on my crusade! I even made a new friend! Would someone like to give Valefar here some medicine? We would both really appreciate it.”

Two members of the flock break off to help Valefar down the stairs, doing their best to console him and make him feel welcome. Everyone else makes way for Lamby, bowing their heads in reverence as they step down the stairs. Ratau waits at the bottom for them, pride welling in his heart to see how quickly they’ve grown into their role.

“Glad to see you back home safe, Lamby.” He says once they reach the bottom of the steps. “You aren’t still hurt anywhere, are you?”

“I got a few scrapes and bumps, but I’m ok!” Lamby beams. “I broke more chains today! The One Who Waits is going to be so happy! I found all these pretty flowers to decorate with, I met a new friend who sold me some sweets, and I brought home lots of treasure!”

“That’s great to hear!” Ratau gives them a pat on the back. “Now, did you also grab the things I asked you to?”

“Yes!” Lamby nods, though their smile fades slightly. “I didn’t like it though, it was really gross.”

“Well, our line of work can sometimes get dirty.” Ratau sighs, struggling to picture the kid in the same harrowing situations he ended up in. “I’ll let you talk to your followers for now, but when you’re ready, meet me in the temple and we’ll get things set. Your last big lesson is about to start.”

Lamby turns to address the gathered flock to regale them with stories of their adventures as Ratau makes his way to the temple to prepare their final lesson. It was time to show them how to perform miracles. He already spent all morning drawing up a ritual circle inside, all that was needed now were bones to offer as sacrifice.

This ritual wasn’t going to be as traumatic or taxing as his first ritual. They were just going to perform a simple harvest ritual to help the smattering of crops people have been trying to plant around the clearing grow. If things ripen up fast enough, they should have way more seeds than they do now and they’ll be able to till out an actual farm instead of a few small gardens.

Pushing open the doors to the temple, he steps inside and begins lighting candles and incense. As he lights the place up, he can’t help but marvel at how much progress Lamby is making in such a short time. It’s been a little over a month but they’ve already accomplished so much. Chains broken, temples pillaged, and almost a dozen people have been indoctrinated already.

He used to be worried that the poor kid wouldn’t be able to live up to the lord’s expectations, but Lamby was excelling them. Ratau considered himself a humble man, but he believes he’s the reason for their quick progress. Sure, Aym and Baal were doing plenty of heavy lifting themselves, but Ratau’s familiarity with the job and his relatability carried this operation. Lamby was a scared kid who would probably crack under the pressure, but with Ratau’s guiding hand, they were able to surpass him in less than half the time.

It still hurts that he could not be the lord’s liberator, but he’s glad he found his purpose in the lord’s plan.

“Ratau!” Ratau’s pulled from his thoughts as Lamby steps inside. “So how do I do magic? What do I need to do?”

“Slow down now, Lamby.” Ratau chuckles. “This isn’t like the little curses you invoke with the crown, this stuff needs a bit more work and care to do right. It requires patience, preparation, and reading. Fetch the grimoire.”

“Aw…” Lamby grumbles, removing their crown to pull out the book. As fast of a learner as they were, they did not have the patience to sit down and read. Maybe that will change once they see what the rituals within its pages are capable of.

It doesn’t take too much time. He shows them the ritual circle he drew up and where he found out how to do it in the book. Next, he goes over what incantations they’ll need to say a couple of times so they don’t make any mistakes during their sermon. Finally he has them empty their crown of the gathered remains he asked them to collect. Along with reading and having to rip the bones free of their fallen foes, Lamby was quickly losing interest in this, but they’ll soon see that the gross chores were more than worth the effort.

The bones are laid out, the ritual circle is complete. All that is required now is the devotion of others and the correct incantations to channel the crown’s power through Lamby.

Lamby takes their place on the stand and Ratau moves to gather everyone into the temple. It doesn’t take much convincing. Everyone used to be afraid of the kid and what they represented, but it’s become clear to them that the omens and rumors they heard were all falsehoods created by the Old Faith to destroy their enemies. Everyone here loved the kid now.

Joining everyone in the temple, Ratau closes the door behind him, leaving only dim candlelight and the sunlight beaming in through the small window above the stand. “Thank you all for joining me.” Lamby smiles as they look over their flock. “Many festivities await us tonight after my successful crusade, but there is something I wish to do for you all before the celebrations fully begin. The One Who Waits is grateful for the work we’ve done as a community, and through me and the sacrifices laid out before us, he can bless our humble village. Please, join hands and form a circle.”

Ratau reaches his hands out for the other members of the flock to take and while someone takes his right hand, his left remains untouched. Looking over, he finds the person on his left is Valefar, the newest member which only just arrived. He looks beyond confused and frightened. Maybe only a few hours ago he was mutated and transformed by the bishop Leshy to kill the lamb and now they were huddled in a temple and giving praise to them.

Ratau leans forward to give him a smile. The One Who Waits will never harm him as Leshy did. He was safe here. After a moment, Valafar tentatively takes Ratau’s hand, completing the circle.

Returning his attention to Lamby, Ratau watches as the kid gets to work.

Closing their eyes and holding their hands to their chest, they begin mumbling the ancient incantations written in the grimoire in front of them. With offerings and a circle provided, the ancient tongues awake something within the crown atop their head. When they open their eyes, they’re blood red. They raise their hands up into the air and the offerings on the floor begin to burn and the ritual circle starts glowing red.

The floorboards creak as the earth seems to heave beneath everyone’s feet. Panic starts to rise within the flock as the ritual circle glows brighter and brighter and the offered bones burn away into ash. Everyone was nearing their breaking point, but just before everyone lost their minds, the ritual ended. Lamby stumbles a couple of steps back, their autonomy returned to them as they wipe blood from their eyes. The earth settles beneath everyone’s feet and the ritual circle now lies still and covered in ash. Several candles went out in the commotion, leaving the temple dark.

“What the hell just happened?!” Someone within the flock finally finds the courage to speak up.

“It’s too dark in here, can someone open the door?” Lamby is still recovering from being used as a conduit for the crown, so in order to keep the flock from becoming too rowdy or panicked, Ratau steps towards the door and tries his best to calm them all down.

“There is nothing to fear.” He tells everyone, reaching for the door. “We just witnessed the power of a true god, of course the place is going to get a little rattled. Let’s just all calm down and get some fresh air while we-”

Ratau opens the doors to the temple and his words die in his throat. Everyone steps forward to see what startled him and he hears gasps of shock echo inside the temple behind him.

The whole clearing has become overgrown.

Berry bushes and trees have sprouted up all over the place, one of them even toppling over a tent. The small gardens that people tried to grow had fully blossomed. Large gourds half the size of Ratau himself, wheat stalks that towered higher than the tallest followers. Even the grass below his feet was several inches taller than it was before he stepped inside the temple.

Among the various growths that now dominate the village, several wildflowers have also grown in, dotting the clearing with color. Ratau sighs. The ritual did a little bit more than expected and this was going to be hell to clean up. He’s alone in his frustration though. Everyone behind him is left awestruck by the transformation of their home and how much has grown. Stepping down from the stand, Lamby hurries to the front of the gathered crowd to see what everyone’s freaking out over and they’re left stunned by what they find. Ratau’s never seen the kid’s eyes go so wide.

“It’s so pretty!” They gasp, stepping out into the grass to pick the nearest flower. Seeing their leader run out into the overgrowth, others start to step outside the temple to explore themselves.

“This is… This is incredible!”
“Did they really do all of this?!”
“Not even Leshy’s blessings provided a harvest so bountiful!”
“Praise the lamb!”
“All hail their wooly benevolence!”

Everyone else joins the lamb outside, marveling at the beauty that has overrun their home. It won't last once they realize they’re going to have to cut all of this grass, but for now, everyone was ecstatic. Everyone herded around Lamby, helping them pick flowers and praising them for the miracle they performed.

The ritual was a resounding success. Lamby would still need practice and there were much more harrowing rituals that they might need help with, but they now knew everything Ratau could teach. They had a following that loved them, a flourishing village to house their flock, and have proven themself worthy of the crown. Their journey was far from over, there would be hardships that not even Ratau would be able to help them overcome, but he’s confident that they’ll manage. They were headstrong, they’ll push through whatever challenges await them.

Just as promised, Lamby held a feast to celebrate their return from the successful crusade as well as the ritual they performed. They had brought home plenty from their travels, but with plenty of fresh produce literally lying on the ground, they didn’t even have to dig into their stores for everyone to eat like kings.

With a full belly and with cheeks that hurt from smiling too much, Ratau makes his way to his tent for the night, exhausted from the day’s festivities. There was going to be a lot of cleanup tomorrow, he’d need all the rest he could get.

“Ratau!” Before he could make it to his tent, however, Lamby quickly rushes over to him.

“Ah, is there anything you needed before I-” Ratau is interrupted as Lamby holds something out to him. Held between both their hands, they present a flower necklace. Lamby themself was already wearing three or four necklaces of varying quality, but the one held out to him is in pristine condition.

“I made it for you!” They tell him. “I had to practice a little to get it perfect, but I saved the prettiest flowers for you! Can you kneel down a bit?” With a smile, Ratau bows his head, reaching up and taking hold of his paper crown as Lamby brings the necklace over his head and rests it against his scarf. Replacing his crown, he straightens himself out. “You look wonderful!”

“Thank you, Lamby.” Ratau gives them a smile, looking down at the flower necklace. “The flowers smell great. I’m going to be heading to bed now though. It’s been a long day.”

“Well goodnight then, Ratau.” Lamby nods. “I’m going to make more necklaces for everyone before they wake up. I hope they all like it too.”

“They will, Lamby. They will.” Ratau assures them. “You did a good job today. I know you don’t need rest anymore thanks to your crown, but take it easy tonight. You’ve earned it.”

Running off to pick more flowers, Lamby leaves Ratau be, allowing him to make it to his tent and settle in for the night. As he closes his eye, he once again marvels at how far the kid’s come. Knowing what they’ve been through, it warms his heart knowing that they can smile so freely now.

He prays nothing takes away the joy they’re feeling now.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to go home.”

It was another beautiful late autumn morning when Ratau joined Lamby by the fire. The colder weather was going to make growing crops and flowers difficult, but the pretty colors of the leaves more than made up for the lack of flowers. Ratau has been such a great help in helping them build proper shelters for everyone so they can withstand the winter cold, but looking at him now, he looks sad.

“What?” Lamby asks, not quite sure if they heard the old man correctly.

“I need to return home before the winter.” Ratau says, confirming what they thought they heard the first time.

“But you are home.” Lamby tells him. “Your house is right there.” That earns a chuckle out of the old man, but the sad look doesn’t go away as he shakes his head.

“Did you think I just came from nowhere to help you?” He asks. “I have a home up north where I lived while waiting for you. It was a little safe haven for me built by a few friends who visit me sometimes. I really should get back.”

“B-but…” Panic starts to set in, though Lamby isn’t sure why. They aren’t in danger, they’re reasonably sure Ratau isn’t in danger either, but the thought of him leaving them all alone here… “Will you come back?”

“Oh, of course I…” Ratau pauses, a sudden shocked look on his face. Lamby isn’t sure what causes it, but Ratau suddenly reaches his hand out to take Lamby’s. “This isn’t goodbye forever, Lamby. I promise.”

“But why go at all?” Lamby argues. “Is this place not nice enough?”

“Lamby, this place is breathtaking.” Ratau tells them. “You’ve done such a great job, I’ve never felt safer, but just as your flock rely on you, I have friends who rely on me too. My home is in a tucked away clearing far to the north where traders come to hide away when the trails become too dangerous to travel. I’ve been gone for so long, I worry that they might be scared something happened to me. I don’t know how I’d feel if I found out I missed a visit from my brother. Besides, I’ve grown used to a life of solitude out in the woods. Things are far too noisy here in the thick of everything, I fear I’m starting to lose hearing.”

“But…” The panic isn’t going away, it’s only getting worse. Tears sting in Lamby’s eyes as they lean over and grab hold of Ratau, squeezing him tight. “I don’t want to say goodbye! Not yet!”

Ratau inhales sharply as if he were hit. They wonder if maybe a bee stung him, it’s been a recurring problem in the village with all the flowers they kept around, but looking up at Ratau, he stares off into the distance, his eye watery. He leans into their embrace taking in a shaky breath before he responds.

“This isn’t goodbye…” He tells them, his voice unsteady. “You go out on your own all the time, I’m just doing the same. I’ll be back.” He sniffles and blinks back tears, looking down at Lamby. “Nothing’s stopping you from trying to find the place yourself. With how much you get around, I’m sure you’ll bump into one of my friends eventually. They’d love to do trade with your village and I’m sure Shrumy would be happy to see this place thriving again. This isn’t goodbye though. Either I’ll come down to visit or you’ll find me up north. We’ll meet again, I promise.”

“Are you ok?” Lamby asks. His assurances only help with their anxiety a little bit, but seeing Ratau look so sad all of a sudden was worrying them more now.

“I’m sorry.” Ratau reaches up and wipes his eye. “I don’t like goodbyes either. I have had to say goodbye to so many friends of mine and there are some I never got the chance to say goodbye to.” Ratau takes another shaky deep breath to ground himself. “I’ve taught you all I can. You’ve built this place up, you have a loyal following, and the lord will always assist you in your holy mission. I’ve done everything I can here, now I must go home to continue my work out there, keeping traders safe and spreading the gospel along with them. I don’t really want to go, but… Sacrifices have to be made.”

Lamby hated this. They wanted to keep Ratau here, they couldn’t stand the thought of losing another… losing a friend. Ratau was so nice and smart and helpful, they aren’t sure if they’d be able to keep this place as tidy without him around. Hearing him talk about keeping other people safe is the only reason they let him go. They’d be nothing without his help, Tana would have been abandoned if Ratau didn’t step in and try to save him, Lamby couldn’t keep someone so selfless here. They could only be in one place at a time, letting Ratau go to help other people would mean more people were being saved.

“I’ll miss you.” Lamby whines. Even as they try to convince themself that things would be alright, they still cling to the old rat as if his life depended on it.

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.” Ratau sighs. “Tell you what, whenever we meet again, whether I come back here or you end up finding me, I’ll teach you a favorite game of mine. All of my friends play it and I’m sure you’ll love it!”

“I’ll look for you.” Lamby promises. “I’d love to play games with you and your friends. When are you gonna leave?”

“The earlier the better.” Ratau says, warming his hands by the fire. “I still remember the path Shrumy and I took from here and while I’m not as slow as the tortoise, I’m also not as spry as I was back then. It’ll take me at least a few days and with how nippy the air is getting, I don’t want to waste too much time. I was thinking that if I could get everything packed and ready, I could leave by noon today.”

“I’ll help…” Lamby says with reluctance. “But only if you promise to visit when it gets warm again.”

“Alright.” Ratau nods. “I promise.”

With that, Lamby got to work.

If they were going to send their friend away, they were going to give him everything he could possibly need. After they help cook breakfast for everyone as they wake, they prep some meals for Ratau using the finest ingredients they have. They dig around in their crown and produce a thick robe they found in one of the treasuries they raided so Ratau can stay warm on his journey back home. They sharpen his sword to a razor point, though they hope he’ll never have to use it on his travels.

Long before the sun gets a chance to hang in the center of the sky, they’ve helped Ratau make all the preparations he needed to head home. Lamby considered dragging their feet, they even considered sabotaging the old man to keep him here for an extra day or two, but just knowing he was leaving hurt enough. They didn’t want the pain to linger. They’d see him again. He promised.

“Thank you, Lamby.” Ratau smiles as Lamby brings him his bag. “Don’t you worry your little head about me. I know the safe paths the traders take and while I’m out of practice, I trained under Aym just like you. I can’t wait to get back home, fire up the stove, and make myself a nice hot drink before collapsing into bed. After months of sleeping on padded leaves and makeshift bedrolls, sleeping on an actual mattress again is going to do wonders for my back.”

“I’ll make sure the beds are nicer when you come to visit.” Lamby tells him as they hand his bag over. “Are you sure you have to go?”

“I’m sure.” Ratau insists. “I’ve got to be ready for when my brother comes to visit again. Besides, you don’t need me lying around here anymore. I’m sure you’ll make this place ten times better than I ever could. As much as I don’t want to leave, I’m actually excited to see what this place will look like after some time away from it all. I’m even more curious to see how you’ll turn out in that time. You’ve already grown quite a bit since I first met you.”

With a tired sigh, he shoulders his bag and looks off into the woods. Lamby silently pleads with him to reconsider, praying that he’ll change his mind and stay here. Ratau himself seems to be struggling too, looking back at the village with a weary look on his face.

Giving Lamby a wide smile, Ratau bows his head. “I’ll see you again soon, Lamby. I’d pray for your good health, but I know the lord will keep you safe. Farewell.”

Lamby gives him a wave, not trusting themself to say anything back without breaking. They stand at the edge of the woods, watching as Ratau disappears into the forest. It wouldn’t be goodbye forever, he promised, but even then, they pray for his safety. They stand there at the edge of the clearing for what felt like an hour before they finally start to move again. There was still work to be done around the village, a sermon to hold, and preparations to make for the next crusade. Ratau used to help with all of these things, but they would have to do it alone now like they always have.

“Lord Lamby, is everything alright?” They’re suddenly stopped by Valafar who bows his head in greeting before giving them a worried look. “You seem upset.”

“Oh?” Someone else overhears him and steps in. “Is something wrong, leader?”

Seeing how quick they are to check on them, Lamby breaks into a smile. They suppose they aren’t actually alone, they have a whole flock who cherishes them. They’ll be ok. Saying goodbye hurts, but they’ll see the old man again. They’ll make sure of it.

Sleep never came easily for Lamby these days which was both a blessing and a curse. Growing up, they were terrified to fall asleep, never sure if they’d be safe through the night or if they’d be able to wake up again in the morning. Restful nights of sleep were few and far between. They had a few good naps in the barn they were hiding in, but it was during one of those naps that they were dragged out to be executed. The crown insured that they would never have to let their guard down ever again, but they didn’t need to keep it up at all times anymore. They were finally safe and had a bed all to themself, but now they had no real use for it.

Their chores were done for the day, everyone else was asleep and there was no one to talk to. Slipping into their tent and settling into bed, they close their eyes and hold their breath, feeling their body go still and cold as they will themself to visit the afterlife. Without Ratau here, there was only one place left to go for guidance.

Opening their eyes again, they’re met with the heavy, cool fog of the afterlife. Rising to their feet, they hurry through the fog, already very familiar with the path to reach their lord. It isn’t long before they kneel before him and the twin disciples. Before they’re able to explain why they’re here or to ask to be taught by the brothers, The One Who Waits speaks to them.

“The old man has left your flock.” He observes. Lamby was hoping that they could distract themself from how they felt about him leaving by coming here, but The One Who Waits was always so observant and curious about how they felt about things.

“Ratau says that he’s taught me everything and that he was needed elsewhere.” Lamby says with a sigh. “He says we’ll see each other again, but I already miss him. I wish he stayed.”

“He made the right choice.” The One Who Waits says. “He is of little use to you now. One less mouth to feed, one less body to shelter. He will not burden you any longer.”

“Burden?” Lamby perks up. “He wasn’t a burden. We have plenty of food and space. He’s my friend, I liked having him around.” One thing that Lamby has taken note of with the lord is that while he clearly cared for them, he could be really mean sometimes. They suppose it makes sense, they’d be pretty grumpy if they were stuck in one place for years.

The One Who Waits lets out a low hum. “He has taught you much, but you still have plenty to learn, lessons that not even he could grasp.” He says, a strange smile forming on his face. “Perhaps he will still be of use to you after all. You will meet with him again, but for now, I wish to begin your real teachings.”

“Are they gonna be hard?” Lamby asks. “My current lessons are already tough.”

“Perhaps.” The lord tilts his head. “Ratau struggled, though you have already proven to be a much more capable vessel than he. I trust you will excel where he floundered.”

Lamby can’t help but smile at that. Before they were crowned, they struggled to do much of anything. All they ever strived for was the bare minimum to survive, but both the lord and Ratau pushed them to improve themself every step of the way, praising them for every accomplishment. Seeing their smile, the lord smiles back, flashing his sharp white teeth.

“What do you want me to do?” Lamby asks, eager to prove to the lord that they could handle whatever was thrown at them.

“Tell me lamb, how do the cultists that worship the traitors show their true devotion to their lords?” The One Who Waits asks them. “What do they offer in exchange for protection and blessings?”

“They…” Lamby takes a moment to think. They’ve raided a couple of treasuries already which were jam packed with food, luxuries, gold. They’ve stolen so many offerings, but there’s one thing they’ve found time and time again. It’s how they get most of their followers. “They make sacrifices!”

The god’s smile widens. “Very good.” He says and Lamby widens their own smile to match the lord’s. “Do you know why they sacrifice their flesh?” Lamby opens their mouth to answer, but nothing comes up. They never really questioned why the cultists tried to sacrifice people, all they ever cared about was rescuing the person on the altar to bring them home. “It is done to feed the gods and their crowns.” The lord explains.

“Like how I get stronger through devotion?” Lamby asks.

“Exactly.” The god nods, making Lamby beam with pride for getting it right. “The other crown bearers grow fat off the devotion of the countless hordes that worship them, a far cry from the pitiful number you now preside over. There are other means of feeding the crown and empowering yourself, however. You have unknowingly been starving out Leshy by stealing the sacrifices he was meant to feast on. If you wish to grow strong enough to face him in battle…”

“You will have to make sacrifices of your own.”

The weight of the lord’s words settle over Lamby. They’ve become so strong over the course of a few months, battling countless hordes of zealots, monsters and demons, but they were still nothing compared to the power of the gods.

“I…” Lamby tugs at the collar around their neck. “I don’t have to actually eat someone, do I?”

“No.” A bemused chuckle escapes from the god’s throat. It’s a pleasant sound. “The crown will feed on your chosen sacrifice, far away from your eyes if you wish to spare yourself the sight. In return, the crown will grant you more power than you can imagine, far more than what your shrine has ever generated.”

Lamby stares up at the lord in awe. “But I’m so strong now.” They try to reason. “You’re saying that-”

“One sacrificed soul will grant you more strength than even a whole year of dedicated worship could earn you.” The lord tells them, leaning in close and rattling his chains. “The feeling you get when you harvest fresh devotion is nothing in comparison to the high offered to you from a sacrifice. The power that will course through your veins will be enough to make the heretics who stand in your way fear your very aura. The bishops who mock and torment you will finally feel fear when they see you approach. Don’t you wish to frighten the traitors? Don’t you want to make them run and hide for everything they’ve done to you? To me? To your mother?”

Lamby’s throat goes dry.

All their life, they have lived in fear. They feared the dark and the secrets that it hid from them. They feared other people and the motives they couldn’t read. They feared hunger and thirst as it drove them to take more risks to sate it. They feared the bishops, the Old Faith, the monsters who took their mother away and left them all alone. Fear was all they had ever known until they stood here before The One Who Waits, before they met Ratau, before they had a home they could feel safe in.

They were happy with the friends they had, they were happy they could sleep in their warm bed without worrying that something would hurt them in their sleep. As happy as they were, the rest of the world still lived in fear of the Old Faith. There were no more kids like them who were scared all their lives. All of those kids are dead thanks to the bishops, the traitors.

They deserve to feel the same fear.

Lamby’s mother was murdered and taken from them out of fear of a prophecy. The Old Faith exterminated their entire race because they were scared of facing the consequences of their terrible betrayal. The One Who Waits already showered Lamby in praise for saving the lives that the Old Faith tried to end, for creating a safe haven for their flock, for avenging him for the traitors’ terrible crimes.

Lamby wanted to scare the bishops.

“How do I do it?” Lamby asks the lord. “What do I need to do to match the traitors’ strength?”

Lamby has never seen The One Who Waits smile so brightly.

Chapter Text

It was strange how a few months back in that old clearing made coming back home a strangely nostalgic experience for Ratau. He still knew all of his old routines, but he had to fall back into the habit of actually going through with them. It was like he had just moved in again, though of course the house was already fully built this time. Living out here could already get crushingly lonely during the long stretches of time without visitors, but after spending so much time with other people, his isolation out here was harder to endure than it used to be.

The garden was overgrown with weeds by the time he came back, but there was still enough left behind to get him a good way through the winter, especially with the preservatives Shrumy left him on his last visit. With plenty of firewood and a nice iron stove keeping the place warm, he had an incredibly cozy winter back home. He received no visitors during the time, most traders hunkered down during the winter instead of trying to brave the cold. He enjoyed the peace and quiet after all the commotion and work in the new village, but he deeply missed having someone to talk to.

Spring came and went just as quickly too, though it was just as lonely. Throughout the whole season, he only had one visitor. Flinky had slithered by as the snow was still melting to see how he was doing. All of the trading routes were apparently growing very dangerous as of late thanks to an increase in activity by the Old Faith. He stayed for a few days, played some games and did some trade, but he was quick to get back on the trail, worried that things would only get worse with time and desperate to sell off the last of his stock. He promised that he’d make his way back once he was done to wait out whatever was going on with drinks and good company.

It’s now a good way into summer, and Ratau rises early like he always does to fetch water from the stream. During his walk back with two buckets of water, he wonders when he should head back to the village.

He certainly wanted to check in on the kid and how they’ve been doing without him, but Flinky’s warnings had him cautious. There was no doubt in his mind that Lamby was responsible for the rise in aggression within the Old Faith, just as he was years ago. He wasn’t too worried about making it to the village in one piece, he knew how to take care of himself, but now he was worried about leaving his home abandoned if his friends arrive. If Flinky was looking for a place to hunker down, surely the others will be too. Maybe Ratoo will even take notice and come home to make sure his little brother is alright. He was torn over who he should prioritize.

As he returns home with his fresh water, he considers maybe leaving a note on the door to explain where he is to his friends, though he isn’t actually sure if his brother knows how to read. Maybe he’ll stay here until someone arrives and he’ll have them hold the fort while he takes his trip. He’s sure Flinky would like having this whole place all to himself.

That’s what he’ll do. He’ll wait until one of the traders arrives and tell them what’s been going on. After that, they can relay his story for him as he checks in on the kid. Though, with how long it’s been since he’s seen anyone and with how dangerous the roads are, what if no one comes around to see him? What if Flinky gets into trouble or he’s forced to hide away somewhere else?

Ratau puts some tea on the stove and tries his best to keep his anxiety in check. Someone will come around eventually. His friends have been risking their lives for years. A few riled up cultists aren’t going to keep them down. Maybe he’ll fold together some more origami crowns. Ratau’s grown quite fond of his and who knows, whenever the bishops are gone, maybe crowns will be fashionable when they’re no longer reserved only for the gods.

He sits himself down at his desk, grabbing some sheets of paper to begin folding, when there’s a knock on his door. Here he was worrying himself that his friends might not come visit only for them to arrive a few minutes later.

“I’m coming, give me a minute!” Taking hold of his stick, he pushes himself out of his seat and starts walking towards the door. “You came just in time, I just put on some tea. Unless you’re Klunko I guess, I know you hate the stuff.” Making it to the door, he opens it wide only to be left stunned and speechless by who he finds on the other side.

He almost doesn’t recognize them with how much they’ve grown in just under a year, but before he can really get a good look at them, arms are wrapped around him and horns dig into his ribs as the little lamb he was so worried about hugs him tight.

“Ratau!” They squeal, tears stinging in their eyes. “I found you! Oh I missed you so much!”

“Same here, kiddo!” Ratau hugs them back. This certainly takes care of a lot of problems. Maybe The One Below heard his pleas and sent the lamb his way to take care of them. “Good lord, you’re a whole three inches taller than when I last saw you. And those horns are growing in too, they kind of hurt.”

“Oh, my bad.” Lamby backs off, though they still wear the biggest smile Ratau’s ever seen. “This place looks wonderful, by the way. May I come in?”

“Of course.” Ratau nods, stepping back to allow them inside. They marvel at the interior of his humble little hut as he shuts the door behind them, looking over the table, the various drinks and preservatives in the corner, the iron stove where tea was close to finished boiling. “I’m sure your home is much nicer than mine.” Ratau chuckles as he moves to return to his seat.

“It’s beautiful.” Lamby insists. “It’s very cozy and warm. I would have loved to stay here during the winter. It could use some more decorations though.”

“I’m sure you’d pretty the place up in an hour if I let you run wild. It looks like you’ve already done the same for yourself.” Now that Ratau was seated and he wasn’t being smothered by the kid, he could see their height wasn’t the only thing different about them.

Their growing horns and wool were decorated with dozens of wildflowers and camellias and they wore several necklaces and wreaths as well. Rings sparkled on almost every finger and their wool was brushed and braided. Ratau would not have believed that a year ago this lamb was just barely surviving and hiding out in barns. They looked like royalty, befitting for someone wearing a crown.

“Well, I suppose now that you’re here, why don’t you take a seat.” Ratau offers, pointing to the chair across from him as leans back to take the kettle off the heat. “I promised that I’d teach you my favorite game the next time we met. It’s been a while so I’d love to hear how things have been going on your end while we play.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Lamby nods. “I’ve been very busy while you’ve been away. I have lots to say.”

Ratau doesn’t doubt it. Digging through his stuff, he blows dust off of his Knucklebones board and grabs his dice bag. Filling two cups with tea, he returns to the table to set the game board and dice down before offering Lamby their drink. They move to take a sip, but they’re distracted as Ratau empties the bag of dice and lets them scatter across the table.

“You ever play a game with dice, Lamby?” Ratau asks, quickly sorting the dice to make sure he and Lamby had nine dice each.

“No.” Lamby shakes their head, the bell on their collar jingling slightly. “I know some people play with cards, but the only cards I’ve ever touched are the ones with pictures that Clauneck gives me.”

“I can teach you to play card games too.” Ratau says. “If you ever swing by while the guys are here, you can join us for our games, though Klunko won’t play with you unless you put something on the line. He’s a complete madman, but he’s emptied all of our pockets at least once so it pays off for him… mostly.”

“I have plenty of money.” Lamby says. With how much jewelry and silver they were wearing, Ratau didn’t doubt it. “So how does this work? What do we do with these?”

Over the next few minutes, Ratau teaches Lamby the relatively simple rules of the game, just as his elder had taught him. Roll a die and put it in one of three columns. Two of a kind doubles the value, three triples them. If your opponent places a die of the same face opposite of your column, you remove the die of the same face from your side. Whoever has the most points when the board is filled up wins.

It would take Lamby a few games to understand the real depth and strategy of the game, so with the basics out of the way, Ratau rolls his first die, placing a four in his center column. “So how have things been going on your end, Lamby?” Ratau asks as he leans back in his chair and awaits Lamby’s turn.

“Things have been going great!” Lamby says, dropping their die on the table and landing a four. They place it in the center column with glee, forcing Ratau to remove his die. “The One Who Waits absolutely loves what I’ve done with the place. I know you’ll like it too.”

“I already loved what you did with the place before I left.” Ratau says, rolling his next die and landing a six which he places in the recently emptied middle column. “You brought the place up from nothing in a little over a season, I can’t imagine what’s changed after half a year.”

“So much.” Lamby says, rolling their die before trying to list everything off. They roll yet another four, placing it in the center column and doubling their score. “I’ve brought home so many talented people who are all helping me learn various trades. They’re teaching me how to carve wood, chisel stone. I even helped make a little smithy for someone to help turn all the gold I’m stealing into more decorations! The shrine in the center of the village is way bigger and sturdier now, I feel like I get a sugar high whenever I- oh! I found someone who knew how to bake and they told me where to get sugar! They’re teaching me how to bake and oh my gosh it’s so good! I ate so much cake I threw up! When you come to visit, you have to try it!”

“Sounds like things back home are going well then.” Ratau laughs, placing a three in his left column. “Can’t say things have been as exciting out here.”

“No?” Lamby asks, rolling their die and landing… another four. They place it in the center column, earning them 36 points. Ratau raises a brow.

“Is The One Who Waits blessing your rolls or something?” He asks. “Three fours in a row?!”

“Maybe I’m just good at the game.” Lamby suggests with an innocent smile. “I’m a fast learner.”

Rolling his next die, Ratau breaks into a mischievous grin of his own. “Well here’s your next lesson, Lamby.” Placing his die on the board, he sets a four on top of his six in the middle column, leaning forward to pluck all three dice off of Lamby’s side of the board. “You’re not the only one playing. You have to be mindful of my board too. I’m trying to double up, I’m trying to clear your board. You have to plan around my possible moves.”

“Hmm…” Lamby grumbles as they study his side of the board. They carefully take up a die and roll a five. After staring at the board intently for ten seconds, they place it in their left column. They’re getting the hang of it. “You said not much has happened out here?”

“No.” Ratau sighs, focusing more on the lamb than the game now. “I’m afraid I’ve only had one visitor since I came back, not counting you. You’ve been causing quite a ruckus out there and everyone’s a bit scared to hit the main trails with how many people there are looking for you.”

“Things should be calming down in the Darkwood soon.” Lamby assures him. “I don’t really go there anymore except to pick flowers and find food. All of the bad people should be following me into Anura by now.”

“Are you having trouble in the Darkwood?” Ratau asks. “Or are you avoiding it to help calm things down?”

“My work’s done there.” Lamby says nonchalantly, giving Ratau pause. They roll their die and take their turn and wait for Ratau to take his, but when they see him sitting stunned, they elaborate. “Leshy’s dead. There’s no reason to go to the Darkwood anymore.”

Ratau stares in complete disbelief at the little lamb in front of him. Surely they were pulling his leg, right? This was some sort of practical joke. Leshy, the bishop of chaos who destroyed his home, who killed the young lamb which started him on his righteous quest… He’s actually dead?!

“I faced him in his own temple.” Lamby tells him, sitting up straight as they recall the battle. “Every step of the way, he’s tried to make a fool out of me, laughing in my face for even daring to defy him. He wasn’t laughing when I stepped into his cathedral. He had dozens of cultists he was hiding behind, and when he saw how quickly I dispatched them, he had all of those who remained sacrifice their lives to feed his crown. He became even more monstrous than he already was, if you can believe it.”

“I always thought he looked like a big tree, so I treated him like one. With an axe in hand, I swung it into his body with all my might, hacking away at him until he could barely hold himself up without risking falling apart. I burned him, I poisoned him, I shocked him. He underestimated me, and once he realized that I was not the same little lamb he put on the chopping block, his taunts and jokes turned to cries for mercy. He ignored my cries. I ignored his. His temple is in ruin, the lord’s chains are cut, and the Red Crown feasted on the bishop’s heart. He of Chaos is no more.”

Ratau sits in stunned silence. He spent over a year trying to find the strength to rival the gods, it hasn’t even been one and the bishop of chaos was dead.

“How?” Ratau is beyond proud of the kid, but it still boggles his mind that little Lamby here somehow killed a god. “I did everything I could to try and stand up to that monster. What did you do to match his strength?”

“It took a lot…” Lamby sighs. “I’m not sure if I would be able to do it again. Can you take your turn please? We’re almost done.”

“O-oh.” Ratau looks down at his board. He was so taken aback to hear that the god Leshy was dead that he forgot he was in the middle of a game. He can hardly focus on it now though. He rolls a die and caps off his center column. There’s only a couple moves left in the game anyways. “What did you do to defeat Leshy?” Taking a sip from their tea, Lamby settles into their seat.

“The One Who Waits told me there was a lesson that you failed to learn.” Lamby says. “Strength cannot be gained without sacrifice.” Ratau feels his heart stutter in his chest. “I think I understand why you had so much trouble. It was really hard for me, but one of my flock offered themselves up. It was another rescue who was transformed by Leshy, Barbatos. His mutations were the worst I had ever seen and no amount of help seemed to ease his suffering. In the short time he was with us though, he had never felt more loved and hearing of the calm and painless afterlife that awaited all who worshiped The One Who Waits, he offered himself as a sacrifice to grant himself peace and to grant me his strength to ensure Leshy could not torment more poor souls like him. Even with all the other boons I had gathered, I would not have been able to slay the traitor without Barbatos’ sacrifice.”

Ratau lets out a low and shuddery sigh, putting a concerned look on Lamby’s face. “I could never bring myself to do it.” He explains. “I had grown up and spent most of my life with the people who made up my flock. I couldn’t imagine taking any of their lives. Just like you, someone offered himself up to me, but… I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

“Oh…” Lamby mumbles to themself. “I wish I could have helped Barbatos. He seemed so nice, but he never got a chance. I am forever grateful for his sacrifice and the lord promised me that he’s at peace now, but…”

There is a long stretch of silence between them. Ratau thought it was wrong, he thought that stooping to the traitors’ level and sacrificing others for power was hypocritical, but he can’t argue with the results. Maybe he was foolish for doubting his lord and questioning his wisdom, but it just doesn’t seem right, especially since he forced this kid to go through with it. Regardless of what he felt, Leshy is dead now, his cult of chaos now lacks its leader. The sacrifices will slow down, more lives will be spared, and the lord is one step closer to freedom.

Looking down at the board in front of him, Ratau rolls his last die and places it in the only remaining spot. After quickly counting up the die faces on both sides, he makes a declaration. “I win.”

“Huh?!” Lamby looks down at the board. It was a close match, but they lost by nine points. They cross their arms and pout in disappointment.

“If it makes you feel any better, It took me at least ten games before I managed to beat the man who taught me to play.” Ratau says, desperate to move on from this heavy topic of conversation. “You did better than my first game though, let’s try again.” Clearing the board and separating the dice, he rolls and makes his first turn in game two. “It sounds like there was a bit more going on than just the sacrifice that helped you triumph over Leshy.”

“I got lots of help!” Lamby nods, looking grateful to move on to brighter topics too. “I was away from home for several days on my crusade and during the long trip, I met up with Clauneck multiple times! I see him a lot on my missions, but never more than once. He thought it was funny, but since we had crossed paths again, he said I was allowed to draw another card, so I was double blessed for my mission.”

“That would certainly help.” Ratau nods. “Those cards pulled me out of a few tough scrapes. I wonder how many he’d let you get away with taking.”

“I also met with his brother Kudaai.” Lamby continues. “He always helps sharpen the crown into new weapons for me and he turned it into an axe, but when he gave it back, the crown looked almost sick. I was worried that he was too rough with it, but everything I hit with it got sick too. I don’t think I would have been able to beat Leshy with a regular axe. I could tell each hit was making him feel sicker.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen something like that before.” Ratau says. Kudaai was a rare sight on his crusades; he thinks he’s only ever met the smith a handful of times. The Red Crown was capable of invoking all sorts of terrible curses, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that the weapons it could transform into could spread pestilence.

“Chemach helped me out the most though.” Lamby moves on, though Ratau immediately holds up his hand to stop them. It takes him a couple of seconds to remember where he heard that name though.

“Chemach, their sister?” He asks. “The woman who crowned the gods?”

“You know her?” Lamby asks.

“No.” Ratau shakes his head. “I’ve heard of her from her brothers, but I’ve never met her myself.”

“Lucky.” Lamby grumbles. “She scares me. She was rambling on and on about her followers and her children and she gave me a really big tooth to keep. She was chained up too and had a crown on her head like The One Who Waits, but her crown really was sick, same with her. What did you say about her? She crowned the gods?”

“I see you still have quite a bit of reading to do, Lamby.” Ratau observes. “It’s all in the lord’s grimoire. Three great feathered beasts chosen by the old gods to build a new pantheon. Chemach crowned all of the gods and gave them their power, though what drove her mad and why she’s in chains I don’t know, nor why she would give you a tooth.”

“It was a really big tooth.” Lamby adds on. “It made my hands tingle when I held it. Later that day, I almost got struck by lightning even though it wasn’t even rainy. I think the tooth did it.”

Ratau scratches his head. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what that could be. Sounds useful though. Was that all, or were there any other boons you found?”

“Oh, there’s one last thing I have.” Pulling their various necklaces off, they set them down on the table until they’re able to free one that they’ve tucked underneath their fleece. Ratau’s heart goes still when he sees a very familiar looking talisman dangle from its chain. “This also helped me out a whole bunch. It-”

“Where did you get that?!” Ratau demands breathlessly, interrupting Lamby and startling them. He had almost completely forgotten about that bastard fox! If that murderer even dares touch Lamby, he’ll-

“A fisherman from Pilgrim’s Passage gave it to me.” Lamby says with some worry, holding the talisman close. “What’s wrong? Is it bad? Should I not have this?”

“A fisherman?” Ratau asks, taking a couple deep breaths to calm himself down.

“He taught me how to fish.” Lamby nods. “He said if I could catch some really big ones he’d give me a reward and he gave me this.” Ratau lets out a sigh of relief before deflating into his chair.

“Do you want to do me a favor and grab one of those bottles in the corner there?” Ratau asks, pointing towards the reserves he usually saved for when his gambling buddies came to visit. “I really need a drink.”

“Oh! Can I have some?” Lamby asks, quickly hopping out of their chair to fetch a bottle for him.

“I really don’t think letting you drink would be responsible of me, but…” Ratau sees the desperate look on the kid’s face. “You killed the bastard who ruined my life and avenged thousands who were killed by that traitor. What the hell, you deserve it.”

“Yay!” Lamby cheers, grabbing hold of one of the big bottles and bringing it over. Ratau quickly downs the rest of his tea to empty his cup before taking the bottle from Lamby’s hands. Popping the cork, he pours himself a shot before setting the bottle down and throwing it back. His face scrunches up as it burns down his throat, but it does the job of helping him clear his head and forget about that terrible demon.

It becomes even easier to forget about the fox when Lamby takes the bottle and tries to take a sip, just to immediately choke on their drink and cry out in disgust. Ratau barks out in laughter as Lamby quickly sets the bottle down, reaching for their cup of tea to try and wash it down.

“Yuck!” Lamby sputters, scraping at their tongue to try and get rid of the taste. “How can you drink that?!”

“Oh I can barely stand the stuff.” Ratau tells them, reeling back his laughter. “It gets easier to handle the more you get down you though. It makes parties a lot more lively.”

“I don’t want any.” Lamby quickly shakes their head, pushing the bottle back Ratau’s way. “It’s gross!”

“More for me!” Taking his cup, Ratau pours another shot for himself before pushing the bottle aside. “I really shouldn’t be drinking this early in the day, but hey, we’re celebrating.” Throwing the shot back, he can’t help but shudder as it goes down. “How about another game, huh? You don’t have anywhere to be, right?”

“I spent a couple of days searching for this place, but I can pop back whenever.” Lamby tells him. “Maybe you’d like to visit? I can bring you back just as fast!”

Ratau takes only a couple of seconds to make his decision. “I’ll take you up on that offer, but let's finish our game here.” Ratau insists, pointing at the board. “I just opened this up and you’re the first person I’ve played with in far too long. Give me a few more rounds and a few more drinks and I’ll be ready for the trip.”

“Ok!” Lamby nods, taking up their dice. “This is fun. You said you know more games like this?”

“Mmhm.” Ratau nods as he pours himself another drink. “If my friends ever come around to visit again, you’ll have to play with us. Games like these are always more fun with a party.”

Ratau’s head spun as he was pulled through the earth with the Red Crown’s magic. If it weren’t for Lamby’s hand in his to keep him steady when he landed, he’s sure he would have tumbled down the stone steps right into the village. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this particular magic spell without having the crown on his own head. Once he’s settled though, Lamby leads him down the stairs to the village and Ratau is already blown away by how much the place has changed since he left.

The ramshackle village of quickly erected tents and homes looked like paradise now.

Everywhere he looked, there were colorful patches of wildflowers, so many that the air around him was constantly filled with their scent. Several new homes have been built and while they didn’t quite look structurally sound, every single one has been painted over with some walls having murals made over them. The pathway beneath Ratau’s feet used to just be packed dirt but it was now paved out with smooth cobblestone, Lamby’s hooves clicking against the stone with every step.

Ratau isn’t able to see much more before he and Lamby are swarmed by their flock.

“Our glorious leader has returned!”
“Praise the lamb!”
“Is this another indoctrinate?”
“No you fool, it’s Ratau!”
“It’s been far too long, Ratau!”
“Where have you been?”

“Settle down everyone!” Lamby pleads and the whole flock falls silent. “Yes, I have returned home with an old friend of ours. He has come for a brief visit before he returns to his own duties. Please be hospitable to him and ensure he has a great time. In fact, Caster! Can you bake us a cake in celebration? I would like to show my friend here the sweetest thing our community has to offer.”

“Of course, my lamb!” Somewhere near the back of the flock, a large grizzly bear bows her head before walking off to fulfill her leader’s request. Ratau was having a bit of trouble keeping count, but he swears the population of this place has doubled since he last visited.

“As for everyone else, could you keep Ratau company?” Lamby asks. “It took me a while to find him and I have things to put away and prepare for later tonight. I trust you will all entertain him while I work.”

“Of course, my Lamb.”
“Right away, my Lamb.”
“Whatever you wish.”

Several people bow, some people clasp their hands and pray. Lamby bows back to all of them with a smile before turning to do their chores, leaving Ratau with the crowd. A couple disperse to go about their business, but many stay by his side.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Ratau!” Bowing beside him, Ratau turns to find Valefar. He was looking much better these days compared to when he was first introduced to the village. His red fur was delicately brushed and had a luster to it which it didn’t have before. “Where have you been, old friend? It’s felt like a year since I last saw you.”

“Enjoying my retirement and spreading the gospel along with the traders who pass by.” Ratau explains, though as he does, he feels a sudden wave of nausea overtake him. “Do you know someplace I can sit down? I think the trip here is catching up to me.”

“We’re close to the shrine.” Valefar offers. “I’ll sit you down by the fire.”

Ratau mumbles out his thanks as he tries to keep himself from barfing up his guts. Maybe day drinking wasn’t the best move, especially knowing that he’d be brought here through a magical portal ripping him through space. He just needs to sit down for a moment and let the fresh air do its thing.

With Valefar’s help, he is guided to the fire pit in front of the shrine and sat down. Once he’s seated though, he finds himself nearly tumbling backwards as he cranes his neck up to stare up at the shrine in front of him.

The once barely held together effigy of the lamb was now a towering sculpture carved out of stone and adorned with gold and other precious trinkets. It towered over everything in the clearing, everything except for the temple it was facing which has also been heavily decorated with the stolen gold from Leshy’s treasuries. Several other people join him by the fire to pray at the shrine. Ratau counted eight knelt down in the dirt, bowing their heads to the massive stone lamb in front of them.

Maybe it was just the drink messing with him, but something about this place was upsetting him, though he can’t pin down what. He tries to turn to Valefar for advice only to find his head bowed down in prayer as well. Not wanting to interrupt, Ratau stands up to get a look around the place himself.

It was very nice, he could not deny that. Maybe it was a bit too cluttered looking and it was making it hard to focus, but he liked how colorful everything was. Lamby had a knack for designing things and while the various murals painted all over the walls clashed with a lot of its surroundings, Ratau found himself stopping by every single house to admire the work done on their walls. Finger paintings of the lamb leading everyone to safety, landscape drawings with tall trees and blooming flowers. He doubts any other village within the Darkwood was this bright and colorful.

Leaning against his walking stick to keep him steady as he tries to sober up, he continues to wander the clearing when he finds that an actual farm plot has been planted. Several members of the flock till the soil and plant fresh seeds while others are on their hands and knees weeding the crops that are already growing. One of them raises their heads to give Ratau a wave, but the others remain diligent in their work. In fact, Ratau thinks he spots someone glaring at the friendly farmer for stopping their work.

Returning the wave, Ratau continues to wander, stopping to speak with a few people who are doing chores and admiring the work done to the place. Ratau struggles to believe that he’s only been away from this place for a couple of seasons with how much has changed. What will this place look like in another year? What will it look like in a decade? It almost brings a tear to his eye knowing that the hundreds of poor souls suffering under the Old Faith will be able to live in peace in a place like this as word begins to spread of this paradise.

After nearly tripping himself over a rock, Ratau turns to head back to the shrine and sit down until he’s sobered up a little bit more when he hears someone call out his name from afar. He turns around, expecting to see an old friend running up to greet him, but no one comes to him. He hears the call again and tries to follow the man’s voice as he’s led to the edge of the clearing. Passing by another house and rounding the corner, Ratau nearly drops his walking stick out of shock.

“Ratau! It really is you!”

Ratau finds the very first recruit they brought into the village, Tana, locked in a pillory. He looks filthy and rotting fruits litter the ground in front of him where he’s being held captive. “Surely you can see reason, right?! Get me out of here!”

“Tana, what…” Ratau feels his guts start to churn again as shock and confusion mix with his already present nausea. “What the hell is this? What’s going on?”

“Lamby’s lost it!” Tana tells him, desperately trying to wriggle himself out of the stocks but they’re locked tight. “I always thought this New Faith nonsense was a bit much, but they’ve taken it too far! I tried to talk Amdusias out of it, but… Damn it, you have to get me out before I’m next!”

“Wait, wait. Amdusias?” Ratau was feeling sicker and sicker the more Tana talked. “What did Amdusias do? What happened?”

“He’s dead!” Tana barks. “Lamby killed him!”

Ratau’s head spins. He had to… Damn it, why did he have to drink so much before coming here?! He was mishearing something, or maybe Tana was confused. There had to be a good reason for why he’s in here, but even then, Ratau struggles to even imagine Lamby locking someone in a pillory. Why was this thing even here?! He feels sick, he feels like he’s going to-

“Ratau?” Ratau freezes. Approaching him with the tell tale sound of their belled collar, Lamby approaches him by the pillory. “Tana isn’t bothering you, is he? I told him he needed to behave himself if he wanted out.”

“Go to hell, you devil!” Tana growls, fighting against his restraints again to no avail. “You’re a monster! Let me go!”

“I’ll let this mishap go since you weren’t able to hear my instructions, but Ratau is our guest here.” Lamby tells him firmly. Looking over at them, Ratau doesn’t see any anger in the kid's face, just mild disappointment. “Please don’t upset my guest. I promise I will clean this place up some more if you behave. You only have three more days left in here until you learn your lesson. Take this time to understand the pain our lord is in every single day. When you are set free, you will feel only a fraction of the relief he will feel when his chains are unbound.” Taking Ratau’s hand, Lamby drags him away from the pillory. “Have you seen the inside of the temple yet, Ratau? You’re gonna love it!”

“Hey! Wait!” Tana cries out as Ratau is taken away from him. “Three more days?! You can’t leave me here for that long! Ratau! You have to get me out of here! Please!”

Ratau is left in a stunned silence as Lamby drags him along. He feels like he’s going to barf at any second and it takes every ounce of strength that he has to keep it in. He genuinely doesn’t know what the hell is going on anymore. Everything seems so nice here and Lamby was still all smiles and rainbows even after dragging him away from the prisoner they had locked up in the corner of the clearing. He needed to try and make sense of things, but he could hardly think.

“Are you feeling alright, Ratau?” Lamby slows down to give him a worried look. “You’re not feeling sick are you? I bet it’s that nasty drink you kept taking sips from. There’s a special medicine one of my followers knows how to make which might help!”

“Lamby…” Ratau stops himself so he can take a couple of deep breaths. “What was that back there? Why is Tana locked up like that? What did he do?!”

Lamby’s smile falters a little bit. They look down and kick at the dirt like a child who just got busted for stealing sweets, but what Ratau just witnessed was not an innocent bit of mischief. He waits for an explanation, praying that it’s a good one.

“Tana has been upsetting everyone here for a while now.” Lamby eventually says, looking very disappointed and distraught at the fact. “Ever since what happened to Barbatos, he’s been telling everyone here that this whole place was a scam, that I didn’t care about anyone here, that The One Who Waits was either a monster who didn’t deserve our worship or he didn’t exist at all. He interrupted one of my sermons and even knocked over the candles to try and burn the place down before grabbing Amdusias to try and run away with him. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, everyone wants him to go away, but he’s my friend. I keep him over there for his own safety, but people keep throwing things at him no matter how many times I tell them to stop. I’m hoping that by showing him that I still care, by showing him the same hardships our lord is trying to protect us from, that he’ll maybe calm down and understand what he’s doing is wrong.” Lamby looks up at Ratau with worry. “I don’t know what to do with him. Am I doing the right thing? I don’t want to throw him out in the woods to fend for himself. I want him to be safe and happy here.”

Seeing the genuine worry and hurt in Lamby’s eyes, Ratau pulls them into a one armed hug. “I’m not sure.” Ratau sighs. “I was never great at making hard decisions like this. Hell, I thought it was a good idea to drink before noon and even let you have a sip. I'm terrible at making good decisions. I don’t know if it’s right to keep him here, but…” Ratau remembers how quickly his neighbors wanted to throw out the little lamb his brother brought home with him. They were scared, defenseless, they wouldn’t have survived on their own. “I appreciate you looking out for him while everyone else tries to push him out.” Ratau tells Lamby. “Not many people are willing to stick their necks out for others.”

“I learned it from you.” Lamby says with a smile. “You still look sick. Do you need to sit down?”

“I’d like that very much, yes.” Ratau nods, his guts still churning. Even if he didn’t drink, the sudden whiplash of finding Tana like that in this otherwise perfect paradise would have sent his world spinning regardless. What’s going on here isn’t great, but he doesn’t know the full story. Everyone else is so happy here, he genuinely cannot imagine Lamby here doing something like that to someone out of malice, but as Lamby leads him to the temple, he finds himself asking a question he’s scared to receive an answer to. “Where’s Amdusias?” Ratau asks and Lamby stops in their tracks. “Tana said you killed him. Was he lying to get me to free him? Is he still alright?”

Once again, Lamby lowers their head in disappointment, but turns to Ratau to answer him honestly. “After seeing me venture off on my own countless times, Amdusias wanted to venture outside too as a missionary.” They tell Ratau. “It was why Tana tried to run away with him. I warned him of the dangers, especially for a convert like him who might be recognized by members of the Old Faith, but he was insistent. He would either return home a hero like me, receiving praise and blessings for his dangerous work… or he’d be granted peace in the lord’s kingdom. He’s with the lord now…”

“And Tana blames you for it.” Ratau deduces. Once more, as frustratingly difficult as this situation is, he can’t really find any fault in Lamby for their decisions. Maybe it wasn’t right to let one of their followers venture out alone, but how many times has he prayed that he could have the crown again, to continue the crusade and rescue his lord? No doubt there are other brave souls with their own motivations to help the community in more ways than prayer.

After a moment, an idea occurs to Ratau.

“Do you know where Amdusias is?” He asks Lamby. “Or… at least a part of him?”

“I went looking for him, but I wasn’t able to find much.” Lamby sighs, shaking their head. “All I found were scraps left behind by the beasts that must have killed him. He’s buried out behind the temple where I’ve marked his grave. Why do you ask?”

One of Lamby’s friends is convinced that they’re a murderer and a fraud. If time in the stocks or Lamby’s kindness isn’t enough, then maybe he needs proof of his lord’s existence. Maybe Tana needs to witness a miracle.

“You’ve still been gathering bones for rituals, right?” Ratau asks and Lamby nods. “Then get me something to help me sober up and leave plenty of bones in the temple for me while you dig Amdusias up. You’re going to perform a miracle tonight, The One Who Waits’ greatest achievement.”

“D-dig him up?!” Lamby gasps. “I don’t know if… No, I’ll trust you on this. You’re super smart, I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Let me get you a drink of water and I’ll get to work.”

Leading Ratau inside and setting him down in the newly built pews lining the walls, Lamby quickly returns with some water to help sober him up before depositing some bones in the corner and leaving to exhume the body in the back. Ratau thought he was just going to be coming over for a short visit, but this quick rendezvous has turned into more busy work. He’ll eventually get to enjoy his retirement, but he’s still got some use left in him after all.

Lamby was growing into a capable leader, but they still needed guidance every once in a while.

Flushing himself out with water and hoping he’s at least somewhat presentable for the ritual that’s about to take place, he gets to work laying out bones on the ritual circle already present in the center of the temple. He doesn’t have the grimoire on him to double check the bone placement, but he doesn’t need to. He was very familiar with this ritual and the first time he performed it on his brother is forever burned into his memory.

“This is really gross.” Quickly pushing through the door with an armful of soiled rags in their hand, Lamby hurries to the center of the ritual circle and drops what little remains of Amdusias onto it before brushing themself off. “What are we doing this for? What kind of ritual is this?”

“We’re going to bring your friend back.” Ratau tells them, finding that a fresh glass of water and some busy work has helped him regain his focus. “He may be a little rattled after being woken up so abruptly, but I can tell that you miss him. Tana obviously blames you for what happened to him, so if you can bring his friend back as well, maybe we can win him over too.”

Lamby stares up at Ratau in mute shock for a couple seconds. “I can bring him back?!”

“It’s a very costly and strenuous ritual to perform, but yes.” Ratau nods with a smile. “My brother died shortly after I was crowned, but it was with its power that I am blessed to still see him when he visits me up north.” Pure wonder sparkles in Lamby’s eyes. Reaching up and taking hold of their crown, they stare down at it seemingly in disbelief before looking back up at Ratau with a determined look.

“Let’s work a miracle then!”

Stepping out to the less traveled corners of their home, Lamby rounds the corner to find their troubled friend in the pillory. Despite the uncomfortable position he was locked in, he seems to have fallen asleep in the late evening. Lamby wishes they could have built up a safer place to keep him, but this pillory was the quickest thing they could erect on short notice.

Not to mention, The One Who Waits was the one who suggested locking the dissenter up for daring to question the New Faith.

The lord suggested some much more severe punishments, but the pillory was the furthest Lamby was willing to go. Despite all the terrible things Tana said about them, despite how much everyone else hated him, he was still their friend. They really hope what they’ve done tonight will cheer him up.

“Tana?” Lamby speaks up, trying to gently wake him. Tana’s eyes flutter open slowly as he’s pulled from sleep, but the moment his eyes land on them, he jerks in his restraints, his face twisting into a horrible scowl.

“Let me go you damned devil!” He hisses through clenched teeth, putting all his might into trying to break himself free to no avail. “For what reason do you bother me in the dead of night, you monster?! Are you finally going to kill me like you did to Amdusias? Are you going to throw me to the wolves under the guise of sending me out for missionary work? I will never cooperate! I won’t rest until everyone knows what kind of monster you are!”

“I’m sorry to wake you, but I’m not here to hurt you.” Lamby shakes their head, forcing a smile through all the hurtful things Tana spits at them. “Someone wants to see you.”

“Oh I get it…” Tana growls. “Don’t want to get your godly hands dirty with my blood so you’re sending the executioner to do… the…”

Tana’s voice dies down as two more people round the corner. Shivering in the cold but being held close by Ratau, Amdusias comes face to face with his old friend and Tana falls completely silent and still. The ritual was a complete success. Not only was Amdusias back in the realm of the living, the worst of their mutations have gone away, leaving only two little nubs where his horns used to be.

“No…” Tana tries to shake his head. “No no no, this is a trick! You told me he was dead! I saw his grave! This isn’t-”

“Tana, it’s me!” Amdusias steps forward, leaning over to take one of Tana’s hands. “I have truly been blessed! You-”

“No!” Tana squeezes his eyes shut. “This is an illusion! You can’t be real! I know you died!”

“He did.” Ratau speaks up behind Lamby and Amdusias. Tana opens his eyes to face him. Tana was extremely cagey around everyone in the community, but Lamby found him pleading with Ratau. He obviously looks up to the old man too. “What happened to Amdusias was unfortunate, but you underestimate the power of The One Who Waits and his vessels.”

“Amdusias,” Lamby turns to the recently resurrected, “do you want to tell Tana what happened?”

“I was ambushed during my mission.” Amdusias says with a shudder. “You were right, Tana, it was far too dangerous to leave on my own and I should have listened. It was terrible, I was swarmed within seconds and so scared, but just when it became too much to bear, it stopped. I saw him, Tana, I saw The One Who Waits! I saw the chains, the blood, all of it. He took my pain away, he laid me down with all my old friends. I was at peace, but our glorious leader brought me back. They said you were still in trouble, that you missed me. I promise, I won’t go again. I’ll stay here where it’s safe, with you.”

Tana is speechless. Lamby was worried that he might still reject all of this as fake, that he’d still be mad, but a lot of that tension breaks when tears spill free from Tana’s eyes.

“It really is you, isn’t it?” He says with a shuddery voice, his eyes locked with Amdusias’. “The boils, the scars… They’re all gone. You’re… You’re all better now.”

“They are?” Amdusias lets go of Tana to carefully touch the top of his head. He had only been resurrected a couple of hours ago, he must not have noticed. He was already delighted to be back, but seeing that his disfigurements have also vanished nearly brings tears to his eyes he’s so overjoyed. “Oh praise the lamb! They’ve healed me too!”

“I’m not the only one you should thank.” Lamby tells him, turning to face Ratau. “I wouldn’t have been able to perform such a miracle if I didn’t have a great teacher.”

“It’s all in the book if you ever bother to sit down and actually read it.” The old man jeers lightly. “This dog can’t learn new tricks, but I still have plenty to teach.”

“You’re not a dog, you're a rat, silly!” Lamby giggles before returning their attention to Tana. “Amdusias, our friend here has been very upset since your passing and he’s lashed out against the others. I cannot remove him from his bindings just yet, especially this late in the night. I must convince the others that he can be trusted again. In the meantime, I ask that you stay with your friend and keep him company until I can free him. And Tana. I know you question our faith, but all I ask is that you-”

“You brought Amdusias back.” Tana interrupts. “He has no reason to lie to me. If he’s here, if you cured him and brought him back, if he really did see the lord you speak of… I’m sorry, Lamby. Please forgive me for the damage I’ve done. I-”

“It’s alright, Tana.” Lamby tells him. “I met the lord face to face and even I questioned him at the start. All of this has been very scary and difficult for all of us, even me. I promise though, if we stick together through every hardship, we will set the lord free and rid the world of the Old Faith once and for all. First thing in the morning, I will tell everyone I plan on letting you go. I hope they are as quick to forgive you as I.”

“Thank you…” Tana says, tears still streaming down his face. “Thank you so much.”

Stepping away from the pillory and leaving Amdusias by the buck’s side, Lamby joins Ratau near the edge of the clearing. “Did I do a good job?” They ask him. They’ve missed his comforting presence by their side. The One Who Waits could command them from afar, but the old man always made them feel better with his infinite wisdom and kindness.

“Maybe…” Ratau sighs. “I’m not sure anymore. Like I said, these hard decisions were why I never made it as a leader. You’ve got a friend back and won over someone who hated your guts, you’re certainly doing better than I ever have. I don’t know if I can help you with stuff like this anymore. If you become too reliant on me…” Ratau lets out a slow sigh.

”At least everyone survived this ordeal… Unlike last time.”

Lamby did not mean to pry into Ratau’s mind, but their curiosity got the better of them. There was so much that Ratau had taught and shared with them, but there were many things from his past that he kept to himself. Lamby knows he made mistakes, he failed his mission and even The One Who Waits dismisses him, calling him a pitiful old man with little use. Everyone made mistakes though, Tana was a recent example. He felt hurt and betrayed by the deaths of his friends, for their inability to help Barbatos and willingness to let Amdusias march into danger. It all could have ended in disaster if Lamby didn’t try to help despite his misdeeds and if they didn’t have Ratau’s guidance to fall back on.

Ratau didn’t have anyone to help him back in the day. He was all on his own, just like them growing up.

Stepping forward, Lamby wraps Ratau up into a hug. “Thank you for your help.” They tell him. “Thank you for being there for me.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Ratau returns the hug before breaking out into a yawn. “If it isn’t too much of a bother, do you think you can bring me back home? You said you could get there just as quickly as you brought me here, right?”

“Yes.” Lamby nods. “I’m sorry your visit became so busy.”

“It’s alright, Lamby.” Ratau assures them as they start to walk him up towards the transportation stone at the other end of the village. “I’m honestly glad you found me so I could offer you help when you needed it. If you ever need my guidance, please come visit again. If you’re good from here on out, visit anyways. You play a mean game of Knucklebones and I still have plenty of other games to teach you.”

“I’d like that.” Lamby smiles. “Keeping that lonely old shack company is the least I can do for all the help you’ve given me.”

“I’m sure you would’ve managed on your own.” Ratau tells them. “You don’t need an old man like me to help you anymore, but thank you for letting me feel useful for a change.”

Climbing up the stairs, Ratau braces himself for another jump through space to arrive back home. Lamby thinks he’s being way too hard on himself, he’s never talked like this before. Maybe today’s events have unearthed some unpleasant memories for him. They want to ask, they want to pry into his mind to learn more, but more than that, they want him to have a good night. They don’t need to know.

With the old man in their arms, they let the stone take them home where they hope he sleeps soundly tonight until their next visit.

Chapter Text

“Devour them! She of Hunger says there’s no greater delicacy than lamb chops! Tear the heretic apart and feast!”

Lamby was backed into a corner. The winter cold stung at the already bleeding wounds littering their body and they found their strength quickly fading. Those loyal to Leshy were fearsome foes, reveling in the chaos their lord represented, but these people were completely mad. For as monstrous and vicious as Leshy’s cultists could be, no one had ever tried to take a bite out of them.

Heket was proving to be a much more vicious foe compared to her brother. All of the bishops have made it clear that the death of Leshy would not go unpunished, but Heket had made it her personal goal to make their life a living hell. Her followers were starved and ravenous, the monsters she created were far more twisted and violent than any that Leshy had created, and her wrath was not just directed at Lamby.

Everyone was excited for the big harvest that came in late autumn to fill out the food stocks for the winter, but before the farmers could pick everything, a blight overtook the entire farm, killing almost everything in the soil. Heket seemed to pride herself in the suffering she caused as people went hungry and unrest spread amongst the flock. She had demanded that Lamby bowed before her so that she might spare everyone from their hunger.

The One Who Waits would not allow it, and Lamby would never stoop so low as to bow to traitorous scum like her.

“Yes! Spill their blood! Get a taste for what victory will grant you!”

They were trying to stay strong in the face of their enemies, but they couldn’t keep up. The struggles back home made gathering devotion difficult and the zealots they fight are far stronger than anyone they’ve faced before. Leshy’s forces would scatter and flee when they revealed the power of the Red Crown, but no matter how many they cut down, these monsters continued to throw themselves at them, biting and clawing.

They try to shove everyone back, they try to deflect the countless blows being thrown their way, but they aren’t fast enough to stop every attack. One of the bloodthirsty cultists throws their whole body at them with no sense of self preservation and while Lamby’s able to raise their sword to slash them out of the air, they aren’t able to duck out of the way from the sword falling straight for their head.

Lamby feels sword steel slash across their throat. They try to gasp for breath and instead choke as blood fills their mouth. They continue trying to fight the mad zealots back, but each swing of their sword feels heavier than the last as strength literally bleeds out of them. There’s far too many left and not enough room to back away and stop the bleeding.

They had failed. They continue to fight even as their movements become sloppy and more blades carve into them. They fight to their very last breath before they drop dead, the last thing they hear being the cheers of their enemies before they close in to feast.

In the blink of an eye, they’re in the afterlife, lying in the damp bone dust surrounding them as they wait for their wounds to heal. This was yet another unfortunate setback, one that may leave their flock hungry as they’ve failed to bring back enough to feed everyone.

They were so upset… Everyone was depending on them, both their flock and their lord. They wanted to do better, to not fall to the traitors, but they still had so much work to do. Still lying on the ground, they watch as the lord’s disciples step through the fog to fetch them.

“Oh…” Baal winces when he sees the state they’re left in. “The traitors become more ruthless with each passing day, don’t they?”

“The lord said you fought till your dying breath.” Aym comments. “I commend you for your tenacity, but it was not enough. You must become stronger.”

“I know…” Lamby pouts, clearing their throat as it’s still sore from the sword that cut through it.

“The lord wishes to speak with you.” Baal tells them, stepping forward and offering his hand. “Shall we?”

Reaching up and taking his hand, Lamby is helped up by Baal before being led by him through the fog. Lamby’s grown to dislike these meetings with The One Who Waits as they no longer visit on their own time. They’re always thrown here after they fail. They can’t help but worry that every visit is a disappointment.

Despite their anxieties, they see no sign of anger or impatience on the lord’s face when he appears from the fog. Lamby kneels before him as they were instructed by Ball who takes his own place beside the lord.

“You are struggling.” The One Who Waits observes. “You have failed to return from a crusade alive all winter.”

“I’m trying my best.” Lamby sighs. “Haket’s cult is just too much for me to handle.”

“I do not fault you for failing to match her followers' strength.” The One Who Waits tells them. “My sister had the sharpest tongue out of all of us. Her sermons could turn even the most agnostic skeptic into a blindly loyal zealot. You have slain her brother and have proven yourself to be a threat. She will not rest until you are erased just as I was.” Lamby feels powerless as their lord all but confirms that they are too weak to do anything against Haket and her rabid followers. “There is still so much for you to do in order to rise in power and challenge her. So many occult sources to tap into.”

“Can you show me?” Lamby asks, eager to learn more and finally make some progress through Anura. If they’re struggling now, they shudder to imagine what it will be like in the other gods’ domains.

“You already know multiple means for acquiring more power.” The lord informs them. “Feeding your crown is the surest way of increasing your strength. You have an awful lot of mouths to feed, why not kill two birds with one stone and sacrifice those you cannot feed to ensure you are strong enough to feed those who remain?”

Lamby is hesitant to reply. Sacrifices would speed things along, Barbatos’ sacrifice gave them the strength they needed to kill Leshy, but it also caused many problems. Tana has since calmed down, but feeding more people to the crown might get him and other people riled up. Not to mention, there weren’t exactly many people jumping at the opportunity to offer themselves up.

“Why do you hesitate?” The One Who Waits suddenly asks, pulling Lamby from their thoughts. “Do you care for them more than you care for your lord?”

“No!” Lamby is quick to assure.

“Then find someone and feast.” The lord demands. “Do not forget, just as the traitors use their following to slaughter you time and time again, you must take advantage of your own following. They are not warriors, they cannot fight for you, so take from them what you can. They exist to serve you, not the other way around. Take what you need and give back to them just enough so that they remain loyal. There is no other way to achieve the paradise you preach to them about.”

“Hmm…” Lamby lets out a low grumble. They understood what the lord was trying to say, but they really didn’t like his wording. Everyone was their friend back home, they wanted what was best for everyone, but it was clear that they couldn’t continue the way they were going. Sacrifices needed to be made, they were trying to please everyone and do things their way and now people were starving.

“Are you questioning the lord’s wishes?” Aym asks when they remain silent for a bit too long.

“No.” Lamby is quick to shake their head. “I’m just thinking.” After a few moments, they look up at the lord. “Sacrifices alone aren’t going to be enough, right? I can’t just feed everyone to the crown without them getting upset and a few sacrifices aren’t going to be enough to match the countless souls Heket must eat every day.”

“You are correct.” The One Who Waits nods. “Though it is a necessary step you must take, pure strength alone will not be enough to match the traitor Heket. You must find other means of improving your ability.”

“Like my talismans?” Lamby suggests, reaching within their fleece to produce the two talismans they had on them. The first one they received from the fisherman after catching some really big sea creatures, but the other one…

They really didn’t like the other guy who gave them this gift…

“Simply carrying those with you is not enough.” The One Who Waits tuts. “Their true potential can only come out when sewn into protective clothing for their magic to come into effect. You have been slacking on your studies.”

“Sorry…” Lamby pouts bashfully.

“I will teach them before they depart.” Baal promises, earning a pleased hum out of his lord. Lamby would make the excuse that they’ve been busy and didn’t have time to read, but even Ratau insisted that the grimoire in their possession had all the information they could ever need.

“I grow tired of watching you throw yourself into battles you cannot win.” The One Who Waits tells them. “You must grow stronger before you try again. Search the lands for more sources of power, take advantage of your followers through sacrifice or through other means. Commune with the other powerful figures who cling to scraps of power below the noses of the Old Faith. If it leads to the traitors’ ruin, anything is permissible. Now go with my disciples. You still have much to learn and they have much to teach. Now begone.”

Rising from his side, Aym and Baal step forward and Lamby rises to leave with them. Before they leave, Lamby bows to The One Who Waits, thanking him for his guidance before turning their back on him. Together with the brothers, they wander out into the desert filled with broken chains until they are well out of earshot to ensure they do not disturb their lord’s peace.

“How many times have I told you to read the damn book.” Baal scolds now that he’s free to do so. “You ask so many questions and insist you want to learn more and yet you refuse to actually learn!”

“Brother, may I make a suggestion?” Aym asks with a mischievous smirk on his face. “Allow me to take the grimoire. If they refuse to read from it, I will bludgeon them with it. It is certainly heavy enough to deal damage.”

“The lord will not take kindly to his grimoire being used as a blunt weapon.” Baal shakes his head before holding his hands out to Lamby. “The grimoire, please.” Letting the crown float off their head, Lamby commands it to hover over Baal’s hands before depositing the book into his waiting grasp. They’ve learned so many tricks with the crown, but they’re sure there’s more to learn. “Now, will you train with my brother first, or do you wish to find out how to unlock the true potential of the lord’s holy talismans?”

“I don’t have too much trouble fighting anymore.” Lamby says. “I just need to get strong enough to actually handle everything that’s being thrown at me. Learning more secrets will help.”

“Very well.” Aym scoffs, sounding a bit disappointed. “I’ll expect a proper fight from you once you are ready.”

“Of course, Aym!” Lamby nods. “I’ll need to fight someone who’s actually strong in order to really test my skills.” That puts a smile on the cat’s face as he turns to leave Lamby to their studies. Sitting down with Baal on one of the many piles of bones scattered around the afterlife’s desert, Baal begins flipping through the pages when Lamby speaks up. “Do you know any other ways to get stronger other than sacrifices and these talismans?”

“Of course I do.” Baal tells them. “I actually read the book. You wouldn’t even be here if you read it yourself!”

“I know, I know.” Lamby grumbles. “Ratau tells me to read it all the time too.”

Baal looks like he’s going to scold them some more for their laziness, but they pause for a moment. “How is the little rat?” He asks, setting the book down to look at Lamby. “Is he still well?”

“Yeah!” Lamby nods. “He doesn’t like the chaos and the noise of the village and he hangs out in his shack all day. One of his friends has come up to visit so I feel a bit better about leaving him up there while I work, but I still make time to visit him when I can. He’s been teaching me all of these fun games and I’ve been trying to teach my flock them too. Did he ever play games with you?”

“No.” Baal shakes his head. “His visits here were for study and training, we had no time for fooling around. Though, I suppose that didn’t stop him from trying. He asked lots of questions like you do and I found myself doing the same.”

“What did you talk about?” Lamby asks, only for Baal to shake his head.

“No. I will not be distracted again.” He insists, flipping through the pages of the grimoire again. “You will remain silent and listen carefully as I-”

“Come on, it has to be boring staying down here all the time. There’s nothing to do here.” Lamby insists. “I think you’d really like Knucklebones if you sat down to learn. Ratau and all his friends love that game. I’ve been making my own dice to play with too, we can have a game right now!”

Before Baal can protest, Lamby cups their hands and the crown floats off their head to position itself above them before shaking out a little under two dozen dice. They don’t have any good flat surface to play on, but they kick around in the bone meal to make a little divot for the dice to go into.

“I told the lord I would teach you the secrets to slay the traitors, not this.” Baal insists, but Lamby pays him no mind as they separate out the dice.

“Ratau says that this game is good for building up strategy and teaching numbers.” Lamby says in order to try and win him over. “He says playing it makes me smarter. That’s what you want, right? To teach me strategy to outsmart my enemies?”

“I know what you’re doing.” Baal says, glaring down at them. “The lord won’t take kindly to you using your silver tongue to go against his wishes. Are you really going to shirk your studies again?”

“None of that sounded like a no.” Lamby points out with a smile. Baal remains seated, glaring at Lamby for several seconds before closing the grimoire and setting it aside.

“The moment I say we’re done, we’re done, understand?” Baal grumbles as he kneels before the little divot Lamby dug out. “When we’re done, you will shut up and listen to me. No more questions, no more distractions, nothing.”

“I understand.” Lamby nods. “Now here’s how you play.”

As they went over the instructions as best as they could remember them, Baal continued to grumble and make a show out of being disappointed. Lamby didn’t need the crown’s help to know that it was just a show though. They’ve been getting really good at getting what they wanted out of people, whether it was making Tana calm down and rejoin the community or getting out of reading the big dumb book with Baal.

They suppose they’ve already learned how to take advantage of their flock, though getting sweets out of them and convincing them to work harder than they should isn’t enough to end this crusade. More sacrifices needed to be made. If they can sway even the disciples of death, they should be able to work something out to keep the peace after feeding the crown some more.

For now, they’ll test their negotiation abilities here. There’s no way Baal will be able to settle with just one game, especially if he loses.

The cold winter air bit at what little exposed skin Lamby had as they hugged their new fleece tighter to their body. Their thick wool helped insulate them, but the wind seemed to cut through everything no matter how many layers they tried on. Stopping by one of the campfires in the small clearing, they try to warm up before their meeting with a very strange man.

Aside from the bloodthirsty cannibals, ravenous monsters, and the mindless zealots throwing their lives away at Heket’s order, Lamby has also met plenty of strange people wandering the forest too. There was a strange old cat who seemed to get around everywhere just like the great birds who looked incredibly familiar, though Lamby couldn’t place why. There was Helob, another cannibal they met out in Anura who was strangely reasonable. He certainly made it easy to fill out their ranks with new followers, just last night they crossed paths and Lamby bought a poor squirrel woman who would have been eaten without their intervention.

On their travels they also met a couple of Ratau’s friends. There was a really old snake named Flinky who immediately recognized the crown on their head and knew they were friends with Ratau. He’s been hunkered down at Ratau’s house to keep him company as Lamby’s crusades continue to cause chaos throughout the lands. Even stranger though was a mysterious shaman they had met while exploring Anura. They never got his name, not even he seemed to fully grasp what was going on at the moment as he mourned the loss of his heart, but he looked far too familiar to be anyone else but the older brother Ratau spoke of so often.

Lamby has kept this meeting a secret. The old man looked to be in such a bad state physically and mentally that they didn’t want to break the bad news to Ratau. Lamby was still looking out for themselves and looking for any source of power they could, but they’ll keep an eye out for the old man’s heart too.

Having warmed up by the fire, Lamby rises and marches through the small village they find themselves in and ventures towards the large fungus infested skull that dominates the landscape. Out of everyone they’ve met so far, the man they’re about to meet was easily the strangest.

“Oh yes! You have returned with mushrooms for Sozo, yeah?” The exact second the strange ant catches sight of Lamby, he leaps to his feet and approaches them with a wild look in his eyes. “Give them to Sozo!”

“Yes, yes. I have your mushrooms.” Lamby nods, holding a hand out so that Sozo will keep his distance as Lamby fetches his prize.

This man and the small cult he seems to have built up around the mushrooms that grow around this place gives Lamby the creeps, but the rewards were more than worth it. Sozo had lots of valuable trinkets he was willing to part with, but more importantly, he has offered his undying loyalty to The One Who Waits in exchange for a few rare mushrooms that grew out in Anura. Spreading the influence of The One Who Waits was more than worth dealing with this strange addict.

“Here you are.” Lamby announces, proudly holding out an armful of the rare mushrooms. “I hope these are enough. The weather has been making these hard to find.”

“Yes yes YES!” Sozo exclaims, snatching up everything in Lamby’s grasp. “Excellent! You are Sozo’s greatest friend! Most trusted friend! No one gives Sozo as many mushrooms as you! Sozo gives you gifts and secrets for your generosity!”

“Secrets?” Lamby asks as Sozo quickly scurries back to his camp towards the pot boiling over a fire. “I’m perfectly happy with the talisman, I don’t need anything else.”

“Nonsense! NONSENSE!” Sozo blurts out, causing Lamby to freeze mid stride as they try to follow after him. “Sozo show you magic of mushrooms! Help control your cult.”

Lamby isn’t sure if they need any help managing their flock, but they weren’t going to tell Sozo no. It was better to just play along with whatever nonsense Sozo wanted to show them until they got the talisman. Lamby watches as Sozo dumps the armload of mushrooms into the large boiling pot. Stirring it around, Sozo leans back and bellows out to everyone who might hear him from the village.

“Sozo has menticide mushrooms! Enough to share! Come get it!” Immediately after shouting this, Sozo turns to Lamby and shushes them, falling completely silent himself. Lamby sits in stunned silence as a few of the strange mushroom obsessed cultists wander into Sozo’s campsite, paying Lamby no mind as they all gather around the pot. Sozo always seemed strangely weary of his own people, but gathering up bowls, he happily fills them up and hands off the mushrooms he was so fond of to the strange little men.

The little mushroom men devour everything they are given in seconds. After a few moments, they all start to stumble around, their eyes growing wider and wider as they start to lose themselves to the mushroom's effects.

“Sozo can’t trust them, but Sozo can trust mushrooms!” Sozo speaks up once everyone’s dizzy. “They never betray Sozo like this. They’re always happy. Look!” Reeling back an empty bowl, Sozo chucks it at the nearest mushroomo, pelting them in the head with the wooden piece of tableware. The little guy either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, stumbling towards Sozo and muttering out a slurred thank you as well as a plea for more mushrooms.

“Are they alright?” Lamby asks with some concern.

“Of course! Everyone loves mushrooms!” Sozo assures them. “Sozo gets upset when there’s not enough, but you have blessed Sozo with many! Take some home, give mushrooms to your flock, let it consume their brains! I- I mean… Let them enjoy the magic of this blessed fungi. Also, Sozo gives you this as thanks.”

Reaching into his bag, Sozo produces another glittering talisman for Lamby to take. As strange as this whole ordeal was, Lamby supposes this was an interesting secret to learn. More sacrifices needed to be made but they were incredibly worried about people dissenting like Tana did. If everyone’s all giggly on mushrooms, maybe they won’t even notice someone disappeared. They don’t know if that will be necessary, but it’s something to keep in the back of their mind.

“Thank you, Sozo.” Lamby says, taking the talisman from him. “Enjoy your mushrooms responsibly please. Don’t get too carried away.”

“Huh?” In the short time Lamby took to put the talisman into their crown, Sozo had dunked a bowl into their mushroom soup to take a sip. “Sozo didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lamby sighs. “Thank you so much for your help. The One Who Waits will ensure you rest peacefully when your time comes. Farewell.”

Quickly leaving Sozo’s camp as more of his fungi cultists stumble around in a craze, Lamby flees back towards the fire near the center of the village to warm up again before heading back home. Once they’re by the heat of the fire, they kneel down to admire the new talisman they’ve acquired. They’ve found a few of these over the past few months and now that they know how to properly take advantage of their power, Lamby can’t wait to get this back home and make another fashionable accessory to empower themself. Maybe they’ll make a scarf to match Ratau’s, though that would cover up all their pretty necklaces and their bell. Maybe…

Looking up from the fire, Lamby is startled to find nothing but complete darkness just outside the light’s reach. They look around, the village was completely empty as everyone left to eat Sozo’s mushroom soup, leaving them all alone by the edge of the woods.

Lamby takes a deep breath and forces themself to sit still. They weren’t going to let this guy scare them. They were the one to be feared here.

Just beyond the firelight, Lamby sees two eyes appear in the dark, followed by a mile wide smile full of razor sharp teeth. “Still not afraid of the dark, are you?”

“Not since I was a little kid.” Lamby states, hoping they aren’t showing any signs of fear. “Now people are scared of me.” Their comment only earns a cackle out of the darkness, one that Lamby didn’t appreciate. They scowl into the dark, waiting for the monster to show himself but the beast remains in the shadows. “Do you have more talismans to trade? Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes.” The teeth in the dark hums pleasantly. “I smelled a broiling soup nearby, but I can’t eat anyone here. The mushrooms will ruin their flavor. Here I am with an appetite, and yet I have nothing to eat.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer.” Lamby says. “This late into winter, there’s barely any food to go around.”

“There’s plenty of good meat running around.” The monster snickers. “I’ve seen countless harsh winters where those who are truly desperate begin to feast on their own. Once you learn how delicious your fellow man is, you’ll never allow yourself to starve again knowing your next meal is right next door.”

“I think it’s gross!” Lamby pouts. “Heket’s mindless cult has been driven mad with their bloodlust. I can see the same madness in your eyes too, monster.”

“And yet I will sleep with a full belly tonight while your followers starve, trying to ration what little they have between themselves.” The teeth in the dark tuts. “I understand if you do not wish to partake yourself, but please, allow me to alleviate your burden. We’re friends, after all.”

Lamby wouldn't go so far as to say they were friends, but seeing the glittering red gemstone of another talisman glisten in the firelight, Lamby couldn’t ignore the offer. “How so?” They ask.

“Surely a crown bearer such as yourself feeds on sacrifices.” The teeth in the dark inch closer, a bloodstained snout just barely coming into the light. “Could I offer this in exchange for one delicious mortal soul? You must have at least one to spare, right?”

Lamby stares at the dangling talisman, mulling over the offer. They needed to make more sacrifices, that much was obvious. The One Who Waits was demanding that they thin the herd to ensure those who remain survive the winter, but they weren’t sure how to do that without causing more problems. The mushrooms might be one easy method, but the more they thought of the fox’s offer, they realized they actually had a perfect trade on their hands.

“There’s a woman who just arrived at my village yesterday.” Lamby tells the monster. “A squirrel whom I haven’t even learned the name of. I rescued her on impulse despite having too many hungry mouths to feed. I don’t think anyone will notice if she’s gone.”

Lamby’s never seen the monster smile so wide. “Bring her here.” He demands, licking his lips in anticipation.

Standing up from the fire, some deep seeded voice in Lamby’s head tries to dissuade them from this. Was this the right choice? Was what they were doing wrong?

In the end, they decide to go forward with it. Their flock was depending on them. The One Who Waits was depending on them. Ratau was depending on them. And besides, they lived in a cruel, terrible world ruled over by monstrous gods. They won’t be able to win this war without getting their hands dirty.

Rubbing their hands together, they feel power radiate through their body as the Red Crown takes control. Prying their hands apart, the earth in front of them ruptures and a blinding flash of red manifests as they call upon their follower. The might of the Red Crown is too much for the fire to withstand and it’s blown out in the process leaving everyone in the dark and cold. Lamby cannot see where their newest follower is, but they can hear them.

“Wh-wha?” She mumbles sleepily. They must have woken her from her slumber. “Why is it so dark? Is anyone there? Please, it’s col-”

Her pleading is cut short with a horrible crunch as teeth sink into bone. Lamby doesn’t hear a repressed squeak or cry of pain. The smell of blood fills the air as Lamby stands motionless in the cold and the dark, forced to listen as the fox tears into his meal. It disgusts them, it makes them feel gross and monstrous,

but sacrifices needed to be made.

A warm, wet hand reaches out and grabs hold of theirs before depositing a holy talisman into their palm. “A pleasure doing business with you, friend.” The fox whispers into their ear, the smell of gore and viscera on their breath. “Until next time.”

The darkness dissipates and Lamby finds the light of the moon is bright enough to illuminate the clearing. There’s barely even a stain where the squirrel girl landed. If Lamby didn’t have her blood on their hands, they wouldn’t have even known something terrible had happened here.

They’ll make up for this. They won’t let the girl’s sacrifice be in vain. They’ll use the power she granted them to get one step closer to the paradise The One Who Waits promised them. They wish there was a better way, but even their benevolent god says that blood must be spilled to bring about peace.

They need just a little more. Just a few more tough decisions to make before this is all over.

Stepping down the long echoing corridor of the cathedral, Lamby steels themself for a tough fight. Adrenaline flows through their veins and their wool is already stained red from the countless zealots they had to fight through to get this far. The winter was harsh, but on this lovely spring day…

A god was going to be slain.

They stop themself, brushing off their lovely purple fleece and running their fingers through their braided wool to untangle it. The traitors did not deserve respect, but Baal didn’t hammer in all of those etiquette lessons for nothing. Lamby imagines it will infuriate She of Hunger to see them so polite and put together, knowing that they killed her brother and were here to kill her.

The last thing she’ll see is the smile everyone loved so much.

Confident that they’re presentable enough, they march forward into the main hall of Heket’s cathedral.

Stepping through the large archway leading into the atrium in the center of the cathedral, Lamby comes face to face with the goddess. Two dozen cultists surround her, sacrificial blades in hand as they position themselves around the ritual circles painted on the cathedral floor. None of them make a move for Lamby, they know they’ll lose. They stand at the ready, waiting for their goddess’ order.

Lamby stops at the archway, bowing their head slightly in greeting, still wearing a big smile. “Hello, Heket.” They say, looking up at her to meet her eyes. “It is a pleasure to finally-”

“Silence!” Heket shouts at them for even daring to speak in her presence, straining her voice in the process. “Wretched, vile, disgusting beast! Do you even know what you’re doing? Do you even know whom you serve?”

“I serve The One Who Waits.” Lamby says, undeterred by her rumbling voice and insults. “I am here to put the traitors who bound him in chains to the blade, to end the Old Faith once and for all and bring in an era of peace under a New Faith.”

“You don’t even know what he’s done…” Heket grumbles. “You’ve slaughtered my brother over the lies that monster has fed you.”

“He has never lied to me.” Lamby says. “Your words may sway your mad followers, but I cannot be fooled. I have seen the chains you bound him in. I have seen how much it hurt to have his own kin betray him. I have seen the atrocities your cults perform in your name. Your words won’t save you, Heket. My lord tried to silence you long ago, I will finish his work.”

Heket is left in stunned silence, though she did not need words to convey how much she despised them. The sheer hatred in her eyes, the malicious power radiating off of her. She wanted them dead.

“I am going to enjoy this…” She finally speaks, her voice coming out rough and hoarse. “I’m going to… crush you... Rip you apart! Devour your bones! His unholy curse upon you will be your undoing as I kill you over and over and over! I hope that bastard watches me tear his only salvation to shreds!”

“I assure you, he is watching.” Lamby tells her with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the smile on his face when I return to him with your heart.”

Looking absolutely livid, Heket raises her hands and her followers match the motion, raising their blades. A second later, all of those blades fall, stabbing into the chests of their wielders. Lamby takes a step back as their bodies nourish the crown on Heket’s head, filling her with more power than her body seems to be able to handle. She collapses onto the ground, her eyes wide open and bloodshot as her body begins to transform.

Lamby simply cracks their fingers in preparation. Heket would surely be a more formidable foe compared to Leshy, but they were a far cry from the little lamb they used to be a year ago.

They were the avatar of death, The One Who Waits’ reaper and chosen liberator. Even if they fall today, they will rise again to challenge the traitor. While she licks at her wounds, they will simply get back up and return to finish the job. For too long, these immortal gods have ruled without consequence, but tonight Heket will learn…

Death comes for all, no matter how much they fight it.

With a deafening roar, Heket screams in rage and pain, her transformation nearly complete. She has tripled in size and her face has nearly split open completely as her mouth becomes a massive maw of razor sharp teeth. In response to her rage, Lamby gives her another bow, a sign of respect they always show Aym before their duels.

Just as they hoped, Heket is furious and lashes out at them immediately, opening up her gaping maw and firing her tongue out at them. Quickly throwing themself to the side, they avoid the tongue as it crashes into the stone floor where they stood only a moment ago, reducing the intricate tiles to rubble with the impact. Before she could retract her tongue, the crown on Lamby’s head falls to their hands as they reach out for it.

Heket cries out as claws sink into her tongue. Lamby looks up at her with malicious intent, holding her in place with their enhanced strength. Leshy had underestimated them too and Heket will pay for making the same mistake. Pulling with all their might, the crown’s clawed gauntlets dig into her tongue, tearing through it effortlessly. It manages to slip out of their grasp as Heket quickly retracts it, but the damage has been done. She spits out blood as her mangled tongue struggles to stay in her mouth.

Lamby steps forward, cracking their knuckles once more, eager to tear this monster apart to get to the hideous heart hiding within her.

“Are you ssssure you do not need help fetching water?” Flinky asks as Ratau returns from his early morning run to the stream. “You’re older than I am. It doesn’t feel right to let an old geezer like you do all this work by yoursssself.”

“Oh ha ha.” Ratau scoffs, setting the two buckets of fresh water he drew down beside the door. “I may be close to a hundred, but I’m still more youthful than you are, Flinky. Besides, how are you gonna carry water back without hands?”

“I’d manage.” Flinky says as Ratau sits himself down at the table in the center of the room to catch his breath. His lord’s blessing has slowed his aging substantially, but the daily walk to fetch water was starting to wear on his aching bones. Even so, despite being fifteen years his junior, Flinky had far more wrinkles than he did. It bothered him that he’d likely outlive most of his friends. He remembers when he first met Flinky as a young man getting into the trade. Despite Flinky’s advanced age, he still teases Ratau over the fact he’s nearly a century old, calling him a geezer and an old fart.

He prays that he ages gracefully as the years pass. He still has a long time left, but thankfully with Lamby’s work, he will be able to live his twilight years in peace.

“Ratau?” Leaning back in his seat, Ratau turns to face the snake as he coils himself up onto the seat opposite of him. “I do not mean to ssssound as if I wasn’t listening to your preaching yearssss ago, but I have questionssss regarding the god you worship.”

“Ask away.” Ratau says with a smile. “My preaching days are long over, but I am more than happy to spread the good word of The One Who Waits.”

“He tried to make you his vessssel, correct?” Flinky asks and Ratau nods in response. “What would have happened to you if you sssstayed?”

“Well, I’d still be fighting the Old Faith of course.” Ratau shrugs. “I wasn’t cut out for it though. I had the determination to fight, but I didn’t have the heart to make all the hard choices that came with the job.”

“Don’t you worry about the lamb?” Flinky asks next.

“Of course I do.” Ratau nods. “I trust that the lord will care for the kid and keep them safe, but it’s hard not to fear for them considering what they’re up against. Count yourself lucky that you’ve never met a bishop face to face. Thanks to Lamby’s work, everyone can rest easy knowing they’ll never see Leshy again.”

“I trusssst they will be fine physically, but aren’t you worried they might be changing?” Flinky shakes his head, rewording his question. “They sssseemed friendly when we first met, but I ssssensed something troubling within them. That feeling has only grown sssstronger with each visit. Their ssssmile feels forced, I feel a dark aura about them. I fear that maybe their godly work is turning them.”

Ratau pauses for several seconds, reaching up to take hold of his paper crown. “My friends and family feared the same thing when I wore the crown.” Ratau explains. “Men and women that I trusted with my life considered tackling me to the ground to take the crown from me, afraid that it would turn me into a monster just like the bishops. The crowns themselves don’t make monsters, however. The One Who Waits is a benevolent lord, sharing the power the other bishops hoard for themselves.”

“Alright…” Flinky nods. “But that is sssstill a lot of power and responsibility to put on a child’s shoulderssss.”

“They’ve proven themselves worthy.” Ratau insists. “Even if there is something to be worried about, that righteous anger will take them far. We’ve all suffered under the Old Faith, but none have faced the bishops’ wrath like they have. I don’t fear for them though. Ever since they took the crown, they’ve gotten their first taste of true happiness in their life. They have people who love them, a safe place to rest their head, and a righteous duty to ensure everyone lives as peacefully as they do. You do not need to worry about a thing, Flinky.”

Flinky looks conflicted for a moment but he eventually decides to drop the matter. It was only natural to worry about the kid, but they would be fine. They were in good hands and good company. No doubt their work would be hard on them, but once their work is done, they’ll never have to take up a blade again.

Ratau rises from the table to begin preparing breakfast for him and his friend when there’s a knock on the door. What are the chances that another one of their trading friends have arrived? Shrumy and Klunko have been pushing their luck out there, it’s about time they hunkered down while the crusades raged on. Ratau’d certainly like some more people to play with. Taking up his walking stick, he approaches the door and opens it up, only to nearly fall backwards out of shock.

“Hello Ratau!” It was Lamby, already having grown a lot more since the last time they met, though that isn’t what startles him so bad. That would be the fact that Lamby was covered head to hoof in gore and ichor.

“What the hell?!” Ratau manages to find his nerve to step forward, tentatively reaching towards them. “Is any of that yours? Are you alright, kiddo? What happened to you?!”

“I’m ok.” Lamby assures him with a giggle. “Sorry, I haven’t had time to clean myself off yet. I was so excited that I came right here.”

“Well you’re not coming inside to track all that in.” Ratau shakes his head. They were still dripping with blood and the smell was about to take him out. The kid needed a bath, but he wasn’t going to have them run all the way out to the river. Stepping over beside the door, he takes up one of the buckets of water he just brought in and splashes the kid with it, washing most of the solid bits clinging to their wool out. “Eh, good enough. Just try not to drip everywhere as you step in.”

“I’ll try.” Lamby sputters, shaking themself off and wiping their face. “I’ll get more water for you before I go, too.”

“Thank you.” Ratau nods, giving Lamby a smile as he covers his nose and backs away to let them inside. “Now can you explain what the hell you did to get this messy? You are drenched in-”

“What in the…?!” The moment Lamby steps inside, Flinky is able to get a good look at them and he’s just as horrified as Ratau was.

“Hello Flinky!” Lamby gives him a wave. “Again, sorry for the mess. I came here as quickly as I could.”

“You know what, I don’t think I even want to know how you managed to get so filthy.” Ratau shakes his head. “I guess my next question is what the hell is so important that you didn’t even bother to wash all that off before staining my floorboards? I know I get excited to play Knucklebones, but-”

“She Of Hunger is dead.” Lamby interrupts, parting with the news they came all this way to deliver. “She perished only hours ago. Two of the four traitors are dead and Anura no longer has its leader. Only two bishops’ remain.”

Ratau and Flinky both sit in stunned silence, letting the weight of Lamby’s words settle in. It’s been what… a little over two years since they were crowned? How is this possible?! He was incredibly proud of the kid, but… How?!

“You don’t look very excited.” Lamby says. “Are you not happy about this?”

“Of course I’m happy, I’m just…” Ratau shakes his head. “I’m in disbelief I guess. She’s actually gone? Is… Is that what you’re covered in?”

“She put up a really good fight, yeah.” Lamby nods, looking down at themself and their stained fleece and wool. “She wasn’t good enough though. The others will fall just as quickly.”

Looking over at Flinky, Ratau finds he’s a bit rattled. Ratau couldn’t blame him. Even though Lamby was their friend, they were both standing in front of a being capable of slaying gods. With the crown on their head and the following they’ve amassed, they might as well be one. There was no reason to be intimidated though. Unlike the other gods that rule over the land, Lamby was a kind and benevolent leader just like the lord they serve under. The grisly work they’ve done today brings the world one step closer to peace.

“Well what do you say we wipe her off of you and then celebrate?” Ratau offers. “With how fast you’re working, I’m sure we’ll see the New Faith flourish in only a couple more years! Here, take this bucket and head down south in that direction. There’s a stream down there where you can clean yourself off. Come back with a full bucket and we’ll have games and drinks waiting for you. And don’t worry, Flinky left me something sweet for you to drink since I know you’re not a fan of our usual stuff.”

“Ok!” Lamby nods, taking the bucket offered to them before stepping back outside. “I’ll be right back!” Hurrying out into the woods, Lamby makes their way to the stream, leaving Ratau and Flinky alone once more.

“Ssssee what I mean?” Flinky eventually finds the nerve to speak. “Ssssomething isn’t right with them. I have sssseen battle hardened warriors tremble after battle and grow sick at the ssssight of blood. Even after battling a god, experiencing indescribable violence, they are sssstill all smilessss.”

“I think I see where you’re coming from.” Ratau nods. “You don’t know what kind of hell they grew up in. They spent their whole life being hunted down, that would mess anyone up. I’m worried for the kid too, but trust me, their heart’s in the right place.”

“I feel you are putting too much faith in that child.” Flinky shakes his head. “Mortalssss should not meddle wi-”

“Of course I have faith in them.” Ratau interrupts. “They are the chosen liberator of my lord. The same lord who gave me my brother back, who allowed me to save my friends, who gave me a longer life to ensure I will live to see the New Faith rise. My faith has never faltered. Were it not for his interjection, Lamby wouldn’t be with us and the bishops would still be terrorizing us. If anything, Lamby is blessed to not be bothered by the grim work they do, so content they are with their duty. I know I wouldn’t have the stomach for such work.”

“That’s…” Flinky sighs. “Sssshrumy always said he thought you were creepy. Perhapssss I am just not used to you zealous types. I will trusssst your judgment.”

“I understand it being a bit difficult to grasp.” Ratau nods. “Even when I wore the crown I questioned my lord and my purpose, but it wasn’t long before I fully accepted my place. Now…” Walking towards the corner of the room, Ratau grabs a bottle from his stash. “All this heavy talk about god slaying and our place in the world can wait. Lamby wants to celebrate and I’m sure your worries will go away when all you see is a kid playing games with their friends.”

“Very well.” Flinky relents, slithering out of his seat to fetch a game board. “I hope you are right about them. I fear with how much they fight, what will they do when the fighting is over? Do they just hand the crown back and live a normal life? Ssssomehow I doubt that will happen.”

Ratau pauses. What will happen once this is all over? The lord will be free to rule, but what will become of his disciples and vessels? What will happen to him? What will happen to Lamby?

“I’m back!” The front door is opened up and Lamby lets themself inside, looking damp but otherwise clean. “Can we play Knucklebones?”

“Course we can, Lamby.” Ratau nods, giving them a smile. “You’re the one who slayed a god, you get to pick whatever game you want.”

“Yay!” Lamby cheers, setting down the bucket of water Ratau asked them to get before hurrying over to the table to seat themself beside Flinky. Ratau moves to sit next to them as well, but Flinky’s words still linger in his head.

What will become of them once the lord is free and they’re no longer needed?

Popping the cork on his bottle, Ratau throws it back and takes a swig. He can’t let his faith falter now. He trusts his lord will see to it that they are all rewarded for their assistance. He can’t question him when his freedom quickly approaches. Besides, seeing that smile on the kid’s face, he knows they’re doing fine.

Chapter Text

Already, Lamby could tell their progress was coming to a screeching halt.

Leshy was overconfident and stupid, challenging Lamby without any consideration of their skills or what they were capable of. Heket was much stronger than Leshy and her fury carried her far, but she suffered the same fate, underestimating Lamby and how much godly power was hidden within their small frame. The remaining two traitors have taken the hint and they are now in hiding, one too cowardly to face them head on despite his overwhelming strength, and the other is either waiting for the perfect moment to strike or is so lost that they don’t even know what’s going on.

It made their crusades frustrating.

In a little over two years, Leshy and Heket were slain. In that same amount of time, Lamby has only ever caught glimpses of the remaining two bishops. They kept their distance, sending their armies to slow them down from afar. Their zealots are far stronger than the previous two, likely bolstered and trained by the bishops to actually try and match the strength of the invader that keeps trespassing onto their domains, but even their stronger numbers and better training paled in comparison to the power at Lamby’s disposal.

And they were only getting stronger with time.

Their body was decorated with various jewels and accessories which carried the protective power of The One Who Waits’ holy talismans. They wear a fleece made of threaded gold, befitting for a powerful lordling such as themself. Countless weapons wait at their disposal within the crown and they have learned numerous curses. They could end a man’s life in so many ways, they sometimes allow those who give them a proper and fair fight to choose how they wish to perish. Do they wish to burn? Drown? Fall to a blade or get crushed with a hammer? It did not matter by which means they died, The One Below would have them.

The most that the bishops seemed to be doing were casting curses not upon them, but their village in retaliation, knowing that they could do nothing to stop Lamby themself. A couple of years ago, the plagues and doubt spreading throughout their flock would have displeased them, but the lord has praised them for their quick thinking and problem solving.

Those who are sick are cured by Lamby, making them more loyal followers and inspiring further loyalty in all those who witness the miracle. Those who can’t be cured, who’s illnesses are terminal, are sacrificed and spared from their suffering while increasing Lamby’s power. Those who grow discontent with the conditions of the village or accuse Lamby of being a false god are also typically sacrificed, their cries for help falling on willfully ignorant ears, though some they have found other uses for. Marching through the Silk Cradle, they are joined by three demonic spirits, assisting them in battle and keeping them healthy as the crusade wears on. The hosts for these demons are typically quiet whenever the ritual is performed to draw their evil and rage out to be used as a weapon and they’re even praised by their neighbors for what they see as a nobel self-sacrifice to assist their leader.

The bishops were just delaying the inevitable. Death would come for them all. The longer they hid, the stronger Lamby became. No doubt they were trying to improve themselves as well, but it would not help. Lamby is prophesied to end the Old Faith, there was no escaping it.

If only the cowards would step out and face them already.

They march through the Silk Cradle without much care, aimlessly cutting at the grass and cobwebs with their sword before letting their crown collect it all, never breaking their stride. Back home there are tailors who can weave the webs into silk and stitch together finer garments for everyone so they can look as pretty as they do. They had very little use for coin and everything they owned was adorned with gold. If they ever did run low on coin, that was nothing an offering to Midas and the gods of wealth couldn’t fix.

The One Who Waits has hammered home the idea that their flock is nothing more than a means to an end, but Lamby still likes to treat them with the riches they gather on these crusades. Let them live in luxury before their lives inevitably end. There was a sacrifice every month now, but they didn’t even need to worry about people raising a stink over it. All the trouble makers are gone now and all who are left eagerly await their turn to enter the lord’s kingdom.

A good thing too. The Red Crown was growing ravenous.

It acted out more on its own, oftentimes leaving them entirely to attack their enemies without any input. It had always had its own sense of autonomy before, but it’s never felt more alive than it does now. Even Kudaai seemed weary of it whenever Lamby asked him to temper their blade. The Red Crown did not scream or struggle, it allowed the smith to do his work with no fuss, something Kudaai says they’ve never seen a crown do before.

Lamby has not told The One Who Waits about this change in the crown. They don’t know how, but they know the Red Crown doesn’t want them to tell.

They’re suddenly pulled from their thoughts as said crown flies to their hand, arming them with a sword. They look around, trying to spot what danger it was trying to prepare them for, but they find nothing approaching them. Without their conscious effort, their hand and sword is suddenly lifted straight up into the air with a powerful slash.

Bug guts pelt the back of their head as a jumping spider is sliced in two just above them. They had marched into an ambush, but thankfully the Red Crown was much more observant that Lamby was.

Spinning on their heels, Lamby quickly scans their surroundings and the space above them, taking notice of several other beasts falling from the branches to try and ambush them. Those who try to veer away to avoid getting diced like the first one are chased down by the summoned demons at Lamby’s command and those who are brave or stupid enough to face them head on quickly learn their mistake. Ducking and darting between their stingers and pincers, Lamby follows up each dodge with a swing of their sword, cutting down the monsters with ease.

They’ve been fighting for years now, these mindless beasts are nothing to them.

In less than a minute, ten of Shamura’s monsters are slain, their gore strewn around the clearing. Letting go of their blade, Lamby tries to get the guts running down the back of their neck off as the Red Crown flicks itself clean and returns to their head. A mild annoyance that certainly would have been painful if the crown hadn’t reacted fast enough, but even if they took a direct hit, it wouldn’t hold them back for long. The small demons at their command feast on the bodies, separating the flesh from the bone so they can gather them for future rituals.

Lamby is just about done getting the gunk out of their wool when they notice a sudden shift in the air. The demons panic, scattering around the clearing as the sky suddenly grows dark. The crown remains still on Lamby’s head, though they can feel an unmistakable tension radiating from between their horns.

Lamby stands at the ready, eager to finally meet one of the traitors face to face for the first time in a year. They still remember a time when the terrible feeling rumbling through their guts used to paralyze them with fear, but the bishops no longer held sway over them.

They were the one to be feared, not the bishops.

The earth before them suddenly ruptures and spews forth an inky black substance. Emerging from the dark, the towering and imposing form of Shamura, They Of Might, rises before Lamby. Lamby stands unbothered, looking up at the traitor as they try to focus all of their eyes down on them. They stare at each other for some time as Lamby waits for the traitor to speak, but they remain silent, holding their gaze and remaining still.

“Do you not have anything to say?” Lamby challenges them, speaking up against the silent god. “Did you forget what you came here to do, or are you finally giving yourself up because you know it’s pointless to resist?”

“Five becomes four becomes three becomes two becomes one becomes nothing…” Shamura speaks, mumbling out the same prophecy they babbled on about countless times before.

“None of this is new information for me.” Lamby shakes their head dismissively.

Seemingly all at once, Shamura appears to become lucid, their eyes becoming more focused. “Allow me to tell you something you don’t know.” They say, their voice clear for the first time since Lamby’s heard them. “You have been lied to. Your lord does not care for you and never has. You are misguided, as are all who follow him.”

“This again?” Lamby is not impressed. “Heket spat out the same nonsense, calling The One Who Waits a lying bastard who deserves no sympathy. I’ve seen what you’ve done to him, none of you have denied it. He told me you were all traitors who deserve to be put down and all I see is truth in that statement.”

“Ah yes…” Shamura shakes their head with what sounds like pity in their voice. “He treats you as he treated us, through lies of omission. We could never catch him in a lie, feigning honesty and virtue while he was clearly hiding something. He was very much the opposite of his sister, soft spoken and quiet, speaking only when he was ready. Many of his secrets went with him to the grave, but even as he tries to cling to life, he refuses to part with them.”

“Your mindless ramblings mean nothing to me, traitor.” Lamby scoffs. Every single bishop was like this. Leshy pleaded for mercy despite laughing in the lord’s face when he cried out to him for help. Heket tried to say she was sorry for everything she did despite her vile words cutting deeper than any blade. Every single one of them tried to hold the moral high ground despite what they did to their own brother, to mother… “Nothing you say to me will make my faith falter. Nothing you say will save you from what’s to come. The One Who Waits has only spoken truths; you are all monsters who must be purged before he can usher in an era of peace.”

Shamura appears speechless for a moment, but to Lamby’s confusion, they tilt their head, their four eyes scrutinizing them. “Has he not told you his name?”

…

Lamby stands motionless, unable to respond.

“How can you trust your lord when he hasn’t even graced you with his name?” Shamura demands, their words still carrying a pitying tone. “What else has he been hiding from you? Tell me, why would he keep secrets from his chosen vessel?”

“Shut up!” Lamby shouts, their vision going red as their rage threatens to consume them. “He has told me everything I need to know! He has parted with countless secrets which have helped me slaughter your kin! I will not hear you slander the words of the brother you-”

“You are misguided, as are all who follow him….” Shamura interrupts. Lamby nearly snaps, but upon closer inspection, Shamura seems to have lost focus, their eyes staring off into the dirt instead of at Lamby. “Your lord does not care for you and never has…” Whatever brief moment of lucidity they had is gone and they’re left repeating themself in a mumbled whisper. They start to sink into the ground, disappearing into the inky black they emerged from. They continue to mutter as they disappear into the earth, but even after they leave, their words linger in the air.

”You have been lied to…”

Lamby stands stunned, unable to move or even speak as they stand motionless in the clearing. It is only when the god’s presence fades completely that their demons return to their side, drawing them out of their stupor. Disturbed by the words that still linger in their mind, Lamby reaches up and takes the crown into their hands, desperate for a firm, grounding reminder for why they’re doing all of this.

They’re surprised when they find that the crown’s eye is closed. They gasp, worried that Shamura muttered some kind of curse to hurt it, but the sound draws its attention and it opens once more. Was it trying to protect itself from the same blasphemy that left Lamby rattled, or…

Lamby returns the crown to their head. Lamby had their own secrets, and as upsetting as it was to hear, their lord did too. Lamby could not guess why their lord would withhold something as simple as a name though. Did he say it once and they simply forgot? Surely it was written somewhere in his grimoire, right? It was his own personal notes, he must have signed them at least once.

Did Aym or Baal even know their lord’s name?!

No. No, they couldn’t keep lingering on this. This is what Shamura did, they whispered deceit and lies into the ears of those unfortunate enough to listen. They’ve already corrupted the once pure minds of their flock members, they couldn’t let it happen to them too. They needed a distraction, something to reaffirm their belief in the lord and their holy task.

Calling upon the crown’s power, Lamby sends themself home. They didn’t like to cut missions like these short, the lord especially didn’t like them wasting time, but this would be a necessary distraction.

They needed to pay someone a visit, someone they’ve unfortunately been neglecting for some time now.

“Read ’em and weep, boys! Full house; aces and fives!” The whole table erupts into cheers and angered shouting as Klunko leans forward to collect his winnings. Bop does a little victory jig atop of Klunko’s head as Shrumy silences himself with a drink, angrily tossing his ace and king into the center of the table to be reshuffled. “I told you all I knew what I was doing! Look at all these coins I got now!”

“You play like an idiot, but I musssst admit, you have quite the poker face.” Flinky compliments the crow, but before he takes a swing of his own drink, he throws a quick jab at him. “Not that I’m worried. You’ll losssse it all in another dumb bluff by the end of the day.”

“I wouldn’t be so dismissive of him, Flinky.” Ratau warns as he gathers up the cards to shuffle them. “He’s had lucky streaks before. You forget that he’s a gambling addict. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

“This dipshit doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Shrumy scoffs, setting his bottle back down onto the table. “He bet his own hand when he ran out of money multiple times!” At the mention of his hand, Klunko lifts his arm to hide his stump beneath the table. Ratau has no idea how drunk he must have been to not have intervened that night, but he sobered up real quick once Shrumy actually collected. It now hangs on Shrumy’s shell, the severed hand of a gambler to give him luck.

Bop leans forward to look down at Klunko and shares something with him. “You know what, yeah.” Klunko nods to whatever his companion said. “I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. This is more than enough.”

“Klunko thinking reasonably?” Flinky says in surprise. “Who are you and what have you done with Klunko?”

“Hey, losing my hand has put things into perspective for me.” Klunko says, notably struggling to fill his coin purse with only one hand. “Also, gotta save up for my retirement. Can’t be taking too many risks these days.”

The whole table falls into a stretch of melancholic silence at that. They were all a bunch of old geezers, growing grayer and wrinklier with each passing year. Ratau looked practically middle aged compared to his closest friends thanks to his blessing, but even he was feeling the aches age brought.

“Whatever you chose to do, just know that a peaceful-”

“Don’t you go preaching again, Ratau.” Shrumy shakes his head with a chuckle. “We’ve heard it a million times. I’m sure it’ll be nice on the other side, but I’d rather not think about how old we’re all getting. Now deal out the cards, I still got half a bottle left here.”

“Sure thing.” Ratau nods. He can get behind that sentiment. Even as a preacher for The One Who Waits, his mortality was still a subject that weighed heavily on his mind. Maybe it’s just been too long since he’s felt the cool fog of the afterlife. Maybe it’s been too long since he’s felt the comforting presence of his lord.

Maybe he should pay another visit to Lamby’s village. It’s been some time since he last saw the kid and even longer since he last made the trip back home.

Ratau begins dealing out the cards for another round, when there’s a sudden knock at the door. Everyone turns to face it, questioning who it could be. Has Ratoo finally come around for a visit? It’s been years since Ratau had last seen him and he was starting to become worried. Getting out of his chair and walking towards the door, he opens it up to instead find the person he was just thinking about visiting.

“Good evening Ratau!” Stepping forward, Lamby wraps Ratau up into a hug, just as happy to see him as he is to see them.

“Good lord, Lamby!” Ratau chuckles. “You’re taller than me at this point. At this rate, you’ll be as big as the lord is in only a few years time.”

“I’m not that tall.” Lamby says with a grin. “You’re just tiny.”

“Careful now, kid.” Shrumy calls back from the table. “He’ll take out your legs with his cane if you keep calling him short.”

“Oh, all your friends are here?” Lamby asks as they let Ratau go and step inside. Seeing them beside the rest of his friends, Ratau can’t help but notice how much they stand out. The golden fleece and jewelry hanging from their horns, their youthful features contrasting everyone else's weathered faces. They even stood perfectly straight while everyone else here walked with at least a little bit of a hunchback.

Despite being very out of place with this pack of old farts, everyone still welcomed them in.

“There’s plenty of sssspace at the table if you wish to join.” Flinky offers.

“Here I was putting my stuff away, but maybe I’ll-” Klunko tries to spill his coin purse out onto the table again to continue gambling, but Bop quickly intervenes, convincing him to keep putting his coins away.

“As long as you don’t start preaching or doing that creepy bloody eye thing at us, you’re welcome to play.” Shrumy nods. “Just don’t expect us to go easy on you or let you win just because you have that crown on your head.”

“I’d be insulted if you went easy on me.” Lamby says, allowing Ratau to lead them to the table. “Show me no mercy, I’ll still beat you.”

“Hmph.” Shrumy chuffs. “Sure are as confident as any other crown bearer. Let’s see how long that confidence lasts. What are you here for? Poker? Dominos?”

“Knucklebones.” Lamby says, earning a chuckle out of Ratau.

“It’s a fan favorite for a reason.” He says, letting go of Lamby to go fetch the board and dice. “Just a shame that it’s only a two player game. Guess that gives us time to finish our drinks at least.”

“Oh! Lamby! Would you like to make a wager?” Klunko speaks up as he rummages around in his bags.

“Klunko, you jusssst said you were done gambling.” Flinky points out.

“I am not here for money.” Lamby shakes their head. “I would just like to distract myself with some games… and maybe a drink.”

“Huh?!” Ratau startles slightly at that. “I thought you hated the stuff. What changed?” Ratau learned early on that Lamby hated alcohol and he tried his best to keep his drinking to a minimum whenever they came to visit. To hear Lamby actually ask for one themself has him worried.

“I was hoping to talk to you about it in private, but I don’t mind playing a few games with your friends.” Lamby assures him. “Also, I’m all grown up now. Maybe I’ll finally be able to handle your grown up drinks.”

“I don’t know…” Ratau grumbles. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave these guys and have that talk now? It sounds like it’s pretty important.”

“I don’t want to ruin your night.” Lamby insists. “Let’s just-”

“Here it is!” Klunko suddenly announces, drawing everyone’s attention towards him. Ratau can’t help but let out a sharp gasp when he recognizes the broken talisman his friend holds from a chain. The holy artifact looks to be split almost clean in half vertically, the gemstone in the center lacking any of the luster the full ones had.

Ratau shudders at the sight. The talisman itself wasn’t anything to be afraid of, but… Where did he get it? Who did he get it from?!

Lamby immediately marches towards the table and reaches out for it, only for Klunko to lean backwards from their grasp. “Give that to me.”

“I knew you’d like this.” Klunko breaks into a smile. “Someone pawned it off to me out in Smugglers Sanctuary and I just knew a weird little trinket like this would-”

“Give it to me!” Lamby demands, interrupting Klunko’s story. “I need it!”

“Well I didn’t pull it out just to show off.” Klunko says, holding the talisman close to himself with some worry. “I was gonna suggest we play for it. Bop says I shouldn’t be putting my money on the line, but you clearly want this so why not make a bet?”

For the first time in ages, Ratau is startled to see that Lamby isn’t smiling. They look furious with the crow and it leaves Ratau a bit rattled.

“We ain’t your followers, lamb.” Shrumy tells them, looking pretty angry himself. “If you want us to give you something, you gotta earn it first. Are you so used to your followers bending to your every whim that you don’t even have the courtesy to say please?”

“Lamby?” Ratau steps forward and Lamby turns to face him, their expression softening only slightly. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem agitated.”

After a deep breath, Lamby gives him a smile, though he can tell it’s forced. “I’ll be alright, Ratau. Don’t worry about me.” Returning their attention to Klunko, they reach into their fleece. “How much must I put down to win that trinket off you?”

“I’d say thirty coins is a healthy wager.” Klunko decides after a short aside with Bop. “If I win, I fatten my purse, if I lose, I keep the coin I already won today and you get your shiny trinket.”

“I don’t ssssupose you’ll mind if I make a wager of my own…” Flinky speaks up hesitantly. Uncoiling in his seat, he reaches his tail towards his bag beneath the table and wraps it around something, lifting it up for everyone to see. He too has a broken piece of a talisman, this one much smaller than Klunko’s.

“Do all of us have one of these stupid things?” It doesn’t take much rummaging before Shrumy produces his own broken piece. “Maybe I shoulda paid more attention to Ratau’s preaching. I think the lord brought you here to shower us in your wealth as we gamble the night away. I’m sure someone literally wearing gold has plenty of coin to spare for wagers.”

“You think you’re going to shake me down for all I have.” Lamby shakes their head and chuckles to themself. “That’s only if you beat me. I’ll laugh in all your faces if I walk away from this with a free talisman.”

“Ratau, get the kid a bottle to loosen them up, will ya?” Shrumy says after barking out a laugh. “Tonight’s gonna be a long night.”

Ratau can’t help but worry, but seeing the confident smirk on Lamby’s face as they sit themself down to play, Ratau trusts that they’ll be ok. Something is clearly bothering Lamby, something that has them lashing out at others, but they always came to him for guidance. Simply being here for them is enough to make them feel better. He’s certain that once he has a proper talk with them, they’ll be right as rain.

“I’ll let them finish off my bottle if they can.” Ratau says, joining everyone at the table. “You should have seen their reaction when they first took a sip. I doubt it’ll be any different this time.”

“I’m very different from the little kid you first met.” Lamby tells him, reaching over for his bottle to prove it as they bring it up to sip. The moment it hits their tongue, their whole face scrunches up with disgust. Amused chortles rise out of everyone from the table and in response, Lamby does not immediately spit out their sip and forces it down. They shudder as it burns through them, but Shrumy gives them a slow clap for managing to get it down at all.

“Now.” Klunko takes up the dice Ratau lays out for him. “Get your coin on the table. Let’s play.”

Lamby wastes no time throwing their dice and money on the table, eager to win their prize off the crow. The stakes are low, Lamby’s laughing and having fun, but Ratau isn’t able to keep his focus on them as he’s all too aware of the eyes of his friends on him.

None of them missed Lamby’s outburst, all of them saw the clear rage in their eyes when Klunko didn’t immediately hand over the talisman. Even Ratau felt a spike of fear enter his heart when he saw it. Lamby has slain gods, he shudders to imagine what they could do if they became angry enough to lash out.

They wouldn’t though. They’re all friends here. Something was clearly bothering Lamby and more than anything Ratau wanted to help them address it, but for whatever reason, they’re trying to distract themself. Hell, they were even trying to drink! He needed to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. For now, he just watches, keeping an eye on the kid and making sure they’re doing alright. They’ll eventually wind down enough to open up to him.

Stepping away from his table, he finds the juice that they usually drank whenever they visited and his friends were drinking. It’ll certainly help them relax more than trying to force down alcohol.

Tensions thankfully do start to leave everyone as the night goes on and everyone plays against their new opponent. Lamby’s aggression is forgotten as they lose themself in the game. It isn’t long before they’re joking around with everyone else at the table, making playful jabs and taunting their opponents.

They’re pretty good at the game, it was the only one they really liked and constantly asked Ratau to play, but they were still inexperienced compared to everyone else at the table. Ratau loses count of how much gold gets put on the table, but it’s an absurd amount. Every time Lamby shook more money out of their crown he was worried that it would run out, but Lamby wasn’t even bothered. Shrumy was right, they were literally covered in gold, they had plenty to spare.

Klunko manages to get away sixty gold coins richer before he loses his piece of the talisman. He tries to push his luck, putting some of the coin he won back into the pot to try for more, but Lamby ignores him once they get their prize, moving on to Flinky next. The snake gets only one win before he’s bested and he’s left to count his coins as Lamby turns against Shrumy.

“You’re gonna weigh me down with all the money you’re givin’ me, kid.” Shrumy laughs as he gathers up the winnings from his third victory against Lamby. “Sure you don’t want to switch to an easier game? How ‘bout Go Fish?”

“No, we play again!” Lamby insists, taking off their crown and shaking out enough coins to buy back in. “I have challenged the gods and won, I will not let some geezer beat me!”

“So?” Shrumy scoffs. “I can probably beat all them in a dice game too. All the gods are crazed dipshits who crucify people for fun. They probably don’t even know what dice are.”

“Just shut up and play.” Lamby shakes their head, rolling their die once their money is on the table.

“How can I? It’s not every day I get to humble a god.”

As the night wears on and bottles are emptied, the others start to grow drowsy. After Lamby’s fourth loss, Flinky backs out. “I musssst retire for the night.” He says, clumsily unfurling himself and fumbling out of his chair. “I will be in my tent out back to avoid the noisssse. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Flinky.” Ratau gives him a wave. “I will have tea ready in the morning to help you sober up.”

“I think I’m gonna call it a night as well.” Klunko says with a yawn. “Bop says as long as I’m up, I’m liable to do something stupid.”

“Bop’s a smart man.” Shrumy chuckles. “Better listen to him before you lose your other hand or one of your feet.”

“Right.” Klunko nods, pushing out of his seat and pushing his bottle forward on the table. “One of you make sure the rest of this doesn't go to waste. And Lamby, if you aren’t here in the morning, it was nice playing with you.”

“Nice playing with you too.” Lamby nods along, flashing him a bright smile before returning their attention to the game, though Ratau does catch them eying the bottle Klunko leaves behind.

“How about you, Shrumy?” Ratau asks. “It’s awfully late, and you should already know from experience that the crown doesn’t let its wearer sleep.”

“I’ve made over a hundred coins off this kid.” Shrumy says with a tired laugh. “I’m gonna keep shaking em down as long as I can.”

“You know, such open greediness is actually punished severely if you travel far enough east.” Lamby says. “Your lust for gold isn’t ignored. With that big shell of yours, I’m sure Midas would love to have you encased in gold and made into a living statue in his palace.”

“Oh don’t try and scare me about being greedy looking like that.” Shrumy shakes his head. “I’ve seen actual royalty who dressed more humbly than you do, wearing gold and silver on every inch of your body like a walking treasury. You’re the greedy guts here. Ratau, can you believe this kid?”

“With the amount of money you’ve got now, I wouldn’t be surprised if you came back from your next trip without a few precious trinkets of your own.” Ratau says with a smirk. “Maybe some silver trimmings to spruce up your shell?”

“And become a walking advertisement to be mugged on my travels? Fat chance.” Shrumy barks out in laughter. “I don’t need to announce to everyone how much money I have. I face enough trouble on the trails as is. Though… My shell could use a good polish.”

“Six. Clear your board.” Lamby announces after their roll.

“Aw, damn you!” Shrumy growls as he clears his column of sixes. “Come on, some new hiking boots would do me some good. Let me win this one.” Ratau watches in silence as the game nears its end, both sides of the board stacking high before being wiped out as each player tried to go for big combos to outscore the other.

With one last roll from Lamby, the game comes to a close with them as the winner; 57-38.

“Damn it!” Shrumy grumbles, sinking into his seat as Lamby immediately holds out their hand to collect their prize. “Here’s your dumb jewel.” Shrumy hands over the broken piece of the talisman which Lamby snatches up immediately as their crown collects the coins they didn’t lose. “Not sure why you blew so much money on all that though. It’s broken. I don’t think there’s a jeweler skilled enough in the whole world to put something that’s been smashed to pieces like that back toge-”

As Shrumy spoke, Lamby gathered the broken pieces of the talisman together onto the table. With a flash of power that even Ratau felt, the talisman fused together with an audible crack of energy, silencing Shrumy’s speech as he leaned forward to get a good look at it. The talisman was whole once more, completely untarnished.

“Right…” Shrumy sighs. He always was intimidated by the power of the crown and even a small display of its power like this is enough to get him a bit unsettled. “That’s about it from me then. I’m sloshed, I’m tired, I’m hittin’ the hay. G’night, Ratau. And see you, Lord Lamby.”

“Blessings upon you, Shrumy.” Lamby nods, their attention fixed on the talisman in their possession. Shrumy grumbles an equally unenthusiastic response before making his way outside to find his usual spot to hunker down in, leaving Ratau and Lamby alone inside the small shack.

Ratau can still see tension in Lamby’s shoulders. Even after the drinks, the games, even after winning the prize they played so hard to earn, something was still wrong.

“Lamby?” Ratau speaks up and Lamby’s attention is pulled away from the talisman.

“Oh, sorry.” They say with a quick laugh and a bright smile. “I’m probably keeping you up too. Thank you for having me here, but I’ll be going now.”

“No no no, please stay.” Ratau is quick to change their mind. “I was hoping to play a couple games against you myself. I don’t have anything nice to give you if you win, but…” Ratau pauses for several moments, his eyes scanning the shelves around his home. “Actually, I do. A special prize which I feel might help you.”

“How much do I need to buy into this wager?” Lamby asks, taking off their crown to drop the talisman within and readying themself to shake out more coins.

“Oh dear lord, my friends have turned you into a gambler.” Ratau shakes his head. “You owe me nothing but your time and company, Lamby. It’d be a shame if you didn’t play a game with your old man before you left.”

Ratau sees something shift in Lamby’s face for a moment, but it passes quickly and it’s replaced with a warm, genuine smile from Lamby as they take up their dice. “I didn’t even realize I haven’t played with you yet. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.” Ratau says, returning their smile. “It looked like you had a lot on your mind. You said you wanted to talk in private, right? Now’s the time.”

“I don’t know if…” Lamby falls silent, idly playing around with their dice when Ratau takes notice of something that gives him a bit of a jolt. The Red Crown’s eye closes. Lamby takes note of Ratau’s sudden shock and takes the crown off to examine it. Seeing the eye closed, they do not replace it on their head and instead they set it down on the table beside the board. “I guess this really is a private conversation now.” Lamby says, looking troubled. “Did the crown ever do this for you when you wore it?”

“Do what?” Ratau asks, looking at the now motionless and seemingly inert crown. “It used to always be vigilant, ready to assist me whenever I was in danger. Why is it not doing anything now? Is it sleeping?”

“I think it’s hiding this conversation from our lord.” Lamby says, rolling their die and taking their first turn. Ratau struggles to even reach for his as he considers the implications of Lamby’s statement. “I encountered one of the bishops today.” Lamby continues, waiting for Ratau to make a move. “It was Shamura, in the Silk Cradle.”

“Ah…” Ratau nods solemnly, taking up his dice and playing along. He’s not sure if he’s going to be able to focus on the game much though. “I only ever met them once. From what I gathered, they aren’t all there anymore after what the lord did to them. They spoke of you, of the prophecy of the lamb and how I wasn’t a concern. I hated the way they spoke in whispers, how their voice played against my nerves.”

“They told me some things.” Lamby says, playing with just as little enthusiasm and focus as Ratau did. “Things that scared me, made me ask questions I don’t want to think about.”

“What did they say?” Ratau asks. “I wouldn’t put much thought into whatever drivel they’re trying to force into you. They’re traitors, backstabbers, monsters. They want to drag you through the mud and they will lie and cheat to do it.”

“But…” Lamby sighs, glancing at the crown to make sure its eye is still closed before turning to face Ratau again. “Do you know the name of The One Who Waits?” They ask him. “Not his title, his name.”

Ratau opens his mouth to reply, only for his mind to draw up blanks. He sets his die down and leans against the table, scratching his head with his paper crown. As the seconds tick by, an uncomfortable feeling starts to settle in his gut. He looks up to Lamby and finds they’re just as upset.

“Shamura said that our lord is hiding things from us.” Lamby says, rolling another die. “His name was just the one example they gave, but if he won’t even give us his name, what else could he be hiding? What else has he not told us?”

“Have you spoken to him about it?” Ratau asks. “Surely he’d tell you if you simply ask. I see no reason why he’d hide it from you.”

“Maybe you’re right…” Lamby replies after a hesitant pause. “Maybe… Maybe he just really likes the title. I sure like how everyone calls me Lord Lamby now.”

“Yeah.” Ratau nods. “The bishops are trying to sow doubt into you. Never forget, they are the ones who hunted you down and the lord is the one who reached out and saved you. He can be abrasive at times, but he loves you and always will, just as he still loves me.”

Lamby starts to smile, but they falter, their lips never lifting higher than a neutral thin line on their face. “Yeah…” They nod, rolling their die and setting it on the board. “What do I win?”

“Huh?” Looking down at the board, Ratau finds that the game is over with Lamby winning by a hearty 24 points. “Oh.” Ratau chuckles. “I guess I wasn’t really giving it my all, but I was eager to give you your prize. I think you’ll appreciate it, especially in this moment of unease.”

Rising from the table, Ratau walks over to his bed and the small drawer beside it. Pulling it open, he reaches inside for the gift, wrapped in fine cloth to try and keep it preserved. Carefully taking it into his hand, he walks back to the table and gently sets it down in front of Lamby. Reaching forward, Lamby takes it into their hand and unwraps the cloth to reveal their prize.

“What is it?” Lamby asks when they finally reveal what lies beneath.

“It’s a gift I made for a little lamb just like you, many many years ago.” Ratau says. “Long ago when I was still a boy, the same age as you when you were crowned, my older brother Ratoo saved the life of a young lamb who was lost in the woods. They were scared and didn’t trust anyone, so I made this little statuette of my brother in the hopes that having their rescuer close by would keep them at ease. Though, by the end, I feel they thought the statue was supposed to be of me.”

“And by the end, you mean…” Lamby stares down solemnly at the wooden carving.

“Killed by Leshy only a few days after we took them in.” Ratau nods grimly. “It’s what drove me to fight back against them, what drew the lord to me and made him choose me. I promised Karacyth that I would give it to the next lamb I saw and care for them, but…”

“Who?”

Ratau pauses, looking up to Lamby. “Have I never told you about Karacyth?”

“Maybe only in passing, but I do not know who Karacyth is.” Lamby shakes their head. Ratau takes a deep breath as he settles himself back down into his chair. Once he does, he reaches around for the bottles nearby, hoping one still has something left in it. He’s going to need it.

“Karacyth… was my best friend.” Ratau says, finishing off Klunko’s drink before finishing his sentence. “He was the village elder I was tasked with caring for when I grew up. He taught me everything. He taught me how to play Knucklebones. These are even his dice. I loved that man like a father and I did everything I could to protect him when our village came to ruin. I did everything I could, but I…”

Ratau starts to choke up. He doesn’t remember the last time he thought about the old man and that alone overwhelms him with guilt. Shrumy was probably the only other man alive who knew about him besides his brother. He should be spreading his memory any way he could, but it’s been years since he even thought of him. He…

“Don’t cry, Ratau.” Lamby reaches out and touches his shoulder. “I’m sure he’s resting in peace within the lord’s kingdom, just like-”

“He isn’t.” Ratau says, feeling his voice catch in his throat. “I couldn’t save him…” He leaves it at that, not trusting himself to say anything more without breaking down completely. He reaches around on the table to find another drink, but Lamby reaches out and takes his hand. “In his final days, I gave him that statue so that he could always have me close, just as the young lamb we rescued held it close to feel safe too. I remembered how heartbroken you were to see me leave and how stressed this work is making you so… I know it isn’t the same, but I want you to have that so you’ll always have me there for you too, even if something happens to me.”

“What would happen to you?!” Lamby asks with sudden alarm.

“I have been safely hidden away out here for a reason.” Ratau says. “It’s the same reason I was so quick to leave your village while I could. The bishops are not my only enemy. There is someone else out there, someone who wishes me harm, the same man who murdered my dear friend. Seeing everyone make bets for talismans brought back many unpleasant memories. I fled from home after Karacyth’s death to protect the rest of my flock when I no longer had the strength to protect them, though, even with the crown I wasn’t able to save Karacyth. I remember when everyone would fuss and worry about me going off on my own despite all my protections, but now that I’m on the other side of it, I wish I could apologize to them all for how much I scared them. You’re much stronger than I ever was, but you’re still just a kid, someone who needs guidance from a trusted friend. I’m glad I could be that friend for you, even if I’m holed up in this shack while you continue your work.”

“I’m glad to have you as my friend too, Ratau.” Lamby tells him, leaning forward and wrapping him in a hug. “I have far too many friends these days, too many to count, but you’re different. You don’t bow, you don’t praise me every time you see me, you’re… I’m not sure how to describe it. You’re just different. You treat me with the same kindness you showed me when we first met and you haven’t changed a bit. Thank you for that.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done to make the world a safer place.” Ratau says, patting Lamby on the back. “And thank you for coming to me when you needed help. I may be an old fart who’s not worth much more than a game or two, but I will always lend you an ear if you need it. That is until my hearing goes out of course.”

“I think you might have had a bit too much to drink.” Lamby says after a while, pulling out of the embrace. “It’s late, you should get to bed.”

“I suppose I should…” Ratau nods, looking at the several empty bottles littering the table. Trying to step out of his seat, Lamby offers him a hand to help him along. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to tell you more about my old friend again, preferably when I’m awake and sober. Do you know when you’ll visit next? The guys are going to be trying to trade in the lands you’ve liberated soon. I could use the company.”

“I’ll see if I can.” Lamby promises. “The traitors have been on the run. I fear at this rate, it may take several more years before I’m able to track them down.”

“I pray things don’t take that long.” Ratau says. “I’d like to live long enough to see the day our lord is set free.”

“Come on, old man. You’ve still got a couple of decades left in you still at the very least.” Lamby assures him. “Even if it takes me another hundred years, you’ll at least get to see the chains break from the afterlife as I cut them down.”

“That sounds nice…” Ratau mumbles as he’s led to bed. Lamby lets him go as he crawls in, not even bothering to change and only taking a moment to rest his paper crown on the drawer beside him so it doesn’t get crumpled. As he settles into bed, he watches Lamby as they look down at the gift given to them, admiring the poorly carved wooden rat with a somber look in their eyes. Reaching for the table where their crown still rests with its eye closed, they toss the statuette into its void before donning it, turning to leave through the door. Before they do, however, they turn around and give Ratau a light bow.

“Goodnight, Ratau.” They tell him. “Sleep well.”

“G’night, Lamby…” Ratau yawns. “Please stay safe out there… There are some real monsters out there, but I’m sure you’ve got a good eye for them by now. Just don’t let them take yours like he did mine…”

That damn fox was stuck in his head now. He thought he got over having nightmares about that demon ages ago, but tonight brought up all sorts of old memories, some that desperately needed to be aired out and others he wished he could keep buried.

He eventually manages to find rest. If that bastard fox ever showed his face around Lamby, he’s sure they would see him for the monster he is and deal with him swiftly. They’re a smart kid, they won’t make the same mistakes he did.

Marching through the afterlife, Lamby’s throat felt incredibly dry as they approached the immobile form of their lord. Despite how monstrous Shamura was, despite Ratau’s assurances, doubt still plagued their mind. Even the Red Crown seemed wary of the lord, hiding their conversations to ensure he didn’t overhear them.

It was a simple, innocent question that they wanted to ask, but still, they were terrified that asking the question would somehow anger the lord. As the fog parts though, they put on a smile and do their best to hide their anxieties. They were a silver tongued leader of hundreds. They’re sure they’ll be able to work some sort of information out of the lord without seeming too suspicious.

The lord appears before them and they bow just as they always have, taking a knee in reverence to their lord. “You stopped.” He says, speaking the first word before Lamby could explain why they were here. “You came face to face with my traitorous sibling and then left? What reason did you have to abandon your crusade? For what reason did you return to that pitiful rat when you could have continued hunting for the heretics? Did that traitor tell you something that scared you off?”

So he doesn’t know. The One Who Waits always seemed to be aware of Lamby’s journeys and troubles whenever they came here, asking them how they felt and giving them advice on how to better deal with what sent them here, but he seems genuinely confused this time. Even though he does not wear the Red Crown anymore, he still sees through it, though he can’t while its eye is closed.

“They spouted the same useless drivel they always do.” Lamby tells their lord a half truth, just as Shamura warned that their lord was feeding them. “Muttering about the prophecy and that all would be reduced to nothing. To tell you the truth, I grew frustrated. I was making no progress in the Silk Cradle and left to do something better with my time.”

“By shirking your duties and playing pointless games with that Rat?” The One Who Waits asks, clearly displeased. Lamby themself feels a growing pit of anger within them from the clear disdain he has for Ratau.

“It wasn’t entirely pointless.” Lamby says. Taking their crown off, it quickly deposits the talisman they earned during their games into their hand. “I grow stronger even while I take a break. Besides, even though my mission was cut short, that just gave me another excuse to harvest the gathered devotion my flock left behind. No matter how many shrines I build, they all fill up to capacity in only a day.”

“Then why bother me?” The lord asks. “What is there to gain in coming here? My disciples have taught you everything you could possibly learn. All you must do now is finish your work.”

“Can I not say hello to a friend?” Lamby asks innocently. “I haven’t sparred with Aym in forever, can’t I clash blades with him for a moment before returning to work?”

Aym’s ears flick at the mention of his name, his tail swishing with anticipation, but his lord dismisses the idea. “I’d rather you clash blades with my enemies. Your laziness is what’s allowing them to slip from your grasp. You have shown great promise, but you are losing momentum. I know you can do better.”

“Pardon me if this is offensive, but…” Lamby really shouldn’t, but they can’t help themself. “It sounds to me like you are losing your patience, The One Who Waits.”

“Snrk…” Baal lets out a repressed snort of laughter which immediately turns the lord's eyes onto him. He quickly shuts up, returning to his normal stoic self as the lord turns his unimpressed eyes back onto Lamby.

“You know, that actually reminds me of something that I thought of recently.” Lamby says. “The One Who Waits is such a mouthful to say every time I address you. Don’t you have something else I could call you?”

“Is lord not good enough?” The god growls, clearly not pleased with the constant questions and lack of work being done. “I am The One Who Waits. You have not had problems with that title before.”

“All the other gods have titles too, but you don’t refer to the traitors as He Of Blight and They Of Might, you call them Kallamar and Shamura. Don’t you have a name too?”

The question was in place. Lamby feels like they’ve built up to it naturally to avoid rousing suspicion, so now all that’s left to do is gauge his response.

The two brothers perk up a little bit at the question, the same confused and introspective look that Ratau wore falling across their faces. Just like Ratau, they both come up clueless, turning their heads to face the lord.

The anger in the lord’s expression is gone. He shows no emotion at all, his face is flat and neutral as he locks eyes with Lamby. It didn’t look natural. He was either pleased and showing off his wide smile or disappointed and scowling. The only time Lamby thinks they’ve seen him look like this is when he was retelling what his siblings did to him.

“You don’t need to know.” The lord tells them, his voice quiet and controlled. “My title is serviceable. If you have no other business here, leave.”

He refused to answer…

“Very well, my lord.” Lamby bows with a smile, but behind their mask of contentment, dread starts to eat away into their very core. “I will return to Anchordeep to hunt down your cowardly brother once more. With another talisman in hand and plenty more devotion to harvest, I’m sure I’ll…”

The lord retains his neutral expression as he continues to glare at them. He doesn’t want to hear it. Without another word more, Lamby lets themself out, using the crown’s power to transport them back home. Within seconds, the fog of the afterlife disappears and they find themself standing at the foot of their village, overlooking their flock and everything they’ve built.

With trembling hands, they reach up for the crown and take it off to find that its eye is thankfully closed. Assured that the lord won’t see, they fall to their knees. Tears springing free from their eyes.

The One Who Waits is keeping secrets from them.

Did he not trust them? Could they trust HIM anymore?

If he wouldn’t even part with his name, what else is he hiding? Why would he hide anything from his chosen vessel? Does everyone have some ulterior motive for them? The greedy farmer who sold them out was one thing, but the lord they swore themself to, the lord they worshiped day and night, the lord they killed for…

What will happen to them when this is all done? The lord did not hide the fact that he did not care for Ratau in the slightest. Would they be discarded too, even after all they’ve done? Knowing that the lord is willing to withhold information from them has them questioning everything now. Shamura said that they were treated the same by their brother… How much of the story were they blind to? What if there was an actually good reason they all turned against him?

They’ve never felt this scared since they put on the crown… They’ve never felt this scared since mother never came back… Who were they supposed to turn to? They can’t trust their god. The brothers were undyingly loyal to him and tossed Ratau aside just as quickly as The One Who Waits did.

Ratau…

Could they even trust him?!

Even after casting him out, even after being called useless by the god he served, he still believes in the lord’s wishes. He clearly cares, but… Even when faced with the possibility that the lord might be dishonest, he refused to accept it and told them they were misunderstanding things. He may be too loyal to the lord for them to open up to him…

They had no one…

No one but the crown.

Looking down at the divine headpiece, it opens its eye to stare back up at them. Despite being the instrument in which the lord spied on them, it seems to have Lamby’s own interests at heart. It’s hiding things from The One Who Waits, it’s thanks to its vigilance that they were able to discover this terrible truth.

It’s a lesson Ratau taught them long ago. All of their opponents are making their own moves, plotting their own strategies. Just as they’re trying to build themselves up, everyone’s trying to take them down too. The crown can’t betray them though, it serves them and them alone. The world was full of monsters, and the lord they worshiped was just one more.

Placing the crown back on their head, they rise to their feet and stomp down the stairs to join their flock. They wipe away their tears, feeling their grief and fear give way to a much more powerful emotion, one that will fuel them through the rest of their crusade.

Marching into their village, their heart burns with righteous fury.

Chapter Text

It’s been quite some time since Lamby’s last visit.

How many years has it been since these crusades started? Five? Six? The years all fly by these days. All he knows is that little Lamby has grown considerably since this all began from the scared child they used to be into a confident and powerful leader. It probably wasn’t accurate to call them a lamb anymore, but even after all these years and the no doubt stressful work they do, they still hold on to a childlike sense of wonder and optimism. That, and no matter how old they get, they’ll still be a little kid in comparison to him.

He just wishes they’d come and visit again.

The boys have all left to try their luck trading again on the now opened up trails. They’re growing weary and weak with age, but all of them are eager to get some business done to fatten their pockets before they retire. He might get a visit here and there as they cut through the Darkwood, but it’s likely he won’t see them again for a while now.

Lamby has also been absent for some time now. Ever since their last visit, which must have been at least a year ago, he hasn’t heard from them at all since. He finds himself worrying every single day, praying at his little shrine outside for their continued health. They were so distressed and agitated when they last visited, he hopes his words gave them comfort, same with the small statuette he gifted them. He did give them the doll so they could always have him around, but he hopes they didn’t take it as an outright replacement for visiting him.

He’s sure any day now Lamby’ll come knocking on his door to celebrate the defeat of another bishop. The last two seem to be giving them a lot of trouble, but he’s confident that they’ll manage to take them down. They took out two bishops in two years. The One Who Waits estimated that the Old Faith would take decades if not centuries to tear down, Ratau bets that it will take ten years at the very most.

For now though, he’s alone in his shack, waiting either for his trading friends to come by and visit, waiting for his brother to return from what is now his longest trip away from home, or for Lamby to bring good news. It’s been a very long wait though, and in that time, Ratau has struggled to find ways to keep himself busy.

He still carves out toys even though his friends probably won’t be taking them off his hands anymore to sell. Maybe Lamby will appreciate them. They’re probably a bit old to be playing with toys, but he’s sure there’s some youngins in their village who could take them. He’s picked up Origami again, though he still isn’t very good at it. He considered making paper replicas of the bishops’ crowns to show Lamby how far they’ve come, but most of his attempts are now just crumpled balls of paper.

He wastes even more paper as he tries to focus on his next distraction: Writing.

He’s read plenty of books in his time and is beyond grateful to have learned how from Baal, but writing was not a skill he practiced much. The most writing he ever did was filling out an order form that Shrumy gave him so he could keep track of what stock he was trading over to him. He’s never written an actual letter to anyone in his life and he’s growing increasingly frustrated as he scraps yet another draft.

How the hell does anyone have the patience to write a letter like this? Hell, how does anyone have the patience to write the dozens of books in his collection?! His hands were cramping up, he’s already spilled ink twice, and he fears he might run out of paper before he actually writes something he doesn’t hate.

Putting his quill down on the paper again, he tries to write his letter to Lamby.

He has grown tired of hiding out here all on his lonesome. Maybe it isn’t wise for an old man like him to leave the safety of his home, especially with the enemies he’s made, but he isn’t sure if he can stay here anymore. His friends are going into retirement and wouldn’t be able to make the trip up here anymore as they settle down. With how long it’s been since he’s seen Ratoo, he’s starting to fear the worst for him.

He is a brittle old man, but he still knows his way around a blade. He yearns to feel useful again, to serve his lord, to explore the world. He’s reminded of his youth, of how frustrated he was to be holed up in his village never knowing what lies just beyond the forest. His younger self would probably be horrified to hear that instead of a whole village to run around in, he’d be confined to this lonely shack in the middle of nowhere.

He doesn’t know how long he might be gone, he doesn’t know if he’ll even make it back home, which is why this letter was so important to get right. The thought of Lamby coming to him for guidance only to find an empty home upsets him. If he doesn’t make it back, he wants something to be left behind for them, something reassuring, something that will wash their troubles away.

It’s hard enough to offer guidance and help in person, but he crumples up yet another draft as it's even harder to show the same level of care on paper.

Maybe he should wait. He isn’t sure when Lamby will visit again, but if he stays here, he can tell Lamby what he intends to do in person. He doubts it, but maybe Lamby will let him tag along during one of their crusades.

He isn’t sure how long he can wait though. He’s been waiting for Ratoo for years now, always expecting the next day to be the one his brother finally comes home. He has no reason to assume he’s dead, he technically already was and it hasn’t stopped him yet, so why isn’t he here? Ratau doesn’t know anything about what’s going on outside. What if Lamby doesn’t come back at all? What if something happened?

Grabbing one more piece of paper, he hunkers down and forces himself to write something. He’s had years to think about this, about what he wanted to do, how he wanted to go. His friends told him tales of their journeys on the trails and the books he’s read are oftentimes hard to get into as they describe environments he has no experience with whatsoever. He wants to get out there, but he cannot leave Lamby with nothing.

Drawing his quill across the paper, he begins his last attempt at writing.

"I have tried many times to write this letter to you, only to find myself unable to express what I wish to say. Likely I will scrap this as well and toss it on the growing pile of failed attempts. But still I try. Whilst teaching you, I have begun to think of you as I hope you could think of me as…”

Ratau doesn’t bother wasting more ink scribbling out the last sentence and tosses the quill aside. He can’t think of anything to say that hasn’t already been said before and starting his letter with a complaint about how hard they are to write just felt stupid. He grumbles in frustration, shoving the paper aside.

Maybe he’s a fool for wanting to leave home. Maybe it would be best if he just stayed here. He’s confident Lamby will liberate these lands and usher in the New Faith, he just needs to be patient.

He just wished he knew what to do.

When he wore the crown, when he was seen as his peoples’ leader, he had purpose in life. He had goals to strive for, abilities and skills to improve. Every single crusade, even if it led to his death, provided some small tangible improvement in his skills and offered necessary resources to his flock.

For almost eighty whole years, he’s hid himself away in this shack, spending half of that time terrified that the monster he dealt with would come back for him. It wasn’t until Lamby came into his life that he had purpose again. He played the role of mentor, teacher, father figure. He helped pick up the terrified young child and turned them into the brave and courteous young adult they are now. There was pride to be found in that, but it feels shallow now. He wishes he stayed with them, that he continued to assist them at the village, that he remained a much more permanent presence in their life.

Pushing away from the table, he takes a deep breath and runs his hands over his face. Maybe the loneliness and isolation is getting to him. Maybe he’s just having a bad day. Whatever’s going on, he feels awful right now and he won’t be able to get anything done like this. These were all problems he could deal with later, and hopefully a good nap will solve some of these problems by the time he wakes up. He always starts to feel a bit melancholic after it gets dark.

Walking himself to bed, Ratau lies down and tries to settle in for the night. Closing his eye, he mumbles out a prayer to his lord, hoping that he’s still listening and willing to offer guidance. He just wants to know what he has to do.

There was just one more to go…

Lamby marches through the Silk Cradle at a quick pace, eager to finally put an end to all of this. Shamura wasn’t as cowardly as Kallamar, but they were much smarter. Their armies share that wisdom, laying traps and lying in ambushes around every turn to catch them off guard. Venom currently seeped through their veins where a scorpion managed to get a lucky hit, but they found they liked the burning sensation flowing through them.

Their rage would boil it within them, rendering it useless.

They rarely paid anyone any mind out here now. If they did not draw a sword or bare fangs at them, they served no purpose. Forneus, the delightful old cat who sold them gifts whenever they visited, tried to keep them still to help them unwind, but they no longer cared to keep her company. They were even wary of the divine beasts. The only reason they even bothered following the golden stars or hanging swords in the trees is because the crown guided them towards the old birds.

Everyone had an ulterior motive, everyone was looking out for themself, but not the crown. The Red Crown was their one and only true friend who wanted nothing more than to help them get stronger. It protected them from the people who wanted to hurt them, especially the liars who pretended to be their friend. In exchange for its protection and friendship, all it asked in return was food, and Lamby was more than happy to feed it as many souls as it wanted.

They didn’t need anyone else. They didn’t even have to bother The One Who Waits anymore. All he cared about was progress, visiting him would only slow Lamby down and they didn’t want to talk to the secretive bastard anyways.

As sickening as it was, the only person they even remotely trusted anymore was the bishop they were hunting.

Shamura was their enemy, but they spoke the truth. It is through them that Lamby learned the true story about why they betrayed The One Who Waits, why they betrayed their brother Narinder.

Narinder… Had their lord said his name when they asked, none of this would have had to happen…

Narinder had never lied to them. Just as he said, it was his lordship over death and his ability to undo it that led to the betrayal. What the lord never mentioned was what he planned to do with that power and the consequences of abusing it. Shamura explained that to mortals, the concept of immortality is an enticing yet horrifying curse to have inflicted upon oneself. The bishops had each other, all sharing in their devine permanence, but a mortal man cursed with Narinder’s immortality would quickly lose everyone.

Mortals are born into this world with a deep bond to their progenitors, relying on them to survive. They are social creatures, finding friends, lovers, and families. All living things must come to an end, but by undoing death, by forcing mortals to persist long past their due, they are forced to watch as everyone they knew passed on without them. Narinder intended to spread his gift to everyone, to ensure that no one would ever die, that no one would ever have to say goodbye, but the laws the old gods put in place would not allow such a thing. The old gods have been dead for millennia…

But they would not take kindly to the rules of nature being broken.

It was not out of jealousy or fear of their brother’s power that led to Shamura banishing their brother to the abyss, but pure necessity to ensure the continued existence of existence itself. The bishops’ cruelty in the act was no lie, they’re still ruthless monsters who took pleasure in their overconfident brother’s downfall, but Narinder himself was just as destructive and power hungry as his siblings.

The massacres that followed, the murder of Narinder’s first disciple Methuselina, the slaughter of the lambs, even the death of Lamby’s mother was all a necessary action to prevent the prophecy that predicted not just the end of the Old Faith, but the end of everything. Narinder wouldn’t allow it though. Any one of the lambs could have been chosen, but he waited until there was only one. He wanted them to be alone. He wanted them to have no mortal connections to drag them down. He wanted an immortal killing machine who would destroy his enemies and allow him to carry out his plan despite it going against the laws of nature the old gods put in place.

Lamby would destroy everything.

And that’s what the world deserves after what it did to them.

The only company they kept were monsters who were trying to force them into their schemes and brainless idiots who blindly worshiped the gods who would just as easily destroy them all if they saw it fit. Even Ratau, the poor bastard, was a slave to his faith to a god who did not care for him, who discarded him without a thought. He was just as much of a blind fool as the rest of the idiots in their flock, someone who’d happily give his life to serve a maniac's self destructive goals.

Lamby supposes they’re no better, but what does it matter. The prophecy says that five will become nothing, that the sacrificial lamb would bring the end of days. Millions have already died to try and stop the prophecy, they won’t let their deaths be in vain. They will take the gods down with them, Narinder included. He is just as guilty in this as the other bishops are.

Lamby stops as their crown suddenly alerts them of something nearby. There was a camp somewhere close, cultists patrolling the next clearing. Stepping off the main path, they make their way to the campsite, eager to rid the Silk Cradle of trouble makers. They don’t bother with stealth or caution. A few measly zealots won’t be enough to stop them. Marching through the thicket, they make a beeline for the fire in the distance, their eyes scanning the clearing and counting everyone off as they come into view.

“W-woah wait?! Is that them?!” One of the zealots looks up from the fire they’re sitting beside and takes notice of them. “Oh gosh! E-everyone! Hurry! Grab your weapons and-”

Lamby dashes forward, the crown falling from their head and forming into their favorite weapon of choice. None of the zealots are prepared for them. They walk right into their camp and before anyone can even draw their weapons, Lamby throws their hands forward. Long, shadowy claws rend flesh and snap bone as effortlessly as a knife through butter, felling two of the six zealots in the camp before they arm themselves.

The closest three all manage to draw their blades and charge them, but they all die just as quickly. With incredible speed, Lamby manages to tear all three of them apart in a single movement, coating their white wool and golden fleece in a fresh coat of red. With five dead men strewn about the ground, Lamby marches towards the remaining zealot who has fallen to the floor in shock and horror.

“W-wait! I surrender, please!” They throw their hands up in fear. “I promise, I’ll worship you instead! Just don-”

Lamby has no need for more traitorous idiots who would so willingly turn on their lord for their own sake. They’re killed as swiftly and mercilessly as the rest. In only a few seconds, all six zealots lie dead on the ground and Lamby hasn’t even broken a sweat. Unclenching their fists, their crown returns to their head and they’re free to rummage through the camp as they wish. They saw little reason to look through their belongings, there’s more than enough of everything back home, but their nose takes notice of something that gets them moving towards the nearest tent where the group’s food seems to be stored.

Digging through a tied off bag, they find a small sweet cake. It looks a little stale, but Lamby happily takes it out and finds a spot near the fire that isn’t splattered in gore to sit down and enjoy it. As cruel as the world could be, there were plenty of happy little surprises like this if they searched hard enough. They needed to cherish every one of these small moments of joy, just as they had to before they wore the crown.

Even with its power, they don’t know what awaits them in the future. They needed to treat every day as if it could be their last.

Unfortunately, they aren’t able to enjoy their treat in peace.

A sudden gust kicks in, threatening to put out the fire in front of them. Looking around, Lamby realizes it’s suddenly become very dark. Their night is already ruined, this beast was the last thing they wanted to talk to tonight. With a sigh, they rise up to their feet to leave, hoping the fox will take the hint, but instead they turn to find that the monster is right behind them.

“Hello again, dear friend.” His mile-wide grin is the only thing they can see in the darkness that engulfs the clearing. “Are you enjoying your meal?”

“I was…” Lamby tells him, tossing aside the stale cake. They lost their appetite. “Let me guess, you’re hungry too?”

“Oh, you know me so well, dear Lamby.” The fox snickers. “As usual, I will make it worth your while, though I must say, I have a very special request this time.”

“You’re getting nothing from me.” Lamby tells him outright. “I know what you were trying to do when you asked for a piece of my heart last time. I know you have a taste for godflesh. I will give you fresh meat, but I am off the menu, understand?”

“Yes, of course.” The fox takes a bow. “Forgive me, I was just absolutely famished at the time. Perhaps a god such as yourself wouldn’t understand, but it becomes quite difficult to think straight on an empty stomach. Worry not though, I have a craving for something else.”

“Then out with it.” Lamby says. “I want this over and done with.” The fox was another figure that they despised and knew couldn’t be trusted, though just like the divine birds, he offered them strength. As long as he stayed in his lane and continued to be helpful, he was allowed to continue doing business with them. “Hand me the talisman and I will fetch you whatever you want.”

“Ah… Well, you see…” The fox falters slightly and Lamby tenses. They will not be cheated out of this deal. “I do not actually have any more on me. You have taken all I have.”

“Then what do I have to gain in dealing with you?” Lamby asks, growing frustrated.

“Well, aside from making your friend very happy…” The fox says with a grin. “The one I want to eat has one of my old talismans on his person. Give him to me, and you can have his talisman.”

“I can only give you those I have within my flock.” Lamby says, growing confused. “None of them have a talisman, unless they’re hiding one from me.”

“Is Ratau not part of your flock?” The fox asks and Lamby’s blood runs cold. “I could have sworn I caught a whiff of him on you the last time we met. I have been searching for that rat for years. We have old debts to settle. He doesn’t deserve the talisman he took from me, so if you bring him here, it’s all yours. What do you say, Lamby?”

Lamby falls still.

Ratau was another blind fool, same as every other idiot in their flock… but he was different. He was lied to just as they were, an unassuming pawn who bought into Narinder’s stories. He was just like them, the only difference is that he never stuck around long enough to question his role. Lamby doesn’t believe that Ratau would ever hurt or betray them… but he’s just as loyal to Narinder as the brothers were. If he were forced to choose between the lord and Lamby, who would he pick?

They can’t say for sure that he’d pick them over the lord. They can’t know for certain if Ratau could be trusted.

Reaching up for their crown, Lamby takes it off and looks it in the eye, desperate for guidance from the only friend they could trust. It couldn’t necessarily talk, but it shared secrets with them, it had some form of communication and they were praying that maybe it will hear their pleas and tell them what they should do.

The crown offers them nothing though. It was hungry and they needed more power. They’ve sacrificed dozens to feed the crown and plenty of people to the fox in exchange for holy talismans. This shouldn’t be any different, but they never hesitated like this before. They needed every advantage they could get, especially if they were taking the possibility that Narinder could betray them seriously. They needed this talisman.

“Well?” The fox speaks up, giving them a coy little smile. “Do we have a deal?”

At the very least, Ratau will be able to experience the relief of the afterlife once more, to meet the lord he was still faithful to.

Without a word, Lamby calls upon the power of the crown in their hand, opening a rift in the world to pull the old man out. The earth splits apart and the air around them is displaced as the crown does its thing, killing the fire behind Lamby and plunging the clearing into pitch darkness. There is a brief flash of light as the world opens up to spit out their chosen target before everything becomes black once more.

“W-wha?” It was late, the old man must have been fast asleep before they pulled him out here. He has no idea what’s coming. “Where… Where am I? My lord?” Lamby turns their head away, bracing themself to hear the crunch as the fox goes in for the kill, but he doesn’t rush in with the efficient and ruthless grace he usually did.

He takes his sweet time with the old man.

“Hello… old friend…” Following his voice, all Lamby can see is the fox’s teeth in the dark, stretching wider and wider in a sadistic grin. “It’s been a long time.”

“No…” The old man is invisible in the darkness, but Lamby can hear the fear in his voice. “No no no… Not like this… Not like this! He’s hyperventilating, unable to get a deep enough breath in to get more than a few words out as he scrambles around in the dirt. “Please! Oh lord, PLEASE!”

“Calm yourself, Ratau.” The fox darts forward, grabbing hold of Ratau who lets out a terrified shriek as he’s lifted off the ground. “Aren’t you happy to see your old friend again? Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you yet. I’m going to make you apologize first for what you did to me after I did you that favor. Are you sorry?”

“PLEASE!” Ratau cries out in pure terror, causing Lamby to wince. “PLEASE GOD! NOT LIKE THIS! DON’T LET HIM TAKE ME!”

“There’s no one here to save you this time.” The fox chuckles and Lamby hears Ratau cry out in pain. “I’m glad I found you before you became as old and shriveled as that pitiful old man you had me kill. Now, apologize to me now, or I’m going to draw this out for you.”

“W-wait…” Lamby speaks up, their heart hammering in their throat. They thought this was just going to be another quick kill and that Ratau would be sent off to the afterlife, but from the sounds of it…

“LAMBY!” Ratau hears their voice. “PLEASE LAMBY! DON’T TRUST THIS MURDERER! HE’S THE ONE WHO-” With a gut churning snap, Ratau’s pleading is replaced with howling cries of pain. The fox only laughs at his suffering.

“That isn’t a sorry, Ratau.” He says, a tongue gliding across his sharp teeth. “Make this better for the both of us and apologize. I promise, I’ll make it quick.”

“Lamby…” The old man chokes out, pain and exhaustion strangling as he’s tortured in the fox’s grip. “Please…”

Lamby stands petrified, trembling in fear for the first time in years. This is the same monster that the old man was warning them about, the one who killed his elder and stole his soul. If the fox took him, he would not make it to the afterlife.

The Red Crown was still in their hands. They look down at it, desperate for guidance, begging to know what they’re supposed to do in this situation.

The crown’s eye is closed. It would serve them in whatever choice they made, but it would not help them make it. They had to decide for themself. They didn’t know what to do, they needed guidance.

Arming themself with the crown’s power, they step forward and reach out to grab Ratau. He was the one who taught them how to make hard decisions like this, he was the only reason they got this far. They couldn’t let him die.

“The deal’s off.” Lamby states, reaching their other hand out to grip down on the fox’s arms to force him to let go of the crying old man. “Leave.”

“Excuse me?” For once, the fox’s smile falls. “The old rat’s already in front of me. If you’re angry that this is taking too long, swipe his scarf and leave him to me. I have unfinished business with-”

“Let him go.” Lamby tightens their grip around the fox’s arm.

“Come on, dear friend.” The fox chuckles. “You aren’t going to throw away everything we’ve built up for some useless old man, are you? You wouldn’t have gotten this far if it weren’t for-”

“I SAID LET GO!” With a forceful tug, Lamby pulls against his arms until they feel something break. The fox screams out in agony, letting Ratau go. Lamby quickly drops the injured rat behind them before stepping forward to insure they were between the demon and the old man.

“You too…” The fox growls through clenched teeth. “I try to do you a favor and this is how you repay me?!” The fox’s barred teeth approach them in the darkness which seems to grow blacker. “No one’s out here to save you two this time. I’ll tear you two apart and use your crown as a cup to drink your blood from you bastard! How dare you defy me?! Your dear friend?!”

“It’s only because you’re my friend that I’m allowing you to live.” Lamby tells him, feeling that his empty threats sound an awful lot like the bishops’ right now. “I’m giving you-”

Claws rake against their face far too fast for them to react, but they are able to catch the hand that scratched them in their gauntlets. They apply enough pressure until they hear something crack in the fox’s wrist, earning another strangled cry of pain out of him.

“Since you didn’t hear my warning, I’ll let that slide.” Lamby says with barely repressed rage. “I’m giving you one chance. Run away and hide in the shadows where you belong, or face the unbridled wrath of a god.” Lamby shoves the fox forward, leading him to stumble backwards. They can’t quite tell in the darkness, but they think he’s scared. “I promise you, I will take great pleasure in tearing you apart if you decide to stay, friend.”

“Damn you…” The fox hisses, but he does not step any closer. He starts to back away, whimpering in pain. “Damn you both! I will make you both pay! One way or another! I will not stand for this betrayal!”

Lamby remains still, flexing their fingers, begging for the creep to take another swing at them to give them the excuse they’re waiting for to rip him to shreds. He unfortunately does not take the opportunity. He backs away into the dark, his once mile-wide grin now a permanent scowl as he slinks off into the thicket. The darkness fades as he makes his retreat, allowing moonlight to illuminate the clearing once more.

The moment the darkness of the fox is gone, Lamby turns to rush to Ratau’s aid.

They’re horrified by the condition he’s left in. He’s thankfully still alive, but he looks completely out of it. He’s barely clinging to consciousness and with what little strength he has, he covers his head and cowers in the dirt, mumbling out prayers to be spared, for his lord to save him, for Lamby to save him. His left leg is broken, a compound fracture jutting out just below his knee where he’s bleeding heavily.

“Ratau!” Guilt strangles Lamby as they kneel down beside him, horrified by what they allowed to happen. “Ratau, I’m so sorry I-”

“NO!” Ratau flinches away from their touch, hurting himself in the process and causing him to cry out in pain. “Please no! Don’t take me! Just let me die! Don’t take my soul!”

“Ratau, it’s me! It’s Lamby!” Lamby tries to hold Ratau still to keep him from hurting himself any further, but applying any pressure at all seems to hurt him and he resists every attempt, crying out to be spared whatever horrible fate the fox had in store for him. Every single time he flinched at their touch, every time he cried to be left alone, Lamby felt an unbearable pain in their heart.

What if he knew that it was them and he was still trying to get away? What if they betrayed his trust and he thinks they want to hurt him…

They’ve become as monstrous as the gods they hunt…

“Please! Ratau! I don’t want to hurt you!” Lamby pleads with the old man, desperate to try and calm him down. “You need help. You have to let me take you home.”

“Just let me…” Ratau still flinches away from their touch, but the pain and blood loss is draining the fight out of him. “Let me die… Let me see my friends again…”

“No!” Lamby shakes their head. “No, I need you! Please Ratau! I’m sorry!”

“Just… let me…” Consciousness slips away from Ratau completely and pure terror fills Lamby’s heart. They grab hold of him, desperate to keep him alive, wondering what they could do to help. Since the fox isn’t taking him, his soul should go to the lord, but knowing how much of a lying scumbag Narinder is and knowing how much he hates Ratau for failing to rescue him, they aren’t even sure if he’ll be granted the peace he wants. They need to keep him breathing. They don’t want to lose the only person who treated them like an equal, like a friend.

Thinking of what the fox said about Ratau having a talisman for them to take, they grab hold of his scarf. They hoped to maybe use it to staunch Ratau’s bleeding, but they felt something jostle around just beneath the fabric. Pouring as much of their fervor into it as possible, they watch as the talisman’s magic works to heal Ratau, his leg twitching as it tries to realign itself and seal his wounds.

It isn’t enough though. Even with all of Lamby’s fervor and determination, the damage is too severe for faith alone to fix. They’ve bought themselves some time and stopped the worst of the bleeding, but he’s still hurt. They couldn’t do this alone. They needed help, but there were so few people they knew who they could trust, and even fewer that they knew who might be able to fix this.

Wrapping Ratau’s unconscious body into their arms, they open another rift just below them, transporting them both back to the lonely shack where Ratau lived. Hurrying him towards the door, they pray that one of his friends will be inside, willing to help treat him, but kicking the door down, they find it is dark and empty. Lamby hurries Ratau over to bed, gently lowering him down onto the mattress and continuing to pour as much energy as they can spare into his talisman to heal him.

Once he’s on the bed and as stable as they can make him, they look around the house, desperate to light and warm the place up to make him more comfortable. Matches are no issue, approaching the nearest candle, simply pinching their fingers over the wick is enough to light them as they channel the crowns power through their fingers. They hurry to light the stove in the corner to warm the place up, but with the room still dark, they bump into the table in the center, causing something to clatter over and spill. They quickly reach forward to fix it and their hands become wet with… ink?

They hurry to illuminate the rest of the home, giving them enough light to find there were several crumpled up papers scattered around the table, as well as one that seems half finished, its bottom corner now soaked with the ink they spilled. They almost ignore it, desperate to continue warming the house up to make sure Ratau recovers quickly, but curiosity gets the better of them. It’s been far too long since they last visited and they didn’t even know the old man could write. They take hold of the paper, reading through the short passage written on it and…

And…

Their eyes scan over the last couple of lines over and over again, each time getting harder to read as their tears blur their vision. How long has he thought of them like this? The moment they first met him, when he offered a helping hand during the scariest moment of their life, Lamby latched on to him immediately. No one had shown them as much care and kindness since their mother died and they feared that they would never experience that love again. They had never met their father, he died long before they were born, but Ratau…

They thought it was stupid. He was doing his duty as the previous crown bearer and raising them up to be his successor. Ratau helped everyone, even as powerless as he was. Any special care he showed them was just because they needed the attention, they needed to be taught and brought up, but… Even after he taught them everything he knew, after he went into retirement and put all of this behind him, he still cared about them, he still worried about them. He treated them as if they were his own.

And Lamby nearly threw it all away thinking he was just some stupid, crown worshiping zealot.

What the hell was wrong with them? Why were they like this? How many other people have they pushed away? What other horrible things have they done without realizing? Are they to blame for all of this? Is Narinder? Gods, what have they done?!

Tears sting at the scratches still present on their cheek as grief and horror overwhelms them. They don’t remember the last time they cried like this. Did they cry this hard when their mother died? When they were found out and dragged to the chopping block? Both of those were out of their control, terrible things that happened to them, but there was no one to blame for the terrible things going on now but them. They were disgusted with themself, horrified that they let themself get to the point that they’d trade their best friend, their father, over to a monster for a stupid trinket.

They take their crown off and look down at it once more. Its eye remains closed, hiding their tears and shame from the lord. The Red Crown has saved their life countless times, but how much was it at fault for what happened to them? How many people have they fed to it? How many people have they killed with its power? Lamby wanted to throw it away, to get rid of this terrible thing that allowed them to cause so much harm, but they can’t. It’s the only thing that’s keeping them going anymore. Without it, they’d be powerless against the wrath of Shamura, their bloodthirsty cult, and the wrath of the lord who would not take kindly to their failure.

It allowed them to make this choice though, to refuse gaining more power to save the life of their friend. They let its power corrupt them, but that was through no fault of its own. It could help them set things right. They flip the crown over, shaking it in the hopes that maybe it will give them something that can help. Maybe they still have some camellias in there somewhere to make medicine. Maybe it can give them the grimoire which might have some sort of healing ritual to make Ratau better. Maybe-

The crown obliges, giving them something to help them in the right direction, but it isn’t what they were expecting. Clattering to the floor, Lamby reaches down and picks up the small wooden statue Ratau gave to them as a gift. Thinking back to what the fox said about Ratau’s scent on them, they realize with a bit of horror that this might have been what gave him away. Holding it close, Lamby hopes that it might also save him.

Lamby still had very few people they could trust fully, but there’s someone they know that Ratau will trust without question, someone he’s been waiting to see for a very long time. Looking over Ratau one last time to make sure he was as comfortable as he could be, Lamby uses the crown to teleport once more, throwing themself not into the Silk Cradle, but Anchordeep. It hasn’t been completely cleared out yet after Kallamar’s death, there’s still plenty of danger, but nothing is going to stand in their way as they search for the shaman who frequents these parts.

They’ve already cleared out this stretch of the Anchordeep, but hidden deep within the coral reefs, hidden away from any of the trails, there is a shrine. Lamby did not fully understand the place at first, the magic on display being completely alien to them and not related to the Old Faith at all, but without its magic, they would not have been able to survive in their battle against the cowardly bishop. That magic should be able to help Ratau as long as they’re able to get the shaman to leave the shrine and follow them to his home.

Retracing their steps, they’re eventually led to the shrine by the sound of a steady heartbeat.

They quietly step into the small clearing, the heavy and metallic scent of blood filling the air. A large heart beats steadily over a small blood red pond, its rhythmic beats somehow forcing Lamby’s own heart to beat just as calmly despite the urgency of the situation. Sat down at the edge of the red pond, surrounded by strange heart shaped creatures is the old shaman.

The old rat looks much older than Ratau, deep creases lining his weathered face. He’s missing an eye too on the opposite side of his face, but that isn’t all he’s missing. Just below the skull necklace the shaman wore, there is a massive empty cavity in his chest, his ribs jutting out of the black, rotted flesh that still clings to his frame. He seems completely unbothered by this injury, however, peacefully fishing in the blood pond, humming a strange tune in rhythm with the heart beating behind him.

It isn’t until Lamby runs right up to him that he takes notice of their presence. “Oh… Hello there…” His eye can barely focus on Lamby. it’s glazed over and distant, much like Shamura’s. “Come to find respite in this lovely place? I am still searching. I’m sure I will find it one da-”

“I need you to come with me, right now!” Lamby interrupts, not having time to listen to this sad old man’s woes. “My friend is hurt and he needs your help.”

“Ah, there is no need to rush…” The shaman shakes his head, clearly not paying attention to Lamby’s words. “I can stop my fishing if you’d like to take a dip. The lifeblood of the old gods does wonders to heal the aches and-”

“No you deaf old man!” Lamby barks. “It’s your brother! He’s hurt! He needs you!”

“-Oh how I miss having a heartbeat of my own…” The shaman continues to ramble through Lamby’s shouting, completely lost. “I pray I find her one day, to feel her love one more time before The One Who Waits takes me. I must keep searching the sea fo-”

Stepping forward and grabbing hold of the fishing rod in the shaman’s hands, Lamby wrenches it out of his grip and snaps it over their knee in a fit of rage. Had Ratau’s life not been on the line, they would have lost all patience with this brain dead corpse, but they couldn’t give up yet. Still holding onto the statuette Ratau gave them, they hold it out in front of them, shoving it into the shaman’s face.

“Ratau! Your brother! He is dying!” Lamby screams at him, praying that they’ll get through to him. “He needs your help! Stop sitting here feeling miserable about yourself and help me save him, damn it! Please, Ratoo!”

Ratoo stares up at them in shock, but very slowly, his expression starts to shift. His eye seems to regain focus as it studies the little statuette held out in front of him, and shortly after that, his eye flicks upwards towards the crown resting on Lamby’s head. Recognition finally seems to settle in as the shaman pushes himself to his feet.

“That crown…” Was this the first time he took notice of it after all their meetings? “Ratau used to… You said Ratau is-”

“Dying! He needs your help!” Lamby nods, ecstatic to see the old man is finally lucid enough to listen to them. “I can take you to him, but we have to hurry! I don’t know how much time he has left.”

Ratoo looks around. His mind must still be clouded, but he seems to be acknowledging his situation for the first time in forever. Ratau always talked fondly of him and has been eagerly awaiting his return home, but he’s spent all his time here at this shrine belonging to a god long since forgotten. Was he debating if leaving this place was worth it?

Whatever fog was clouding his mind quickly passes, however. Reaching beside him where his walking stick lies and kneeling down to grab a small cage with a beating heart within it, Ratoo holds his arm out with a noticeable glint in his eye. “Take me to him.” He pleads. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen him.”

Lamby wastes absolutely no time, wrapping their arm around his and opening up a rift right beneath them to drag Ratoo through space to get him to his brother. It’s a short trip and the moment they’re grounded, Lamby hurries towards the shack with Ratoo stumbling after them with his arm still wrapped in theirs. Lamby kicks the door open, throwing it wide before tossing Ratoo inside to see where his brother is.

Ratau looks even worse than he did before Lamby left, but he’s still breathing.

Ratoo stands stunned for a moment, horrified to see the condition his brother is in, but he eventually finds the nerve to step forward, kneeling by his bedside. Lamby stands at the door, watching in silence as the shaman brings up the small cage in his hand and gets to work. They have no one to pray to in order to bless Ratau and wish him quick healing. Shamura certainly didn’t care, they already know that Narinder saw him as a disappointment.

They don’t even know if their blessings would be wanted, considering it’s their fault that he’s hurt.

Lamby steps outside, giving the brothers privacy and themself room to think. They have never needed guidance more than they did now. They had no idea what to do, who they could talk to, who they could turn to for help. All they had was the crown, but after seeing how close they were to losing Ratau, they realized that wasn’t what they wanted. They don’t want to be self-reliant like they used to be, they don’t want to be all alone and untrusting of everyone around them.

They just want someone to care for them. They just want someone to make the world less scary.

They suppose that’s what everyone wants, why their flock follows them so dogmatically. It’s why the cultists they fight worship their flawed gods despite their crimes. They’re all just scared children, desperate for someone to take care of them. What a sick joke that their whole flock was looking to a scared child to care for them when they can barely take care of themself.

Would Mother be proud of them? Of what they became? They don’t think she would…

Tears spring to their eyes again, but once more, their tears sting their left cheek. Reaching up, they find that their face is still scratched open from where the fox had clawed into them. It should have healed by now, but the damage isn’t going away. It isn’t anything serious, but if the crown couldn’t heal it, they fear it might leave a scar. If the fox was able to do this to them even with the crown’s power protecting them, they fear that Ratau might be in worse shape than they thought.

They needed to do better. They couldn’t keep going like this. Serious changes needed to be made, but they had no idea where to start. Lord Narinder is still breathing down their neck, eager to see his last sibling fall. They don’t know what fate awaits them after that, but it can’t be good. They still need to get stronger to face the bishop of war, but they don’t know if they can make more sacrifices in good conscience. They need to find some other source of strength. Maybe they’re being as naive and foolish as Ratau was considering he could never go through with what they did, but he’s the better person for it.

“Ratoo?” Lamby’s heart soars when they hear Ratau’s voice deeper in the house, no matter how weak and hoarse it sounds. He was ok!

“Hey, baby brother…” Ratoo replies with a clear smile in his voice. “How’re you feeling?”

“My leg…” Ratau whimpers. “Where am I? How did I get away? Where’s-”

“Please, lie back down, Ratau.” Ratoo pleads. “You need rest. Do not worry, your big brother is here to keep you safe, just as I always have.”

“Where did he go? Is he gone?” There’s still fear in Ratau’s voice. “Is Lamby here?!”

Lamby was about to step into the shack to check on the old man, but hearing the panic in his voice when he mentions their name sends a spike through their heart. He was afraid of them, wasn’t he? He has to know that they’re the reason the fox found him. He’s afraid of them. They back away from the shack, unsure if now is the right time to try and speak with him. They aren’t sure if there will ever be a right time to speak with him after what they did.

They stand there, unsure of what to do, grief welling up within them as they come to terms with the fact that, despite saving his life, they’ve betrayed Ratau’s trust and he may never love them the same way again. They’re not sure how long they stand there, but before they work up the courage to move, Ratoo steps outside.

He looks to be fully alert now, the confused and pained daze he used to be in completely cleared up. His eye lands on Lamby and a conflicted look crosses his face. Marching up to them, he glares down at them for several seconds before he speaks.

“Where is the fox?” He demands, his voice firm and angry.

“Gone.” Lamby tells him, struggling to meet his gaze. “I made sure to hurt him just as bad before he ran away. He won’t be a bother again.” That was a promise. The fox was much more dangerous than they thought, but Lamby would find him again. They’ve already purged three terrible monsters from this world, they’ll be doing everyone a favor by killing another.

Ratoo continues to leer down at them. It’s obvious that he thinks they’re somehow responsible for what’s happened to his brother. Lamby can’t even deny it, it’s true. His expression softens though, the internal conflict in his head resolving.

“I thank you for returning me to him.” Ratoo says. “I do not know how much time has passed or for how long I’ve been searching. I nearly lost my mind in my search for my long lost heart. My chest has remained cold and dead for as long as I can remember, but I felt something within me stir when I saw my baby brother again. I still feel hollow, I still yearn for my lost love, but I will remain with Ratau until he is well.”

“Thank you.” Lamby bows their head. “I am sorry, truly sorry, for allowing any harm to come to him and for yelling at you. Everything has been falling apart and I…” There was no point in babbling about how hard this all is, he likely doesn’t care or already knows how difficult it is to be a crown bearer considering his brother was one. “I don’t know if he cares for me anymore, but I promise, I will make it up to you for helping me save him. I will continue the search for your heart as long as you remain by his side. He needs someone he can trust and feel safe around and… I can’t be that person for him anymore.”

Stepping away from the old shaman, Lamby turns their back on the shack. Despite their efforts to save him, they very well may have lost their only friend in this world. They will not allow something like this to happen again though. The lord wanted them to become a mindless killing machine, a weapon to destroy his enemies before being tossed aside. He waited until everyone who ever cared about them was killed before reaching out to ensure he was the only person they could trust… But Ratau was there for them from the start to keep them on track.

They nearly stole his kindness away from the world, and knowing how fragile he is and how much would have been lost with his passing, Lamby strives to become as kind as he is.

They fear they have a lot of work to do to get anywhere close to him though.

Calling upon the crown’s power, they send themself back home. They had a lot of work to do.

Chapter Text

Everything is a painful blur when Ratau next opens his eye.

His head pulses with agony with every thought as he tries to claw his way back to consciousness. His mouth is painfully dry, his muscles ached and refused to move, and the dim light of the room blinds him every single time he blinks. He doesn’t even have the strength to call out to anyone, only managing a strained groan to try and get help.

Almost immediately, a warm bowl of soup is held up to his lips.

Ratau drinks greedily, desperate for any relief at all. He nearly chokes himself in the process, but after getting it down, he takes a couple of deep breaths to try and recall where he is. He feels icy cold fingers press against his head. Opening up his eye, memories from the night before start flooding back when he sees his brother knelt by his bedside.

“Good morning, baby brother.” Ratoo gives him a wide smile, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around him. The chill of Ratoo’s body causes Ratau to shiver, but that isn’t all that leaves him rattled. It’s been so long since he last saw his older brother, he looks ancient in comparison and it was impossible to miss how horribly damaged his body has become in that time. He looked awful, but the smile on his face showed he wasn’t bothered at all.

“Took you long enough to come visit…” Ratau croaks, delighted to see his big brother again after all this time. “What took you so long?”

“Got a little lost.” Ratoo says, scratching his overgrown and scruffy beard. “I thought I was close to discovering where my heart was being held and nearly went mad in my search for it. It still calls to me, but I came as soon as I heard you needed help.”

Just like that, everything comes flooding back in an instant. The teeth in the dark, the mind breaking pain, Lamby… Ratau still feels sore all over, but he attempts to move his legs. Pain shoots up his left leg, nearly knocking him out again. It wasn’t a horrible nightmare, the fox had found him again and had nearly taken his soul, but…

“How did you know I needed help?” Ratau asks his older brother once the pain in his leg becomes manageable. “Were you the one who saved me?”

“A little lamb came to my shrine, as they had many times before.” Ratoo tells him. “I simply enjoyed their company, but after they snapped me out of my stupor, I saw that they wore the same crown you once did. They brought me to you and told me to tend to your injuries. They assured me that the demon who hurt you would never bother you again.”

So they were there… He wasn’t just hearing things…

Lamby handed him over to the fox…

But they saved him! Ratau was also seduced by the fox’s promises of power. He isn’t sure what the conditions of the fox’s deal was, he isn’t even sure if Lamby knew the history he had with that demon. They were fooled just like him, but unlike him, Lamby actually had the strength to save him and fight back.

“Where are they?” Ratau turns to his brother. “Where’s Lamby?”

Ratoo furrows his brow. “I don’t know.” He says. “They ran off as soon as they knew I would keep you safe. It sounded like they were responsible for what happened to you. They weren’t wanted here, so they left.”

“They are wanted here.” Ratau says, attempting to sit himself up again without agitating his leg. “It’s been ages since they last visited and… I can’t fault them for making the same mistakes I did. They’re just a kid.”

“They nearly killed you.” Ratoo reminds him, looking conflicted by the idea as he tries to keep Ratau down in bed.

“And it’s my fault Karacyth died, but you don’t think any less of me, do you?” Ratau replies, leaving Ratoo stunned for several seconds. When was the last time his brother thought of the old man who raised them both? “The Red Crown changes people. We were both forced to meddle in the work of gods. Tough choices needed to be made, we both had to do bad things in the name of power to free our lord and match the might of the bishops. I failed to live up to the lord’s expectations and… I failed to offer Lamby the guidance they needed to avoid making the same mistakes I did.”

Ratau props himself up and rests his back against the backboard of his bed, still stuck in place as a dull ache runs up his left leg. He tries to think back to the last time Lamby visited him. They were upset and questioning their role as the crown bearer, weighed down by the lies told to them by the remaining bishops. They were scared that the lord might not care for them.

Looking over at the table where his unfinished writing is, he finds that there’s a large black stain where his inkwell must have spilled, but his eyes flick to the last drafted letter he tried to write. It sits on the floor, soaked in the same ink spilled on the table.

Lamby once said that they felt he was different. They had plenty of friends, but Ratau was special in some way they couldn’t describe. Ratau had struggled to put it to words himself, but he feels he has the same connection with them. He’s lived alone for most of his life, forced to hide away to protect others as simply associating with him could be dangerous. It’s been so crushingly lonely out here, but seeing that kid smile every time they saw him, seeing how much they grew and improved themself…

Preparing the new crown bearer for their task was an afterthought in his mind. He just wanted to see the kid happy.

“Help me out of bed, Ratoo.” Ratau pleads, holding out his hand to his brother. “I need to go see them.”

Ratoo stares at him in disbelief. “Your leg is broken.” He reminds him. “You’re not going anywhere right now. Where would you even look to find them?”

“They’re at the site of our old village.” Ratau says, taking in a deep breath to brace himself for movement. “It’s been a few years since I last saw what they did to the place, but there’s no better time than now to visit. The weather is fair, the Darkwood is mostly clear, and-AGF!” Ratau kicks his legs over the side of the bed to try and stand himself up, but the moment weight is put on his left leg, his entire leg burns with white hot fire and he nearly collapses. His brother quickly steps forward to push him back into bed, gently lifting his leg to set it back on the mattress.

“As curious as I am to see what became of our old home, you’re stuck here for the time being.” Ratoo shakes his head. “You always were a fool, charging head first into every situation, but we aren’t the headstrong young men we used to be, brother. I’ve done everything I can to help, but whatever did this to you is resistant to my magic. Only time and rest will help you heal.”

“Fine then…” Ratau huffs, taking several deep breaths to push through the pain, gripping his scarf in the hopes that the holy talisman within will soothe him. “The moment I’m able to put weight on my leg again, we will journey to their village. We might not even have to make the trip. I’m sure they’ll come back to check on me soon after what happened.”

“For your sake, I hope they do.” Ratoo sighs. “I’m not sure they will though.”

Ratau tries his best to lie himself down again, his leg still throbbing with pain. He prays that Lamby isn’t beating themself up too much over what happened. The guilt Ratau felt over what happened to Karacyth nearly ate him alive in the days following his death. He wants to tell them that things are going to be alright.

He prays the lord will care for them in his stead until he is strong enough to seek them out.

Ratau leans heavily on his walking stick, struggling to keep his forward momentum as his leg threatens to lock up. His brother managed to convince him to stay in bed and heal for two whole weeks, but even after plenty of bedrest, the pain hasn’t fully faded. It doesn’t help that this was the first time in years that he’s made this trip on foot instead of being teleported straight there and back. Him being out of shape certainly didn’t help make the trip any easier on him.

“Just a little farther.” Ratoo’s cold hand presses against his back, helping push him along. “We will stop to rest soon.”

“Damn it…” Ratau huffs, forcing himself to keep moving despite how much his feet hurt. “Aging sucks… Eighty five years ago, I could run laps around our home village before I even got tired. I can barely walk a couple of miles now before my legs threaten to snap like twigs.”

“I know the feeling all too well.” Ratoo sighs, walking beside Ratau. “I’m still not sure how long I was stuck at that shrine, but seeing my own reflection again with a clear mind… It frightens me to know that I’m over a century old now…”

“I’m getting close too, but…” Ratau glances over at his brother, at the deep lines in his face, at the rotting bones in his open chest. His brother looks far older than he does despite there only being a three year difference between them. “You haven’t taken off that necklace, right?” He asks.

“I have worn it since you gave it to me.” Ratoo says, glancing back down at him. “Though it seems whatever blessing the lord bestowed upon you is stronger. You look half your age, baby brother.”

“Well, fifty isn’t exactly an age people associate with youthfulness.” Ratau groans. “Though it makes me worry that you’re aging faster than I am.”

“Well, I haven’t necessarily been taking the best care of myself.” Ratoo says, looking down at himself. “I’m sure after shaving all this off, I’d look a little closer to you.” Ratau lets out a low hum at that and it takes a moment before Ratoo addresses it. “Are you worried you might outlive me?”

“I worry I might outlive everyone I know at this point…” Ratau shudders, his pace slowing down. “We’ve already outlived everyone we grew up with. I met Flinky when he was just a snakelet learning the trade and he’s already going into retirement. I worry that even Shrumy will croak long before I do.”

“Shrumy?!” Ratoo perks up. “That miserable old tortoise is still alive?!”

“He’s still kicking.” Ratau nods. “And he’s just as much of a sourpuss as he was when we were still young. He’s still working too. I’m convinced that he’s somehow cheating death just to spite me so he never has to meet the lord in person. He’s ancient and the rest of our friends are trying to talk him into retirement as well, but he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

“Bet you wish you had the same drive he did.” Ratoo chuckles, sounding a bit strained from the walk. “Hell, if he’s made it this far without any help, I wonder what he could have done with a crown of his own.”

“Shrumy without the ability to tire and enough strength to back up his ego? Ugh, It makes me shudder just thinking abou-AGH!” Tripping over a root in the ground, Ratau tumbles forward, letting go of his walking stick to throw his hands out and break his fall. His brother’s cold arms quickly wrap around his chest, slowing him down considerably and leaving him to land gently into the grass. Pain shoots up his leg as he tries to untangle his foot from the root he got caught up on, but he eventually manages to wriggle free.

“Let’s take a break here then.” Ratoo decides, letting Ratau go to fetch his walking stick while he sits himself up. “We have a bit of catching up to do anyways. We’ll need to focus on the trail, so let’s get everything out now while we’re stationary.”

“Alright.” Ratau nods, grateful to get off his feet. Finding a nice patch of grass to lower himself onto, Ratau sighs with relief, pulling his legs close to him to try and massage them. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been gone. So much has changed.”

“I’ve noticed.” Ratoo nods, sitting cross legged across from him. “The One Who Waits has a new crown bearer for one. A crown bearer who nearly got you killed…”

“Yes.” Ratau nods. “A child named Lamby, though they’ve grown quite a bit since they were crowned. The lord called me to action on the night of their execution. I led them to the safety of our old village grounds to rebuild it into the sanctuary I tried to make decades ago.”

“You certainly think highly of them considering what happened.” Ratoo observes.

“Because they’re a good kid.” Ratau insists. “A troubled and confused kid, sure, but they’re just a child. They’ve been on the run all alone for most of their life. That bastard fox probably fed them the same lies, telling them he was their friend and that he wanted to help them. I was foolish enough to fall for it, someone who had so little friends growing up would probably fall for it too.” Ratoo does not look impressed with the excuses Ratau is listing off in Lamby’s favor, so he drops some information that should turn his opinion on the kid around. “They’ve also already killed two of the bishops of the Old Faith.”

Ratoo’s eyes go wide at that. “You lie.” He blurts. “That dainty looking sheep covered in jewelry slayed the monsters who reduced two of our homes to ruin?”

“Leshy and Heket, both put to the blade.” Ratau nods. “The gold Lamby adorns themself with was stolen from their treasuries. The lord warned me that the crusades could go on for centuries, but Lamby has slain half the pantheon in only a handful of years. You may be right to not trust them, but you cannot argue against the clear progress they’ve made. We will see our lord go free in only a few more years, I’m sure of it.”

“To be honest, as pleasant as that is to hear, it makes me question them even more.” Ratoo says. “You were pushed to tears countless times when the lord tried to force you to take Karacyth’s life to help you match the power of the gods. For Lamby to have slain two bishops, what have they done to get that strong?”

“What I couldn’t…” Ratau tells his brother plainly. “I won’t lie. I don’t know what Lamby has been up to over the years. In fact, I’ll admit that I might have overlooked some troubling behavior that my friends pointed out to me. I truly want what is best for them, and… If they spared my life and fetched you to watch over me, I trust that no matter what we find, there’s plenty of good in them.”

“We will see about that.” Ratoo grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. “I have seen some truly terrible things on my travels, all done in the name of the gods. You had enough sense and care not to fall down that rabbit hole, but I do not know if Lamby does. We shall see once we make it to the village and meet the flock they shepherd.” Reaching his hand out, Ratoo helps his little brother back up to his feet. “Shall we?”

“You’re being such a worry wort.” Ratau shakes his head as he leans against his walking stick and tries to get moving again. “Everything will be fine. The village was essentially a paradise when I last visited. I’m sure it’s only improved since then.”

As Ratau says this, he can’t help but worry too. The lord was very harsh with him, hammering in the fact that sacrifices needed to be made and that mortal sensibilities would not get him far. He wasn’t strong enough to make those tough decisions, but he wishes that he stayed with Lamby a little longer to try and help them out. Maybe his advice wouldn’t be necessary or even wanted, but Lamby trusted him and saw him as an authority they could rely on, as a father.

He prays that they’re doing alright in his absence.

After several long painful days of travel, they finally find the village. Ratau had gone away when the place was nothing more than a few tents and huts hastily put together and was blown away by how beautiful Lamby managed to make the place in only a year, but seeing it now, Ratau could barely believe it was the same place.

Stepping into the sacred ground, Ratau is left awestruck by the grand beauty that surrounds him. The homes are sturdy and large, the farms are overgrown with ripe fruits and vegetables, and of course flowers bloom in every available patch of soil. The packed dirt trail that used to lead to the shrine was now paved with a beautiful mosaic as colorful as the flowers around him.

Dominating the landscape and overseeing all, A towering monument resides in the center of the village. A massive, grand statue carved in Lamby’s image stands tall, their arms outstretched as if offering an embrace. Red silken robes decorate it and blow in the wind and a large halo made of solid gold borders them. More gold trims the massive base that holds up the glorious monument.

Something that leaves Ratau worried, however, is the thick black substance slowly leaking from the statue's eyes, staining their garments.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” The moment the brothers stepped into the village, they were greeted by a dozen or so members of Lamby’s flock. There were so many people here now, but Ratau couldn’t recognize a single one. He and his brother were seen as nothing more than visitors and a few members of the flock were eager to show them around. One of those members, a convert named Vephar, brought him to the shrine to admire it, and while Ratau was impressed, Ratoo glared up at it.

“It’s very exorbitant.” He deduces, glancing around the rest of the village where smaller shrines and drawings depict the lamb in a similar fashion. “They certainly think highly of themself.” He pulls the robes wrapped around him tighter, shivering despite the midday heat. This was the first time in a long while that he’s been out in public. The cloak does little to insulate him, but it hides his most gruesome injuries.

“As they should.” Vephar nods, not at all bothered by Ratoo’s comments. “No amount of gold can match their radiant grace in person though. Truly we are blessed with their mere presence.”

“I’ll say.” Ratau nods along, playing into the follower’s praise. “I certainly feel blessed every time they pay my humble home a visit.” Vephar looks delighted by the news and turns to admire the statue again. With his back turned, Ratoo nudges his brother's shoulder and leans in close.

“Shouldn’t these people be worshiping The One Who Waits?” He asks. “I have not seen nor heard anything of him since we got here. All anyone speaks of is the lamb.”

Ratau opens his mouth to retort, but falls silent. Lamby’s reasoning behind erecting the first shrine in their image made sense. They wanted to turn the image of a lamb into a symbol of hope and safety instead of the ill omen the Old Faith had turned them into. This was ridiculous though. Not even the followers have mentioned The One Below or the chains that needed to be broken. They only spoke of the lamb and their incredible power and wisdom.

Looking around, Ratau is left slightly perturbed by something. “Where are they now?” Ratau asks Vephar, drawing his attention away from the statue. “I would assume that they’d step forward to greet an old friend and a new visitor to the community.”

“Typically they would.” Vephar nods, a frown forming on his face. “They love meeting visitors, but they seem to be very upset recently. They have not held a sermon in some time now. They have declared today and the next week a holy day, allowing us to do as we please. They have been in the temple ever since, which is now barred from us. The most they’ve told us is that they are seeking to absolve themself of terrible sins they have committed. I don’t understand what they could mean though as they are without flaw.”

The brothers turn to look at each other. Something very strange is going on here.

“Are we free to roam the village?” Ratoo asks Vephar, taking another glance around the place.

“Of course! All are welcome here.” Vephar nods. “I’m sure Lord Lamby would love to welcome you in personally, though their personal trials have kept them busy. I see no reason why you cannot explore at your leisure. All I ask is that you do not bother the lord within the temple. Whatever it is they’re doing in there, they desire peace and privacy.”

“Very well then.” Ratau agrees. “We’ll be right over here.” Vephar bows his head as the brothers turn to leave, walking off and stepping away from the statue. Once they’re a good distance away and they’re sure no one’s too close to eavesdrop, Ratau speaks with his brother. “I don’t like this.”

“Now you’re starting to see the very literal red flags waving around this place?” Ratoo shakes his head. “I thought you were cutting them too much slack, but the people here see them as a flawless deity. I’m not even sure if anyone here worships the same lord we do. They worship Lamby, not The One Who Waits.”

“I need to speak with them.” Ratau says. “Something has gone terribly wrong. I need to get into that temple…” Ratau looks around at the sheer number of people who inhabit the village. There were easily well over two hundred people here and that’s just the people he’s seen so far. Smoke rose from several chimneys and despite it being a holy day, several people still seemed to be working to keep things running around here.

Looking over at the temple, despite Lamby’s wishes to be left alone, several people knelt down close to the front door, their heads bowed down in prayer. Ratau needed to get inside to speak with Lamby, but with Vephar’s plea that no one disturbs their lord, he doubts that the gathering around the temple will take kindly to him knocking on the front door.

“Ratoo.” Ratau turns to look up at his older brother. “Do you think you can distract them somehow?”

Glancing down at him, Ratoo breaks into an evil smirk. “I know a pretty good trick.” He says. “If Lamby doesn’t turn out to be a complete lunatic when you find them, you gotta apologize to them in my stead for scaring everyone here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ratau asks with growing alarm.

“I’m gonna find a nice warm spot, strip down, and take a nap.” Ratoo says. “I’m sure someone stumbling across a motionless corpse in the fields will draw plenty of attention, especially since I’m an outsider.”

“That’s…” Ratau stares in shock at his older brother. “That is absolutely vile!”

“Thank you.” Ratoo smiles wider. “It’s the perfect plan.”

“I can’t argue that it will probably get results.” Ratau shakes his head. “Just don’t let them drag you off to a burial pit or something in your sleep. I just need a few minutes to get inside.”

“I’ll be fine.” Ratoo assures his brother, giving him a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Playing dead has worked out for me countless times. It never fails. Just give me a few minutes to get comfy and for someone to stumble into me, you’ll have plenty of time to get in.”

“Sleep well, I guess…” Ratau says, watching as his brother walks off past the shrine and away from the temple. He’s got some time to kill before Ratoo is discovered and loitering around the temple he plans on breaking into might rouse suspicion so Ratau steps away too to explore the rest of the village until the plan is put in motion.

Once again, he’s completely lost in the beauty of the place. Lamby always had a knack for design and a desire to make their surroundings pretty, but their tastes have become a bit more refined since he last visited. The place wasn’t a mishmash of colors and paintings, everything was placed with reason. Paved pathways of stone lead everyone around the village, but enough space is left between the roads to allow flowers to grow. Several arches made of coiled vines and grass now border the murals painted on the houses, bringing a bit more order to the creative chaos they once displayed.

It was hard to imagine this place was built in only a handful of years, even with the amount of manpower available. This place made the village he grew up in look like a joke, yet it’s only existed for a fraction of the time. How fast were these homes built? How long did it take to painstakingly place each tile in the mosaic pathway leading to the shrine? Each one of these projects could take months or years on their own, but there were dozens of massive projects like that which were already completed.

There’s one construction that Ratau is curious about, however. Trying to remember where he last saw Tana, Ratau makes his way to a slightly less extravagant corner of the village that doesn’t get as much traffic. The houses here are a bit older and less grand, the layered brick pathways give way to loose cobblestone. Rounding the corner, Ratau searches for the pillory which was erected back here during his last visit.

He’s left stunned and confused by what he finds.

It’s clear that there used to be so much more here, but looking at the place now, Ratau only finds broken splinters and charred wood. Whatever used to be built here was destroyed, and considering the mess was still here while the rest of the place was spotless, it must have been done recently. Ratau steps into the ruins, trying to make sense of what was once here.

Among the burnt and splintered pieces of wood, Ratau finds the remains of chains and locks. The pillory he remembered was definitely still here, but seeing how much was destroyed, there must have been more. How many other people were locked up here? What were their crimes? Ratau continues to explore until he comes across a much larger structure which has collapsed in on itself. He sees the remains of stairs, some sort of lever mechanism, a large wooden post…

Was this a gallows?!

He hears a commotion somewhere deeper in the village, drawing his attention away from the destroyed remains around him. Ratoo’s been discovered, if he was going to get answers for what the hell is happening here, he has to move quickly. Hurrying out of the ruin, Ratau joins the confused and worried crowd as they all start to converge towards the front of the village.

Just as he had hoped, everyone was leaving the temple to investigate. Slipping away from everyone else to approach the building while everyone’s distracted, Ratau quickly tries to find an entry point. Maybe there was a loose spot near the foundations where he could dig into and crawl inside. Maybe there’s a back way in or a window he could slip into. Maybe…

He tries the front door, not expecting to accomplish much as he brainstorms a plan to get in, only for the door to open for him. It was not locked or barred off. Lamby said they wanted to be left alone and their flock obliged, there was no need to lock them out. That certainly made things easier for him, but it also made him feel a little bit guilty as he let himself inside. Lamby trusted that their flock would not disturb them, and here he was barging through the front door anyways. It was necessary though, he needed to talk to them.

Now inside the temple, Ratau is left stunned for a moment as he marvels at the size of it. No longer was it a glorified barn to gather people up for sermons, it was a full blown church which was grand enough to hold the hundreds that make up the flock. Sconces hang from the pillars supporting the place, though the torches hanging from them are unlit. The only light that filters inside comes from the two large stained glass windows, each one depicting Lamby in a holy light, blessing their followers through the power of the red crown.

Lamby themself, however, is nowhere to be found.

Ratau wanders the temple, his footfalls on the stone floor beneath him echoing through the empty building. He brings his walking stick down a little harder than he needs to in the hopes that it clacking against the stone will earn their attention, but as far as he can tell, he’s all alone in here.

“Lamby?” He calls out, though he really shouldn’t. If he’s discovered in here by the flock… Well, the pillory’s out of commission, but he’s sure they won’t take kindly to his trespassing. “Lamby, are you here?” He calls out again, approaching the lectern overlooking the rest of the temple. He didn’t mishear Vephar, did he? He said Lamby was inside.

Ratau’s about to call out again when he hears movement in the building with him. He spins around, catching sight of something darting behind one of the pews.

“Hello?!” Ratau stumbles back, his tail hitting the raised stand behind him. “Who’s there?!” He can’t see it anymore, but he can definitely hear it. He’s not alone anymore. “I need to speak with Lamby, it’s urgent.” Ratau says, trying to excuse himself if this was someone trying to throw him out. “Please, I promise I will leave them once I have spoken with them. Leave me alone.”

Whatever is in the temple with him continues to approach, his words falling of deaf ears. If this really was a member of the flock, why are they hiding in the dark and beneath the pews? Why not just march up to him and apprehend him? What if this isn't a member of the flock at all?

Ratau raises his walking stick in his defense, leaning against the stand behind him to keep his weight off his left leg. Something potentially dangerous was in the temple and with no sign of Lamby anywhere inside, he fears that something might have hurt them without anyone noticing. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so cautious stepping inside, maybe he should start raising hell to get someone’s attention from outside. Maybe…

He feels something brush up against his foot. Looking down, he catches sight of something dark and snake-like before there’s a blur of movement and a pressure around his throat.

Ratau stumbles back, dropping his walking stick in shock and falling to the floor as something coils around his neck. He squeezes his eye closed from the pain of hitting the floor, but when he opens it again, he’s left paralyzed as he finds a burning red eye staring back at him. He stares up at it in complete shock, petrified as it stares down at him, unblinking.

Whispers fill his head, too quiet and numerous to make out anything cohesive. Despite not being able to discern a single word from the voices flooding his ears, his mind somehow manages to draw meaning out of it. This thing recognized him? The pressure around his throat eases, the eye staring him down backs away and blinks slowly at him. It takes a moment for his terror to give way, but once it does, the jumbled nonsense in his head suddenly makes sense.

He thought that eye looked familiar! This… This was the Red Crown!

Unwrapping itself from around his neck, the strange wriggling mass that the crown had become suddenly leaves him, slithering across the floor and leaving Ratau to gasp for breath. What the hell happened to it? Where was Lamby? Was it acting out all on its own? Ratau grabs hold of his walking stick and tries his best to push himself back to his feet. Once he’s up, he looks around and finds the strange serpent staring at him from the dark, its bright red eye swaying slightly side to side. More whispery nonsense fills Ratau’s head, but once again, he’s somehow able to pull meaning from the jumbled voices.

It wants him to follow.

“Are you taking me to Lamby?” Ratau asks with a shuddery breath. The crown does not respond, it remains in place, waiting for him to follow. With no other lead to follow and with curiosity getting the better of him, Ratau steps forward, hissing slightly with pain as the fall he took earlier irritates his leg. Once he makes a move to follow the crown, it turns and begins to slowly slither towards the back of the temple.

The light from the windows does not reach this far, but the crown keeps its eye trained on him, allowing him to follow it through the darkness. It leads him to the very back of the temple, and to his surprise, there is a small stairway leading down to some sort of basement. The stairs are tricky to navigate in the dark, especially with his bum leg, but at the bottom of the stairway, Ratau sees a dim light illuminating the room below.

Content that he’d make it the rest of the way himself, the Red Crown slithers down the stairs in a hurry, leaving Ratau behind. He doesn’t pick up his pace in fear that doing so will cause him to trip, but he continues to follow, hoping it’s waiting for him in the other room. Making it to the bottom and taking a moment to catch his breath, Ratau steps forward into the room waiting for him only to be stunned by what he finds.

This basement floor seems to be where Lamby’s own personal quarters lie, but the place is a complete mess. Blood and the same mysterious black substance that was leaking out of the shrine outside stains the thick rugs that carpet the floor and lying in the center of the room is the young lamb. They look to be in pain, curled up on the ground and crying. Tears fell from their eyes and more black gunk stained their lips. Their face is scarred, their wool is shaggy and dirty, and they look scarily thin. In their hand is a flogging whip.

One look at the red staining the wool on their back is enough to nearly break Ratau’s heart.

“Lamby!” Ratau stumbles forward, his urgency momentarily overpowering common sense as he all but forgets about his bum leg. He trips himself up on the rugs, landing on his hands and knees which instantly stain with the blood and muck, but he quickly crawls through it to get to the poor kid. Lamby opens their eyes at the sound of their name and they look up at him just as he pulls them up into a hug. He holds the kid tight, pulling the whip out of their hands and tossing it aside.

He just holds them for a while, trying to get his breathing in order and trying to make sense of what the hell they were doing down here. What could have driven them to do this?! What is all this stuff he’s sitting in? What-

“I’m sorry…” They sob into his chest, their body trembling weakly against him. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s ok.” Ratau tells them breathlessly, trying to convince himself of the fact as well as Lamby. “Everything’s going to be ok, Lamby. I’m here for you.”

“I didn’t mean too…” Lamby’s whole body wracked with sobs. “I didn’t-”

“It’s ok.” Ratau repeats, a little firmer this time. There was a lot going on, but none of that mattered right now. What mattered was there was a scared, crying child in his arms and he needed to make things all better. He rocks them back and forth, he pets his hand through their wool, and he repeats himself over and over, hammering it home for the poor kid. “It’s ok, Lamby.”

Looking up from the kid and the mess they’ve made, Ratau finds the coiled form of the Red Crown watching from a distance. He glares at it, silently demanding answers for what’s going on and why it was allowing its host to do this to themself. Once again, voices fill his head, but this time, one word cuts through the jumble and he can hear it clearly.

”Absolution.”

That one word didn’t seem like much to go off of, but looking down at the state that Lamby’s in and what’s going on outside, he starts to put the pieces together. The holy days calling everyone out of work, the destroyed pillories and gallows, the self inflicted wounds and the whip. Lamby was punishing themself, trying to absolve themself of some terrible sin they believe they committed.

Ratau can’t deny that he’s seen some troubling things, but the mere fact that it bothered them, that they realized that they might be doing something wrong, was enough for him to know there was still plenty of good in them. They wanted to better themselves, but this wasn’t the way to go about it. He continues to leer at the crown, furious that it would just sit back and let this happen, that The One Who Waits would not stop them and offer them guidance, but seemingly at the mention of the lord, the crown’s eye dilates, glaring right back at him. For once, the message he receives from it is crystal clear.

”Do not speak of him!”

Ratau flinches, taken aback by the vitriol that fills his ears, and his reaction earns Lamby’s attention. They look back and a single glance at the serpent across the room causes it to quickly slither across the floor and return to them, becoming a crown once more as it rests on their head. The moment it does, it closes its eye, going still on their head as Lamby continues to shudder against Ratau.

“I’m sorry…” Lamby repeats once more. It was like it was the only two words they knew how to say anymore.

“It’s ok.” Ratau gives them the same two word response, continuing to squeeze them tight. “Just tell me what’s wrong, Lamby. I know I’m an old geezer who’s not good for much, but I’ll try my best.” His words don’t have the effect that he wanted them to have as he only makes the kid cry harder against his chest.

“I’m so stupid!” Lamby whines, shaking their head. “How could I let any of this happen?”

“Don’t beat yourself up, kid.” Ratau pleads. “I made dumb mistakes too, especially regarding that fox. You’re better at making hard choices than I am, but even you’re bound to-”

“Everyone trusted me…” Lamby gasps between sobs. “They thought I was helping them but all I was doing was telling them to worship a lying bastard! I thought I was better… I thought…”

Ratau is left confused by their words. “Who are you talking about?” He asks. Ratoo made the observation that everyone here seemed to be worshiping Lamby over The One Who Waits, but surely they weren’t talking about themself like that, were they?

Lamby looks up at him, tears streaming down their face. Ratau can’t remember the last time he’s seen Lamby cry, let alone this hard. “He doesn’t love us…” They whimper, choking on the words. “He laughed at you… He thinks you’re dead and he’s glad.”

Ratau feels his heart go completely still. “Who…?” There’s only one possible person they could be talking about, but what they’re saying is so horrible, so terrifying that he cannot accept it. Lamby leaves no room for doubt though.

“He congratulated me for my ruthlessness and for getting rid of dead weight.” They tell him, reaching up and taking hold of his scarf. “He praised me for finding a use for you after he thought you had become useless. I’m… I’m so scared of what he might do when I can’t help him anymore…”

Ratau sits completely petrified. His blood felt like ice in his veins, his mouth felt as dry as a desert, he feels his hands and feet go numb with shock. He didn’t want to believe a word of this, his first instinct was to tell Lamby that they were wrong, that they were lying. The One Who Waits gave him his blessing and called upon him to care for the next crown bearer. He was still loved, but… Why would Lamby lie about such a thing? Something was going on here, but Lamby risked their own life to save him, they wouldn’t do that just to tell him such a terrible lie right to his face.

Ratau looks up at the crown, hoping that maybe it could elucidate him, but its eye remains closed. It closed when Lamby last visited, worried that the lord might be lying to them. It was ignoring him, trying to keep him hidden away.

Ratau feels his breath hitch and tears stream down his face. How long… How long has he dedicated himself to the lord? How many prayers has he made to a god that does not care for him? Bile starts to rise up his throat as he realizes how cruel the actions committed against him were, how awful it was to be forced to kill his old man, how Lamby was forced to do the same…

And Ratau pushed Lamby to follow in his footsteps. They came to him expressing doubt and worry and he told them there was nothing to fear because the lord would never betray them…

“Is…” Ratau feels sick as he opens his mouth. “Is this all my fault?”

Hearing that, Lamby pulls away from him, looking up at him with tear blurred eyes. “You’re…” They sniffle. “You’re not…” They turn away, looking unsure of themself. Ratau is almost scared to get a proper response from the kid, horrified by the possibility that they might come to the same conclusion as he did and realize that it’s because of him that they’re in this deep. “No.” Lamby eventually comes to a conclusion. “You’re… You were just another pawn like me.”

They both sit there, tears streaming down their faces. Ratau feels as if his entire world has been irreparably shattered. Everything he worked for, all the years he persisted, all the care he put into bringing up Lamby… All of it was for nothing?

“What’s going on?” Ratau looks at Lamby. “What do we do?! I… I don’t…”

Lamby’s hands rest on his shoulders. They look terrified themself, but they force a strong face for him. “I’m gonna fix it.” They tell him. “I don’t know how, I don’t even know if I can do anything, but… I’m gonna do better. Be better. I…” Their tough face breaks down, terror and grief flooding back in. “I have to… Everything will go away if I don’t try.”

“Just…” Ratau takes a deep breath and tries to shake the numbness out of his hands. “Deep breaths, kid. Come on, sit up. Tell me what’s going on. I… I’m not sure if I can do anything to help, but I’m not going to just sit here while you break down like this. Tell me everything, no holds barred.”

“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.” They whine, trying to pull away from him, but he stays strong.

“Lamby, you’re built of tougher stuff than me, but you can’t lean on your own shoulder to cry on.” Ratau tells them. “Tell your old man what’s wrong. Lending an ear is what old geezers like me are good for and… It sounds like there’s a lot on your mind.”

Helping Lamby off the floor and struggling to get himself standing again, Ratau walks Lamby over to the bed in their chambers, setting them down before leaning against the mattress himself to try and get comfortable. He feels like he might be here a while.

It’s a good thing he sits himself down.

Lamby goes on and on in an endless ramble, drowning in their tears as they try to make sense of what’s going on. The One Who Waits, Narinder, was not as innocent and blameless as either of them thought. He was sealed away for everyone’s safety as the paradise that he planned to bring about with the New Faith, the complete reversal and abolishment of death, would bring about untold chaos and disrupt the natural order. The bishops were far from innocent, but just as everyone had warned Ratau growing up, Narinder was cut from the same cloth and was no better than his siblings.

In Ratau’s absence, Narinder pushed Lamby to commit more and more heinous acts, sacrificing followers by the dozens and violently dispatching all those who spoke out against their cruelty. The pillories outside were used often, and those who were taken to the gallows were left to hang for days as an example to those who were locked away. Everyone worked ludicrous hours and were forced to work past their breaking points, but Narinder fed Lamby more and more lies to make it all seem ok in their eyes and told them what to say to brainwash everyone else into thinking the same way.

Lamby had already given away three of their own followers to the fox before he asked for Ratau, so blinded they were in their pursuit of power and their loyalty to Narinder

It wasn’t until Shamura made them question their loyalty that they realized any of what they were doing was wrong. Once they confirmed for themself that Narinder was a liar, that his ambitions were destructive and that they were just a tool to break him out, they became so much worse. They were about ready to tear the entire world apart themself, but they were swayed at the last possible second.

“I couldn’t kill you.” Lamby takes a moment to catch their breath, sucking in shuddery gasps as they wipe their eyes. ”You’re like a father to me.”

“Feeling’s mutual, kiddo.” Ratau tells them.

They both share the first smiles they’ve worn in a while now.

Ever since what happened with the fox, after hearing Narinder howl with laughter at Ratau’s suspected demise, Lamby’s done everything they could to cut ties with the lord. They let everyone in the pillory’s go and sent them away where they’d be safe before destroying the whole block. They told everyone to stop working, unable to ask them to do anymore after how many people worked themselves to the bone to meet their impossibly high standards.

Aside from their followers who are still brainwashed into thinking their horrific actions have been righteous and just, Lamby has been down here, repenting for the terrible things they’ve done. The self flagellation was not done purely out of self hatred and disgust however, it served a very real and tangible purpose. Blood was not the only thing they have drawn from themself over the long week they’ve been up to this.

They have been expelling themself of sin, feeding it to the crown.

“What the hell has gotten into that thing?” Ratau asks, cautiously staring up at the accessory on their head. “The damn thing nearly killed me when I walked in here.”

Ratau watches as the crown’s eye opens and it loses its form. The headpiece practically melts over Lamby’s head before solidifying into that strange serpent that he saw upstairs. It coils itself around Lamby’s neck, resting on their shoulders as it stares at him with its single red eye. More unintelligible whispers fill Ratau’s head as it tries to speak with him, but they’re silenced when Lamby reaches a hand up and gently pets it.

“It’s my friend.” Lamby says, continuing to cuddle with the nasty thing. “No matter what happened, no matter how terrible I became, it was always at my side, always helping me, always giving me advice. I don’t think it likes Narinder either.”

“Could it always do that?” Ratau asks, reaching a hand out to it. “Does it remember when I used to wear it?” The eye follows his hand as he reaches out to it, but the moment he gets close enough, it leaps from Lamby’s shoulders and coils around his arm. He fights every instinct in his body to fling it at a wall or rip it from his arm as it slowly crawls up it, staring at him the whole time. It’s still incredibly hard to parse through anything it was trying to convey to him, but looking down into its eye, he’s suddenly reminded of countless old memories from when he was young. His first conversations with it, questioning if it was alive, the chats he had during the long nights of his crusades. It remembers, and while he isn’t sure if it’s just his feelings messing with the memories, he thinks it also remembers those moments quite fondly.

“I think it likes you too.” Lamby says, reaching out and grabbing hold of it. It quickly wriggles out of their grasp, running up their arm until it’s rested around their shoulders again. “As… scary as it is, I want to keep feeding it. I’d be dead if it weren’t for this little guy and… I need to be strong enough to face whatever comes next.”

“What comes next?” Ratau asks. “What are we even doing anymore? If we can’t trust the lord, who do we turn to? The remaining bishops?”

“There’s only one more.” Lamby shakes their head. “Shamura has already promised to make my life hell and nothing I could do now would undo the deaths of the rest of their siblings. Shamura has to go, but… I don’t think I’m stopping there.”

“What are you suggesting?” Ratau asks, though he already suspects what they’re going to say.

“Shamura continues to spout that same prophecy, warning that a lamb would reduce five to none.” Lamby says. “I always thought the fifth was Narinder who had already been taken out of the picture, leaving only the four bishops remaining, but no. There’s one more bishop I will have to take care of after Shamura is gone.”

“You’re going to kill him?!” Ratau asks with horror. “You’re going to kill death itself?!”

Lamby lowers their head. “I don’t know.” They mumble. “I don’t know if I’ll need to go that far. I don’t know if it’s even possible to stand up to him, but… The world that he will create won’t be any better than the world we have now, if there’s a world left at all. I have to do something to try and stop him. I’ve been surprising everyone with how good of a job I’m doing, so… Maybe I’ve got what it takes to challenge him.” Looking up, they turn to face Ratau. “Am I making the right choice?”

“I’m sorry kid.” Ratau sighs. “I haven’t got a damn clue. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but… I believe in you, no matter what you decide.”

“Even after I almost fed your soul to an evil fox demon?” Lamby asks.

“You’re all I have left to believe in.” Ratau says. “If the other gods have forsaken me, I’ll gladly support you instead.” Reaching up to his head where his paper crown rests, Ratau grabs it and tosses it aside. “The gods are selfish monsters with love for no one. You aren’t.”

“I learned it from you.” Lamby says with a smile.

Ratau suspects that there’s more truth to that statement than he originally thought.

“I should address my flock.” Lamby says, sitting themself up from the bed as the Red Crown returns to their head. “Something’s got them all afraid.”

“That’d be Ratoo’s doing.” Ratau nods, stepping forward to help them up. “Are you sure you’re alright? You still look hurt.”

“Physical pain is temporary. It will heal.” Lamby assures him, stepping towards their wardrobe to change into a fleece that isn’t stained red and black. “I just hope I can help heal the damage I’ve done to others, though for many, I’m far too late.” Quickly shedding their soiled clothes, they change themself into fresh garments, though their wool is still stained and their face still scarred. “There is so much I still have to do to set things right. So many sins to atone for.”

“You’re not planning on hurting yourself again, are you?” Ratau asks with alarm, looking down at the whip lying on the stained rugs in the center of the room.

“No.” Lamby tells him. “Punishing myself won’t do me any more good. I have my followers to look after and rules to change. It will be difficult for me to undo all of the conditioning and brainwashing Narinder forced me to commit to, but I refuse to hurt them anymore.” Looking back at him once they’re presentable, Lamby rests their eyes on Ratau. “Will you stay with me and offer guidance once more? I-”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lamby.” Ratau nods, stepping forward and wrapping them into a hug. “I can’t leave you alone with that monster in chains. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when you needed it most, but I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Lamby leans into his hug. Their crown rests against Ratau’s chest and he swears he can feel it rumble against him as if it were purring. “Thank you…”

Today has been the most terrifying and heartbreaking day in Ratau’s life. Learning that his lord was a spiteful monster, seeing just how far Lamby had fallen into self hatred and doubt, knowing that they had mistakenly hurt so many people they were supposed to protect. He was horrified out of his mind, but so was Lamby. They weren’t a lamb anymore, they’ve grown so much and while a lot of that growth was tainted as they were fed lies and brainwashed just as their followers were, that innocent little kid was still in there, praying that things would get better, desperate for the love they never got growing up.

It was Ratau that helped them decide they needed to change. It was Ratau that gave them the resolve to fight the gods. It was Ratau who offered them the love they needed when Narinder tried to mold them into a weapon.

Ratau was weak, frail, and he certainly wasn’t the brightest, but the gift his elder praised him for all those years ago still held strong. His kindness was his gift to the world…

And it just might save it.

Chapter Text

Today was going to be the day.

Marching through the Silk Cradle, Lamby’s heart feels heavy as their holy mission is drawing to a close. Shamura is waiting for them, they’re done running. Their temple is not far, and once they fall, the last of Narinder’s chains will be broken.

Lamby doesn’t know what will happen then, what their lord will do, what will become of them. All they know is they must be strong in the face of whatever comes next.

Lamby isn’t sure where they’re going to find that strength though.

They have purged themself of impurities, cutting themself off from the crown’s power and expelling sin from their mortal body. Scars still linger on their back, a constant reminder of their crimes so they may never fall back into darkness. Their sin, the evil in their body, nourished the crown and gave it a considerable amount of strength, but would it be enough to help them stand up to the god of death? Sacrifices may still need to be made, and while Lamby would never force anyone into it now, they aren’t sure if they could go through with someone willingly offering themselves either. Were they really willing if they came to the decision because of the lies they fed them?

The gods were selfish monsters who took their powers from others. Ratau tried to gain strength by sacrificing parts of himself, but it cost him almost everything. The world truly was cruel, but they would fight to their last breath to ensure this cruelty is never repeated.

The Silk Cradle is unnaturally quiet and empty as they make their way to the grand cathedral in the distance. They ran into some trouble early on in the crusade when they first arrived, but for the past few hours, they’ve found nothing. No campsites or shrines where cultists are gathered, no nests where the beasts hatch from, nothing. They had a clear shot right to the temple.

Maybe Shamura was confident that they could beat them. Maybe they had laid out a trap that they were walking right into. Maybe Shamura knew that resistance was pointless and was done sending people to their deaths trying to stop them. Whatever the reason, Lamby didn’t like it. It left them with no distractions from the rising anxiety boiling within them.

What will happen to their flock when Narinder is released? What will happen to Ratau when the lord realizes he’s still alive? How long would everyone have before Narinder’s ambition destroyed the world?

Before dread has a chance to consume them completely, the light twinkling of golden stars catches their eye. Banking off the path towards the temple in the distance were the tell tale celestial trinkets that signaled the presence of the fortune teller. It’s been a while since they’ve seen Clauneck and… They should probably apologize for being so rude and untrusting towards him in their anger. Stepping off the path, they make their way to the divine bird’s camp, eager to get a small boost in power to prepare them for the battle ahead.

Entering a small clearing, Lamby finds Clauneck sat in his tent, his cards laid out and ready to take. Lamby does not reach for the cards immediately like they used to though. Sitting down and crossing their legs, they rest for a moment to speak with the old bird. “Hello Clauneck.” They greet him.

“Little lamb.” Clauneck bows his head in greeting, a slight smirk forming on his beak. “It has been some time since we last spoke. I trust you are in higher spirits?”

“Not exactly…” Lamby sighs. “I did a lot of stupid things. Hurt a lot of people and pushed even more away. I’m trying to do better now, but… There’s a lot I have to answer for.”

“I am aware.” Clauneck nods, letting out a low hum. “The cards foretold it long ago. Your life will always be rife with conflict and anger, though for the latter, you have managed to reign it in. Did you enjoy your gift?”

“My gift?” Lamby raises a brow. It takes them a moment, but they’re eventually able to recall the cards they drew with the fortune teller when they first met. The very first card they drew promised gifts in their future. Since then, they have been showered in luxury, but only one gift truly changed the course of their life. At the mere thought of it, the crown on their head lifts from their brow and Lamby reaches up just as it drops said gift from its void. Grabbing hold of it, Lamby looks down at the wooden statuette Ratau had carved when he was a young man, a toy for a scared little lamb just like them. “I did.” Lamby nods. “I will always cherish it.”

“He may have thought his life was purposeless, but fate is not directionless.” Clauneck muses. “It bound itself to him for a reason. He was not fit to wear a crown, but he was always destined for godly work. It pleases me to know that he has finally found his place in the grand scheme of things. You, however, still have a long way to go.”

“I just don’t know how long I have left…” Lamby grumbles before glancing down at the cards. “You said fate told you about me ages ago, right? Can the cards tell me what awaits me in my future? Can they tell me if I even have a future?”

Clauneck furrows his brows. “The bearer of the Red Crown fears for their own mortality?” He chortles at that, shaking his head. “I suppose I forgot. Though you possess divine strength, you are still very young.”

“Well don’t make fun of me for being scared!” Lamby pouts. “What does that have to do with anything anyways? I’m about to go into the most dangerous fights of my life! Of course I’m scared.”

“Gods, even the short lived ones, live far longer than mortal minds can even comprehend.” Clauneck tells them. “Do not worry about how much time you have left. You have plenty.”

While he wouldn’t tell them outright what the future held, his assurances that they would persist eases the worry in Lamby’s heart. Things were still uncertain, they were still scared of what might happen to their friends and flock, but they would keep going, they would keep fighting to make the world better.

Clauneck gestures towards the deck of cards before him and Lamby reaches forward to draw. Resting their fingers on the top of the deck, Lamby feels a slight tingle run up their hand. Something was different about this card. It somehow felt more potent, more powerful. Drawing it from the deck, they turn it over and find it is a blessing for divine strength. The Red Crown wastes no time plucking it from their hands, consuming it and absorbing its power.

Lamby rises to continue on their journey, but they’re taken aback somewhat when they notice that Clauneck is still here. “Are you not going to go now?” They ask him.

“You look like you could use some company.” Clauneck says with a smile. “The minutes passing by mean nothing to immortal beings such as us. You gods are always so tireless and ambitious. Take a moment to rest, you may not get another chance.”

Lamby sits back down, grateful for the excuse to avoid the horrors that await them for just a little while longer. “Thank you.” Lamby tells Clauneck. “And, I’m sorry if I was rude to you over the last year. I was in a bad place.”

“I have always enjoyed your company.” Clauneck tells them. “I do not receive many visitors, let alone those who are willing to sit down and keep me company. There was only one other in recent memory who was as courteous as you. The cards tell me I am to see him again one day, and I have you to thank for that.”

Lamby smiles at that and allows themself to relax on the rug laid out for them. They have been very busy and while their short time cut off from the crown’s power allowed them to sleep again, all of those nights were restless and painful. Protected by the crown once more and in the company of someone they feel safe around, Lamby closes their eyes and lowers their head. They never tire physically, but mentally they are exhausted.

”Sleep.”

”I will allow none to disturb you.”

Comforted by the gentle voices in their head, Lamby suddenly finds themself lost in a sea of blackness as consciousness slips away from them.

“E-excuse me?”

Lamby stirs, their body aching slightly as they’re roused from their sleep. They struggle to open their eyes, but when they do, their heart skips a beat when they find a spear point inches away from their neck. They are awake and alert in seconds and from their position where they’re still sat on the ground, they glance around at the incredibly dangerous situation they find themself in.

Clauneck had vanished at some point in their sleep, leaving them to sleep on the grass, but in his place, there had to be about two dozen zealots all armed to the teeth. That was only the number that Lamby could count in front of them though, they could hear even more behind them. They thought the crown would protect them or at the very least wake them before they became surrounded, but it only takes a couple of seconds to realize that no one is doing anything.

Everyone surrounding them looks terrified, including the cultists holding them up at spear point.

“S-Shamura requests your audience, h-heretic.” He stammers, his spear shaking in his grip. “Rise to your feet now or… um…”

Instinct demands that Lamby draw their blade, that they rip these foul heretics asunder for daring to get in their way. They can already see limbs flying and blood spilling in their mind's eye, but taking a deep breath, they try to quell those thoughts.

“Sorry.” Lamby groans, stretching themself out before pushing themself off the grass. Everyone takes several steps back as they move. Every single one of them are armed but none dare take a swing at them. “I was on my way, but I got a little distracted.” They glance around at everyone, taking a proper headcount and sizing everyone up. A few weeks ago, they would have been delighted to see a crowd this big. It would have been a perfect test of their skills. Now though, they just see their flock, an army of scared, aimless people looking to be led and taken care of by something bigger than themselves. “You just want me to follow you?” Lamby asks them.

“Yes.” The closest cultist nods. “Please.”

Once they’re stretched out and they wipe their fleece off, they nod their head. “Lead the way.” Lamby tells them, waiting patiently to be guided towards the remaining bishop. They see no reason to hurt these people. After Shamura is gone, they’ll hopefully disband and scatter, going on to live normal lives untainted by the gods.

Everyone around them visibly relaxes. None of them want a fight either. They only serve their lord because they believe they have to. They will be doing everyone here a favor when their tyrant of a god is slain tonight.

It’s a long, tense, and awkward walk. They are forced to march in the center of the large crowd, surrounded on all sides by sharp points and blades. Some tried to look tough and intimidating to insure they didn’t do anything stupid, others were visibly tense and terrified, so sure that Lamby would hurt them at any second. They keep their pace and their head forward. No one needed to get hurt here.

It was actually kind of nice having company while exploring the Silk Cradle. Everyone here clearly knew their way around, taking Lamby down pathways they would have otherwise missed or avoided. They weren’t much for conversation though, everyone was far too anxious to speak.

Shamura’s temple comes into view, its massive doors held wide open for them. The group escorting Lamby starts to thin out as everyone disperses, leaving only a couple to walk beside them as they climb the steps to the front doors. Once at the top, the remaining zealots run off, their duty done. Taking a deep breath, Lamby walks inside, bracing themself for their final confrontation.

Shamura’s temple, while much larger than their siblings’, was not as luxurious or decorated. Lamby paid no mind to the grandness of the structure though, they kept their face forward as they tried to manage their racing thoughts and heart. They crack their knuckles, they roll their shoulders, they stretch out the last of the aches from their nap.

The Old Faith ends tonight.

Stepping into a large atrium in the center of the temple, they meet with the remaining bishop. Shamura’s eyes follow them as they move, they are focused and lucid, their mind completely unclouded. They do not look angry or scared. They look tired.

“Five becomes… nothing.” They tell Lamby. “Nothing at all. For millennia, the fates have granted me visions, but they all stop at you. Everything stops at you. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Lamby nods. They have listened to their warnings, read through the lord’s grimoire top to bottom. Even the Red Crown warns of the calamity that will befall the world should Narinder go free. “The Old Faith will die with you and nothing will come after it. There will be no New Faith.”

“So you have accepted your role then.” Shamura closes their eyes. “You have become the harbinger of the end times.”

“No.” Lamby tells them. “I’m here to end you. I’m here to wipe the slate clean and to free the world from you terrible gods. All of them, Narinder included. Only I will remain, a peaceful ruler, a benevolent one.”

Shamura opens their eyes again to glare at Lamby. “You? Do you believe we were crowned with the intention of ruining the world? You are still a foolish child. Even the lord you serve used his power to improve the world, not knowing he was daming us all. You will be no different. Your ideals will be corrupted with time, just like his.”

“So you expect me to just accept the world as it is?” Lamby asks. “A world where the whims and fears of gods can lead to the deaths of an entire people? Where everyone lives in fear of your cults and the only escape is to join them? If that’s what the world is supposed to be like, then I’m doing everyone a favor by destroying it, but I have to at least try to make it a better place. Besides, I have your whole twisted family as prime examples of what not to do. I won’t make the same mistakes you have!”

Shamura shakes their head, but to Lamby’s surprise, they see a smirk form on their lips. “For the sake of the world, I pray that you are right.” They tell Lamby. “Should you bring about the end of everything, I take comfort in knowing that you at least tried to right the countless wrongs my siblings and I left in our wake.”

With a deep breath, Shamura suddenly rises.

Lamby thought they were already massive, towering several feet taller than them, but Lamby watches in muted shock as several spindly legs unfold themselves from beneath Shamura’s robes. Each appendage is sharpened to a lethal point and stained red with the blood of countless victims. Standing straight, Shamura now stands twice as tall as they usually did. Two blade-like arms reach out from their robes and Shamura grinds them together with enough force to shower the ground in front of them with sparks..

“Fate dictates that I am to die here, but I will not lie down and accept death. I owe it to my siblings who have fallen, for the countless sacrifices made in my name, and on my birthright as the god of war. Little lamb, chosen liberator, harbinger of the end… If you truly believe you have the strength to change the world for the better, show me. Prove to me you are strong enough to be a god!”

With blinding speed, Shamura lunges forward, their massive hulking body moving so fast that their movement alone nearly throws Lamby backwards from the displaced air. Lamby does not allow themself to fall back though, watching as Shamura’s razor sharp blades swing to slash through the air behind them.

Lamby instead plants their feet and throws themself towards the bishop, leaving their blades to cut through empty air as Lamby slips past their defenses. Keeping their momentum, Lamby raises their hands up and the Red Crown rushes to arm them, taking the form of a massive hammer. Lunging forward with all their might, Lamby brings the hammer down hard against one of Shamura’s six legs, cringing as they hear bones crunch from the impact.

Lamby cries out as Shamura stomps around in retaliation and one of their large legs stabs into Lamby’s shin. The crown leaves their hands as they hop on one leg, throwing themself to safety as Shamura tries to impale them with their many spear-like appendages.

Throwing themself clear of the massive god, they find they can already stand on both legs again. The crown was quick to heal their wounds. Even typically fatal blows could be endured with how powerful its healing abilities have become, but against a foe this massive and dangerous, the Red Crown can quickly become overworked.

Lamby spins around, readying their hammer to swing on Shamura, but they’re shocked to find nothing behind them. They look side to side, wondering how they could have possibly lost a monster so large, only for them to notice a shadow pass overhead.

Lamby throws themself to the side again just as Shamura comes crashing down in the spot where they once stood. Lamby is thrown with the impact, hurdling through the air before they crash into the walls of the temple. They hit the ground hard, but quickly push back to their feet to keep moving. The beasts in the woods outside could pull a similar trick, using their webs to swing around the branches and attack from above, but it was hard to believe a monster so large could lift themself up that quickly.

Shamura is already upon them again, giving them no room to breathe or recover. Blades swing down at them and Lamby throws their arms up to defend themself, the Red Crown forming gauntlets over their hands to better brace them for the attack. Shamura’s swing connects, but the Red Crown thankfully prevents their blades from cleaving Lamby in two. Instead, the impact reverberates up the lambs arms, setting their whole nervous system on fire as they feel something crack in their forearms.

Shamura was way too fast. The other bishops were ruthless and powerful, but Shamura worked with an efficiency Lamby had never had to defend against before. War was their domain. Lamby had a few years of experience and plenty of training from the disciples of death, Shamura has been waging war for millenia. Their entire body was a weapon. Every limb was sharp enough to rend flesh, their venom was potent enough to melt Lamby’s insides, and their webs were strong enough to bind even the mightiest of warriors.

Lamby does not give up though.

Even as they feel their flesh get cut open, their bones break, their organs rupture, they keep fighting. Shamura shows the same amount of resolve, continuing to fight even as their spindly legs are shattered under Lamby’s hammer and their sword spills Shamura’s guts from their abdomen. Neither side gives in, even as the temple begins to fall apart around them.

The pain becomes too much. The Red Crown struggles to keep Lamby’s heart pumping as blood and ichor spill from them at an alarming rate. They can barely stand, their legs threatening to give out at any second to leave them completely vulnerable to Shamura’s wrath. They don’t even know if they have enough strength to carry a sword anymore.

Shamura looks no better. They’re forced to use their bladed arms to prop themself up as their broken legs can no longer hold their weight. The temple floor is flooded almost ankle deep with ichor as it spills from their body in a constant stream from the hundreds of cuts and breaks littering their body.

They both stare at each other, trying to find the strength to keep fighting. Lamby tries to take a step forward, their legs wobbling with the effort. They lose their balance and they fall to their knees, the Red Crown quickly rushing to their hands to form a sword so Lamby can use it as a crutch to keep them upright. Shamura tries to push themself forward to match Lamby’s efforts, their arms straining as they try to lift their own weight.

Something snaps in Shamura’s arms and they collapse onto the floor, their body going limp as the fight leaves their body. They’ve lost.

Lamby can hardly believe it. They were so sure that the bishop of war would make mincemeat out of them, but they just barely managed to squeak out a win. They were afraid that they lacked the necessary strength, that they would have to find some alternative means of feeding the crown or even resort back to sacrifice to grow stronger, but they had just enough resolve to survive the grueling battle.

Shamura lies motionless, their breaths growing shallower as Lamby forces themself to rise to their feet and approach them despite their injuries. They needed Shamura’s heart. Feeding that to the crown, Lamby prays that will be enough for them to survive whatever Narinder has in store for them. They shamble towards the dying god at a snail's pace, their feet splashing in the spilled ichor until they’re face to face with the god. Taking a deep breath, Lamby raises their sword, ready to finish the job, when Shamura speaks.

“Lamb…” They croak, ichor spilling from their lips. Despite the state they’re in, their eyes still remain focused as they lie on Lamby. “May I ask… a favor…”

“A favor?” Lamby asks, the blade growing heavy in their grip.

“Won’t the god of death… Hear my last… Dying wish?” Shamura heaves, choking on the blood filling their throat. Lamby stands motionless for a moment, unsure of what to do. Looking up at the sword in their hand, they watch as the crown’s eye closes.

”Listen.”

”Grant them this last respect.”

Lamby lowers their sword and takes a knee beside the dying god. “What is it?”

Shamura closes their eyes and a hint of a smile forms on their lips. “When you… inevitably turn against… my brother. Please… show him mercy.” Shamura shudders, their breath rattling in their throat. “Your betrayal… will hurt too much. Please… Don’t let him suffer long.”

“I won’t.” Lamby nods. “I promise.”

“Thank you…” Shamura sighs, exhaling their last breath. “Lamby… God of Death…”

“Rest well, Shamura.” Lamby tells them, raising their sword once more.

With one final swing, the Old Faith is no more.

Lamby marches through the afterlife with a heavy heart, still soaked to the bone with blood and ichor as the magic of this place takes away their pain and heals their wounds. They’re forced to step over the broken remains of chains that litter the path. The skyline seems eerily empty now without them. The absence of chains would have once pleased them, but knowing what will happen when the lord finally breaks free, they only feel dread seeing how close the lord was to freedom.

They follow the sound of laughter and rattling chains until the fog parts and Narinder is revealed to them. Lamby takes a knee to bow, but they are surprised when they see Aym and Baal bow to them first.

“You have done well, lamb.” Narinder praises Lamby, leaning in real close and wearing a mile wide grin. A few chains still cling to him, but he’s able to move much more freely now. “The bishops are no more. The Old Faith is nothing but a few desperate zealots trying to fan a fire which is burning out. Nothing stands in my way anymore.” Narinder starts to laugh once more, overjoyed to see his plan finally come to fruition, though there’s one thing still obviously holding him back.

“What about the chains around you now?” Lamby asks. “Can you not break those?”

Narinder lifts his hands up and pulls the chains wrapped around his wrists taut. “Not yet.” He shakes his head. “The magic binding these chains to me still exists, but just as you have broken the rest of my chains, you will break these as well.” Lowering his hands, Narinder straightens himself out and peers down at Lamby. “You have but one more task, lamb. With my chains broken, the path to my old temple is clear. To undo the spell that binds me, one last ritual must be performed. Enter the temple and bring your most devout and loyal, and the New Faith will be born.”

“We’ll finally get to go free!” Baal speaks up, and for once, Narinder does not turn on him to silence him. “We will finally get to see the world!”

“I commend you for your strength, lamb.” Aym nods his head, wearing the first genuine smile Lamby has ever seen on them. “Tales of your battles will be told for millennia. You are a true warrior.”

“Tell me.” Narinder asks, still wearing a wide smile. “What were those traitor’s last words? Did they beg for mercy? Forgiveness? Did they waste their breath cursing my name?”

He was clueless. The Red Crown successfully hid its gaze from him. Shamura’s last request rested solely with Lamby, and they intended to keep it that way. The lord lied to them, so they lie back.

“They made excuses.” Lamby says, feeding into Narinder’s own beliefs. “They tried to explain that what they did was necessary, that you had to be put away. I silenced them, there was no point in listening to them justify their horrible actions.”

“Good…” Narinder lets out a pleasant hum. “Good riddance. How ironic that the god of wisdom and war would make the foolish decision of challenging me!” Narinder laughs to himself again, pleased with Lamby’s work. They don’t know how they didn’t see the red flags sooner. As monstrous as they were, the bishops were still his family.

Even Shamura shared how much their betrayal hurt. How much they still cared for their little brother. Aym and Baal were given to him as gifts to ensure he wouldn’t spend his eternity alone, so caring Shamura was for the brother they were forced to lock away.

Narinder showed no such love for his siblings. He reveled in their suffering.

“Spread word of my coming.” Narinder commands them. “Gather your flock and spread word far and wide. When you are ready, when you have amassed your most loyal, break down the boarded up doors to my temple and we will begin the ritual.”

“And what happens after that?” Lamby asks, knowing that once the lord is free, they will no longer be useful.

They watch as Narinder’s smile fades and their expression goes flat. “You need not worry.” He says calmly after a long pause. “This final ritual will be the last thing I ask of you.”

Lamby does not allow fear or anger to show on their face as they bow. “Very well, my lord.” Lamby says, matching Narinder’s cold and selective tone to hide their true feelings. “I will return soon. There’s much work to be done before I can gather my flock for this final ritual. I ask that you remain patient for a little bit longer before you are freed.”

“Make haste.” Narinder says with a smirk. “I eagerly await your next visit.”

Lamby dreads their next visit.

Bowing to their lord, they leave the afterlife to return home to their flock to prepare for the final ritual. They pray that when they next visit, their stay won’t be permanent.

As much as Ratau wasn’t a fan of the constant noise and hustle of the village, he deeply missed having constant company. He spent a majority of his unnaturally long life all alone in his shack in the woods with nothing but the oppressive silence and the few visitors he had to keep him company. He wanted to leave it behind, to explore the world, to surround himself with people again, and while this village was a bit much for him to handle at times, it was such a relief to be back here.

It was also nice to get back to work.

Ever since he got back, he and Lamby have been trying to make sweeping changes around the village. For many, especially the converted zealots that Lamby rescued from the other cults, they were too rooted into their faith for them to make any major changes or to abolish worship entirely, but thankfully they had a workaround. While Lamby’s goal to tie their image to the religion started innocently, it bloated into an almost obscenely narcissistic display, but that could be worked to their benefit.

Lamby was much more deserving of Worship of Narinder anyways. All they had to do was tweak some words in the scriptures and sermons and The One Who Waits was all but absent in any talk of the upcoming New Faith. Lamby was the lord, no one else.

As for the doctrine and the daily life of the village, sweeping change needed to be made there too. People had to return to work, but up until now, people worked themselves down to the bone. Narinder’s teachings had led Lamby to tell their followers that there was glory through toil, that their lives were to be dedicated to tireless work to earn their peaceful rest in death. It would take a lot of time and convincing to change everyone’s habits and beliefs, but for now, Ratau had a quick solution.

“Sit your ass down!” Ratau shouts at a pig carrying far too much lumber to the chopping block. “You aren’t going to be able to serve anyone with a broken back! Take it easy!” All most people needed was a voice of authority to tell them it was alright to rest.

Upon his arrival, Ratau had been made into Lamby’s first and only disciple. The new robes were nice and comfortable, but as Lamby’s disciple, it was his duty to assist them in watching over the flock. It’s been a while since he was put in a position of authority like this, but just like when the village was first founded, he found he took to the job naturally. All he had to do was take care of these guys, though with how brainwashed many of them were, he sometimes had to apply a bit of tough love to set people straight.

“I’m afraid I could not perform my duties today, Ratau.” Someone new approaches him, clearly coming down with something. “Please, put me in the stocks so that I may atone for this crime.”

“What are your duties?” Ratau asks, shaking his head.

“I was to-”

“Shut up, new job for you.” Ratau interrupts. “Go to sleep. You’re barely holding yourself up. You know how to take care of yourself, right? Visit the doctor, get something for those sniffles, and stop with this talk of the stocks. Your lord destroyed them for a reason.”

“A-alright.” They nod their head. “Thank you, Ratau.”

Ratau watches as the sickly follower wanders off to the medical tent for aid. He swears, if he weren’t around to talk sense into these people, they wouldn’t even wipe their own asses without first consulting with Lamby. None of these people knew how to think or act for themselves, afraid that by doing so they’d somehow commit some grave sin or anger their lord.

It was going to take a long time to undo the damage that Lamby had accidentally done to these people, but when they next return…

A commotion from deeper within the village earns his attention. It sounds like Lamby may have come home. Thank the lord… er, Lamby.

Leaning hard on his walking stick, he joins the others as everyone quickly converges to the front of the village. Sure enough, Lamby waits at the top of the stairs overlooking the clearing, their hands held high over their head. In their hands is the still beating heart of the final bishop, carved from their chest and taken as a trophy. Many cheer, but a few are left in a stunned silence, Ratau being among them.

Shamura was dead, and along with them, so was the Old Faith.

It was sights like this that made Ratau believe that it was pointless to try and tear down the shrines and stop worship all together. Lamby truly was a powerful lord worthy of worship as they have taken down the tyrants who ruled the world with an iron fist. Seeing the heart of Shamura in their hands, many cannot help but bow in reverence to the little lord.

“Ratau?” Marching up to him, Lamby approaches Ratau, storing the heretical heart away beneath their fleece. “I have something I wish to speak to you about in private. Will you join me within the temple?” Despite their incredible accomplishment, their smile looks forced. They were trying to keep appearances up for their following, but something was clearly wrong.

“Should I fetch Ratoo?” Ratau asks. “If it’s something serious, he-”

“No, just you please.”

Ratau’s heart sinks, but he gives Lamby a nod and a smile. “Just give me a minute to finish up some work around here. I need to make sure everyone’s behaving themselves before I step inside.”

“Thank you.” For a few seconds, Lamby’s smile looks a little less forced. “The next time you see your brother, tell him I plan on helping him very soon. There’s a few things I want to get done before…” Lamby leaves their words unfinished before they start to make their way to the temple. “I’ll tell you when you’re ready.”

On the way to the temple, they are swarmed by their following, begging for blessings and bowing down at their feet to praise them. They stop every once in a while to address them, but they move quickly towards the temple, desperate to get some privacy.

Ratau follows quickly behind them, convincing everyone around them to back off.

“Come one everyone, no need to trample over each other.” Ratau says, trying to get everyone to disperse. “Lamby always celebrates after something like this, but they’ve just returned home. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to them, but leave them be for now, alright?” His words seem to do the trick as some followers go to return to their duties. Most instead turn their attention to the shrine to worship in the absence of Lamby themself. That would do. After a grueling battle against the bishop of war, the gathered devotion within will heal and nourish them.

Ratau spends a good ten minutes patrolling around the village before they follow after Lamby to make sure no one’s doing anything stupid. The pig from earlier is hauling reasonable loads now as he works and already looks considerably less stressed out. There’s still a few people here and there who push themselves, but Ratau has been persistent enough that some of those he’s already yelled at are now telling their friends to ease up too before the old man comes to demand they relax.

Among those relaxing are Ratoo. He has not gone into much detail of what his time was like lost in Anchordeep, but he has taken well to being around others again after being alone for so long. He gave everyone quite the scare with his stunt when they arrived and Lamby waking him up had some unintended consequences. Everyone thought that Lamby had brought him back from the dead with a single touch and blessed him with life once more. It technically wasn’t out of Lamby’s wheelhouse to raise the dead, but Ratau couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous to see Lamby get the praise for the miracle he worked over eighty years ago.

Ratoo is laid out in the grass, sunbathing and attempting to tan to hide the deathly pale tone his fur had acquired over the years. He lies completely still and lifeless and as Ratau approaches him, he can already see there are several people giving him a wide berth and whispering to each other wondering if he’s alright.

“You finally croak on me or are you napping?” Ratau asks him, nudging Ratoo’s foot slightly. Seeing the empty cavity in his chest, Ratau was almost tempted to poke at the empty space with his walking stick but Ratoo quickly kicks at him and grumbles at his prodding.

“You’re supposed to bother everyone else, not me.” Ratoo whines, slowly rolling himself over so he’s mostly face down in the grass. “What was the commotion earlier? Did something happen?”

“The Old Faith has been reduced to nothing.” Ratau tells his brother. “Lamby has returned home victorious from their crusade. The last of the four bishops are dead.”

Ratoo remains still for a moment, but he eventually turns to look up at Ratau. “Is that true?”

“They showed me Shamura’s heart.” Ratau nods. “The bishops we grew up fearing are gone.”

There is a long stretch of silence between them as they allow the news to settle in. All the pain, two centuries between the two of them of constant fear and worry over the agents of the Old Faith. It was all over now.

“What happens next?” Ratoo asks, pushing himself from the ground.

“I’m not sure.” Ratau shrugs. “I suspect that’s what Lamby wants to discuss with me. The One Who Waits has no one left to hold him. They say they want to wrap things up before what happens next and mentioned you specifically.”

“Are they going to find her?” Ratoo asks, his hand reaching to the empty space in his chest where his heart should be.

“I know they will.” Ratau nods. “They have accomplished so much. Finding your missing heart should be a cake walk. I will leave you to your nap now. If I have good news to share, I will return. If not…”

“You can share it with me.” Ratoo says, lowering himself back down to the ground. “I find that I appreciate even the painful emotions now, or at least what little I can feel of them. If sharing what burdens your mind helps, I will gladly lend you an ear.”

“Thank you.” Ratau hums, giving everyone nearby one more look over before turning his back to head for the temple. “And leave a sign out for these people or something so they know you’re alright. You’re scaring everyone.”

“They worship the god of death.” Ratoo argues, sprawling out on the grass again. “They should be used to the sight of a corpse.”

Ratau shakes his head, but he can’t stop himself from smirking as he makes his way to the temple. Letting himself inside, he finds it is empty save for Lamby who waits for him on the stand. They skim through the lord’s grimoire which rests on the lectern in front of them, only looking up from it once Ratau gets close. Closing the book, they glance upward at their crown and it closes its eye, signifying that it is hiding their conversation.

“There is only one last thing holding Narinder in chains.” Lamby announces. “There is one last ritual that must be performed, one that will require my most devout followers to join me in his temple. He was of course cagey when I asked what it would entail. All he said is that it would be the last thing he ever asked of me.”

“Hmm…” Ratau hums grimly. “That doesn’t sound good. Are we going to leave him where he is? When is he expecting you?”

“Despite the crown’s efforts, it cannot fully cut its connection to him.” Lamby explains. “He will draw me back eventually, there is no avoiding this final meeting. I am giving myself a week to try and prepare my flock for whatever might happen and to wrap up some unfinished business.”

“And then?” Ratau asks. “Will you set him free?”

Lamby closes their eyes and lets out a low sigh. “I want to believe that the lord I dedicated so much of myself to has good in him. Countless years ago, he was in my position, someone coming to terms with their powers as a crown bearer, trying to make sense of the world and change it for the better. I want to believe I can reason with him, to make amends and work something out to ensure the world stays safe. If he doesn’t accept that, if this ritual goes how I fear it will… Then I will grant Shamura’s dying wish and end him as quickly as I can to spare him the pain of being betrayed once again.”

“They did say that you’d reduce five to none.” Ratau mumbles “I suppose that includes Narinder. You’re only personally responsible for four now.” He looks up at Lamby with worry. “Are you strong enough to take him? He’s been imprisoned for years, but… It took the combined strength of all the other bishops to contain him.”

“I don’t know…” Lamby sighs. “Shamura’s heart will fatten the crown up, but I don’t know if it will be enough. Neither of us want Narinder to return to power though. All that’s left to do is pray that his time in chains weakened him and that he isn’t any stronger than Shamura was.”

Taking a moment to think of what he could do to help, Ratau clasps his hands together and bows to Lamby. “I’ll pray for you.” He says. “We all will. None of these prayers are for him, he isn’t feeding off any of our devotion. Faith alone does not feed the crown as much as sacrifice does, but I believe in you, Lamby. That has to count for something.”

“Thanks…” Lamby breaks into a smile, a real one this time. “I must prepare a sermon now. The crown grows impatient and wants to feast. Gather everyone up in half an hour while I light this place up.”

“The Red Crown is growing impatient?” Ratau raises a brow. “Isn’t that a bit ironic considering it used to serve The One Who-”

The eye of the Red Crown peeks open just a bit to glare at Ratau. It did not find his attempt at humor funny. In his few interactions with the crown, he finds that the thing seems to hold quite a bit of contempt towards its old master. He supposes it makes sense, the lord had a habit of burning bridges with the people closest to him. Not even his own crown liked him.

Ratau turns to leave the temple and start gathering the flock up for the sermon when Lamby calls out to him. “Later tonight before you leave for bed, I want you to find your brother and join me at the summoning circle. There’s something I want to try. I think I know a way to fix him.”

“I was hoping to get some good news to share with him.” Ratau lights up, picking up his pace. “I told him you’d work something out. Here you are, already answering our prayers.”

Stepping out of the temple, Ratau quickly returns to his brother to share the good news before resuming his duties. After giving Lamby some time to prepare, he returns to the temple to ring the bell hanging from its tallest spire, summoning everyone inside for the first sermon they’ve had in a week. The once empty and echoey church fills almost shoulder to shoulder with the lamb’s flock, sitting themselves down on the pews or falling to their knees when there’s no more seats. As Lamby’s disciple, Ratau joins them on the stand as they address their following and share the incredible news.

The Old Faith is no more and the beginning of the New Faith is upon them. With the sacrifice of Shamura’s heart, the crown grows ever stronger before being showered in the devotion of Lamby’s followers. They would celebrate all week. Dances around the bonfire, grand feasts every day. Everyone’s faith was to be rewarded to prepare them all to ascend the forbidden staircase and enter the old temple on the hill beyond the crown’s shrine.

As everyone cheers, excited at the prospect of an entire week of partying and celebration, Ratau remains focused on Lamby. He can see pain and worry in their expression. He can’t help but feel the same. He did something similar, all those years ago. The grand feasts, the long hours of gaming, the tearful goodbyes through the smiles.

Lamby was terrified that Narinder was going to do something to their flock and they wanted to make sure their last days were good ones.

He prays that they’re wrong, that they are worrying over nothing. And… if they’re right… if this final ritual is as dangerous as they both fear…

Lamby turns to look at him, the crown sharing his prayers with them.

He trusts that they’ll be alright under their care. Ratau wasn’t strong enough to save Karacyth, but Lamby was strong enough to save him.

They wouldn’t let harm come to their flock, even if it meant slaying the lord they once served.

“What is this place?”

The sun has long since set and both of the brothers yawn as they try to remain awake for whatever Lamby has planned for them.

“This is a summoning circle.” Ratau explains to his brother, looking down at the pentagrams drawn in the dirt and the carvings in the stones surrounding the circles. “I’ve only ever read about them in Narinder’s grimoire and never seen one myself, but with the proper rituals, someone can offer their body and soul to give a physical form to a demon. Lamby says that they once used their followers as hosts to surround themself with demonic spirits to assist them in battle. They stopped doing it though, it’s a painful and draining experience.”

“Then why do they have us gathered here?” Ratoo asks. “They aren’t expecting me to sit in one of these circles, are they?”

“They would not willingly bring harm to you, no.” Ratau shakes his head. “Though, I’m not sure what they could be planning.”

They aren’t left wondering for long as they are finally joined by Lamby, but they are surprised when they find there’s someone else with them. Marching up to them, Lamby carefully leads a hooded figure towards the summoning circle.

“Who’s this?” Ratau asks, trying to get a good look at who’s hiding underneath a hood. Looking up at him, the stranger pulls back their hood and Ratau finds a familiar face hiding beneath it.

“Hello, old friend.” It was Amdusias! With how large the village had become, it was difficult to keep track of the sheer amount of people who lived here, but it was good to see that there were still some familiar faces around here.

“Amdusias! It’s been years!” Ratau steps forward to pull his old friend into a hug. “I feel like an ass for not noticing you until now.”

“It’s such a delight to see you again and in good health.” Amdusias replies. “I’m glad I got to speak to you again before I left.”

“Before you left?” Ratau raises a brow, letting him go to look him over. “Where are you going?”

“To the otherside again.” Amdusias tells Ratau, catching him off guard. He looks up to Lamby for an explanation.

“I believe I know where Ratoo’s heart is and how to retrieve it.” They announce. “Unfortunately, it is not simply lying around somewhere for us to find. A sacrifice must be made to draw it here.”

“I thought you said you were done forcing people into this.” Ratoo is quick to argue, but to everyone’s surprise, it’s Amdusias who speaks up.

“This is my choice.” He says, looking over the summoning circle. “I have been here for a long time. So long that Lamby even considered making me one of their disciples. I am not blind to the things that happened here, to the scars on Lamby’s body and their guilt, but from the very start, I knew they cared. Even at their worst, they were never cruel for cruelties sake like the old bishops. Everything served a purpose, every one of us carried them closer to their goal of ushering in the New Faith. I have worked hard, I have devoted myself wholly to them. I wish to give my life to them, to allow my strength to join the countless others who shared their power to get them this far, but I quite like what they have suggested instead.”

“And what’s that?” Ratau asks, still waiting for Lamby to explain what was going on.

“As much as I need to be strong for what comes next, I want you both to be happy before the final ritual.” Lamby says, stepping forward and resting a hand on Amdusias’ back. “Rather than sacrificing himself to the crown, he will sacrifice himself to return Ratoo’s heart.”

“Ratau is to thank for my life in equal measure to the lamb.” Amdusias bows. “I have given Lord Lamby everything, but I wish to show my thanks to you too. All I have to give is my life before I earn my rest, and if I can offer your brother peace and happiness, I will gladly lay down my life for him.”

Ratoo stares at Amdusias in shock. “I don’t even know who you are!” He boggles, though he notably does not tell him off or try to talk him out of it. There was a desperate look in his eye. He wanted… needed to get his heart back.

“Lord Lamby knew me as an enemy when we first met.” Amdusias explains. “Anyone else would have killed me, but Lamby not only spared me, but gave me a home and brought me into a community where I no longer felt fear. I no longer feared going hungry, I no longer feared my own brothers and sisters in the flock, and I no longer feared death. Lord Lamby showed not just a complete stranger, but their enemy kindness. I wish to follow in their example, to know that I left the world a better place. Not to please a lord, not to be a cog in some grand scheme, but to help others.”

There is a moment of silence between everyone as Amdusias’ words settle in. When the moment passes, Ratau steps in and hugs his old pal again.

“I wouldn’t want to go out any other way.” He says with a chuckle.

“Once again, it’s something I learned from you.” Lamby says from behind Amdusias. “Seeing you charge into a fight you couldn’t win to try and rescue Tana the night I was crowned, I stepped in to help you and saved both your lives. With all the terrible things I was taught to share with my flock, I never would have thought the first lesson I learned from you would also be passed on.”

“So…” Ratau continues to hold Amdusias tight. “This is goodbye?”

“This isn’t my first time.” He nods. “Well, both with the summoning circle and dying. It isn’t pleasant, but I was overjoyed when I learned that I could assist the lord in battle, even if only indirectly. Lord Lamby promised that once I go under, my death will be painless, unlike my first.”

“It will be like falling asleep.” Lamby tells him. “When you next wake, you will be in the comforting fog of the afterlife once more.”

“Will I see Tana there?” Amdusias asks, the barest hint of doubt in his voice.

“You came back for him, I’m sure he’s waiting for you on the other side.” Lamby nods.

With a deep breath and a smile, Amdusias steps onto one of the summoning circles, kneeling down and bowing his head. Ratau and Ratoo both take a couple of steps back as Lamby steps forward and rests their hand on Amdusias’ head. They mutter something under their breath, reciting something in a tongue Ratau can’t understand but clearly the crown does. Rising from their head, it hovers over Amdusias, and in a brilliant flash of light, the man tenses and lets out a suppressed cry of pain.

His eyes shoot open and his mouth opens wide in a silent scream before something rises from it.

Ratau watches in horror and fascination as Amdusias collapses onto the ground and from his body, a strange creature emerges. It pulses with rage and drips blood on the unconscious host beneath it as it tries to float away, but it’s held in place by the Red Crown’s power. It looked hideous. It gnashed its teeth and glared at everyone around it with bulging, bloodshot eyes that glowed in the dark.

Ratau was too afraid to aproach, afraid that it might bite him if he got too close, but Ratoo has no such reservations. Stepping forward without a word, he simply reaches out and grabs hold of the strange creature, causing it to cry out in anger. It turns to look at him, hissing and biting at the air, but after a second, it pauses. Ratau opens his mouth to ask what the hell his brother was thinking just grabbing a demon out of the air, but seeing the expression on his face, his words die in his throat. After a couple of seconds, the demon in Ratoo’s hands seems to wear the same exact expression he does.

“Hathor…?”

Ratau thought that behind the monstrous visage that it kind of looked like a heart, but hearing his brother say that name with so much certainty, there wasn’t any room for doubt. That thing, that demon, wasn’t just Ratoo’s heart, but his lover too. His mind was flooded with so many questions. What the hell happened to her?! Was this why Ratoo didn’t get his heart back when he was revived? Did she willingly go through with this, or was this forced upon her by the Old Faith, and if so, by whom?

None of those questions make it out as Ratoo bursts into tears of joy. Holding the demonic heart close, he holds it over the empty cavity in his chest. It’s a little large compared to what a normal heart should look like, but it fits snugly into his chest cavity, beating gently behind his ribs. The once furious, rage filled face the heart wore calms down considerably, closing its eyes and turning its fanged mouth up into a smile.

The moment it’s in place, Ratoo falls to his knees, balling his eyes out and crying loud enough for the sound to echo throughout the clearing. Ratau cannot tell if they’re cries of joy or complete agony, but he rushes to his brother’s aid regardless.

“Ratoo?!” He kneels down by his brother, trying to prop him up. “Ratoo, are you ok?! Is it hurting you?!”

“It hurts…” Ratoo struggles to suck in air. “But it feels so good to have her back! I…” He reaches his hand up to wipe at his eye, a laugh slipping out between his sobs. “I can feel again! I… I grieve for Hathor who has lost so much and who cost me so much, and yet…” Another laugh. “I have never felt so much joy to be reunited with her!” He breaks out into a fit of laughter which is quickly drowned again in tears.

Ratau has not seen him act like this in almost a century. Ever since he came back, the lack of a beating heart had drained so much life out of him. He could still smile, he could still feel down, but Ratau could not remember a time when Ratoo laughed or cried so hard. He could feel again, the highs, the lows, everything.

Looking up at Lamby, Ratau finds them kneeling over the unconscious body of Amdusias. His chest still rises, but only barely. He is completely unresponsive, his lifeforce being responsible for giving Hathor a physical form. Without it, he’d remain here, unable to move, unable to do anything, slowly withering away before time eventually takes him.

Kneeling down beside him, Lamby takes both of his hands and rests them on his chest. They rest their hand over his, mouthing a silent thank you for his sacrifice, before pressing down. Ratau hears something within the selfless follower crack, and just like that, his chest stops rising. Lamby rises to their feet with a somber expression on their scarred face.

“I pray I will not disturb his peace when I next return to the afterlife.” Lamby says, turning to face the rat brothers. Despite this being what Amdusias wanted, despite it allowing Ratoo to live a happy and fulfilling life again, they appear conflicted. They open their mouth, but Ratau answers their question before they can even ask.

“You did good, Lamby.” Ratau assures them. “You did good.”

Even now, Lord Lamby, god of death, still needs reassurance from someone they trust when times are tough.

Ratau’s never been more happy to offer them a shoulder to lean on.

Chapter Text

Through all the festivities, through all the celebrations and sermons, Ratau felt dread building up within his heart. It was hard to celebrate and be merry when his immediate future was so uncertain. That’s why Lamby was holding all these feasts and parties, it was just in case they didn’t make it out of the next ritual alive. It reminded him far too much of his last moments with Karacyth, desperately trying to enjoy himself with the food and drink but unable to ignore the inevitable tragedy on the horizon.

The only thing that brought him any true comfort over the past week was Amdusias’ funeral.

It wasn’t something Lamby used to do. Even with the unsustainable working conditions the village had, a good deal of effort was put in to make sure everyone was healthy and fit to work. Those who did die were either sacrificed or punished, leaving either no body at all, or a corpse that had to be disposed of quickly. There was a tomb in the farthest corner of the village, but for what Amdusias did, it felt like a disservice to simply toss him in with the others.

Narinder had no care for the people he hurt along the way to get what he wanted, but Lamby knew how precious a life was and how painful a loss could be. Baal spent quite some time teaching them manners and respect, but the lord was not the only one who deserved it. The dead did too. The morning after his sacrifice, the funeral was held and he was buried out back. As he was lowered into the dirt, Lamby shared his last words with the rest of their flock.

He left the world a better place than when he came to it. If everyone were to live and die by his example, the world would be a much safer place. Ratau isn’t sure if he’s done all that much good in his life considering he served under a monster and got his best friend killed, but every time he saw Lamby’s smile, that doubt went away.

When the week ended, when a considerable amount of their food was eaten through and all the drinks acquired through Lamby’s crusades were emptied, there was nothing left to distract them. The One Who Waits grows impatient. Throughout the celebrations, Lamby came and went, wrapping up their unfinished business and helping people in and outside of the village. All last night, they remained in the village, stewing in silence while the rest of their flock partied. There was nothing left to do but see the lord.

Wandering the grounds in the early morning, Ratau finds Lamby staring up at the shrine made in their image, a grim look on their face. Ratau joins their side, taking a deep breath as he tries to find words to comfort them.

“I’m scared too.” He eventually says, looking over at the kid.

“I shouldn’t be.” Lamby sighs. “I need to be strong for everyone here. I don’t want them to see me like this.”

“Lamby…” Ratau sighs. He’s had to yell at plenty of people all week for their own good, it was time he sat Lamby down too. “I know you wear the crown, I know you’re a god killer, I know you’re essentially a god yourself, but you’re still a kid.”

Lamby pouts at that. “I’m not a kid.”

Ratau can’t help but let out a suppressed snort of laughter. “I thought the same thing back in the day.” He sighs wistfully. “Sure, you’re taller than I am and much more mature than you were when I first met you, but you’re still incredibly young. You were robbed of your childhood, first by the bishops who took everything from you, then by Narinder who fed you lies and made you into a monster. Everyone looks up to you for your power and grand achievements, but I think everyone forgets that five years ago, you were a clueless little kid. No offense of course, I was too. You shouldn’t have to hide it though. You’re plenty strong as is, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be scared.” Lamby takes a deep breath, letting their mask slip a little bit. “You don’t gotta face it alone though.” Ratau reminds them. “What’s on your mind, Lamby?”

“I don’t want to bring any of you with, even though Narinder demands it.” Lamby says. “I need to though, even the Red Crown says so. I won’t be able to even reach him unless I bring enough people, my most trusted and devout, my best friends. I’m already scared of what Narinder might do to me, but I’m terrified of what he’ll do to all of you if I bring you along.”

“Yeah…” Ratau grumbles. “I’m worried too. Think of it this way though. This whole village worships you because they were once afraid of death. While our lord may be a liar, we know for a fact that peace awaits us when we die. We’ve been there, Ratoo’s been there, and Amdusias longed to return there. I’d hate to say goodbye, but even if the worst happens, I’ll at least get to see some old friends again.”

“It’s not going to come to that.” Lamby says, clenching their fists. “I will do everything in my power to ensure you’re all safe.”

“With how much power you have, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Ratau assures them. “Narinder would have to be stupid to try messing with you, and… Well, actually…”

“He’s dumb enough to almost end the world.” Lamby growls. “He’s definitely stupid enough to try something.” Ratau lets out a low sigh. He really isn’t sure what else he could say to try and make what’s coming up any easier on them. They were going to have to face and potentially release the lord who turned them into a monster. Nothing is going to ease the fear completely.

“You’ll pull through.” Ratau tells Lamby, offering the only assurance he can. “You’ve taken on four bishops and dismantled an entire religion. What’s one more?”

Lamby tries to force a smile, but it doesn’t last. They’re still scared, and it tears Ratau apart to see them like this. Years later, they’re still just a kid cowering in fear of the wrath of angry gods.

A light cough causes both Ratau and Lamby to jolt slightly before turning around. A smile is plastered on Lamby’s face again, desperate to hide their doubt and fear from whoever’s approaching.

There’s no need to hide though, it’s just Ratoo.

“You two are up early.” He observes, looking quite tired himself. “I thought you’d want to sleep in for the big day today.”

“I have no need for sleep and Ratau’s always been an early riser.” Lamby shrugs. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“I tried.” Ratoo sighs and Ratau notices the distinct smell of alcohol on him. He remains bare chested, allowing everyone to see the heart which was returned to him, but his fur and pants are damp with spilled drink. “Everything just goes right through me. I’m sure now that I’m whole again I can fix myself up or have you help me, but for now, I’m just happy to feel a heartbeat in my chest again.”

“And I’m happy to see you so lively.” Ratau smiles, stepping forward and holding out his arms. Ratoo steps in to the offered hug and wraps his arms around his little brother. His skin was no longer cold and lifeless. Ratau felt warm and safe in his brother’s embrace. Seeing his brother so happy and finally able to live a normal life again, Ratau is suddenly struck with a terrible realization. “Lamby? Who are you going to bring with you?”

Lamby seems to catch on immediately to his worries. “The lord wants my most devout and faithful. You are coming along of course, as are most of the converts I rescued who desire to serve the lord. I feel twenty should be an appropriate number for whatever ritual he has in store. Your brother likely won’t need to come along. I’d feel better about leaving someone responsible in charge of this place, just in case.”

“Just in case?” Ratoo asks, pulling away from Ratau to look at Lamby.

“I don’t know what we’ll be marching into or what might become of this place if something bad happens to us.” Lamby says, glancing around to make sure there’s no sensitive ears that might overhear them. “If the absolute worst should happen, I’m trusting you to try and keep the peace here. Ratau once told me that you used to lead the old village that he built up before he lost the crown. You certainly left an impression on these people, I’m sure they’d listen to you.”

“I didn’t do a good job with the last village.” Ratoo says with a dour tone. “There’s a reason this place was a ruin when you found it.”

“If the worst comes to pass, I don’t really think it matters who’s left in charge…” Lamby lets out a shuddery sigh. This was really getting to them. “I’m going to try my best to keep that from happening though. Your brother will come back home to you, I promise.”

“I pray you’re right.” Ratoo tells them, resting his hand over his heart. “I think I’ve spent most of the past week grieving for everyone I’ve lost over the years but lacked the heart to care about. If I lost my baby brother…”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Ratau assures his brother, tapping his shoulder with his walking stick. “I don’t wear a crown anymore, but I’m still a tough nut to crack. I won’t go out without a fight, and with Lamby watching over me, I know I’ll make it back home in one piece.”

“I will worry for you regardless as I always have.” Ratoo says. “For the sake of my heart, please come home safe.”

“I will.” Ratau promises before turning to Lamby. “So. When do we head out? We can put this off all day if we want, but trust me, the stress is going to eat you alive until you finally commit.”

“We’ll leave after breakfast and our morning sermon.” Lamby announces, taking notice of a few more early birds stepping out of their homes. “We’ve waited long enough. There’s no point in testing the lord’s patience any further.”

Ratau couldn’t agree more. He’s terrified of what will await him in Narinder’s old temple, but the looming dread of finding out has ruined his entire week. He was either going to come home with nothing to worry about, or die tonight.

Either way, he won’t be worrying anymore.

“Slow down, Lamby! It isn’t a race!” Ratau huffs as he tries to force himself up the stairs. “I know we’ve been keeping him waiting long enough, but he can wait for five more minutes while I catch my breath!”

Beyond the old shrine of the crown was the chained up door leading to Narinder’s temple. At least, that was how he remembered it. In the years that Lamby has been crusading, the chains have slowly been undone, and with the death of the bishops the door was left completely unobstructed. There was a short climb of stairs to open the door, but beyond that was an even bigger stretch of steps that made Ratau’s leg ache just looking at it.

“We’re already halfway there!” The followers behind him cheer him on, offering him a helping hand to get him up the rest of the way. “We don’t want to have Lord Lamby explore the forbidden temple all alone. Just a bit more!”

With the help of Lamby’s flock, they make the rest of the trip a little less strenuous for Ratau. His leg is still giving him problems, but he prays that it will sort itself out soon. If he makes it out of this alive, he still wants to see the world. It’s going to be hard to travel with a bum leg.

Lamby leads the charge, already several steps ahead and nearing the top of the stairway. Ratau can see that they’re tensed, their sword arm hanging at the ready just in case something ambushes them. Under normal circumstances, he doubts they would be this cautious, but with almost two dozen members of their flock climbing up the stairs behind them, they’re hyper vigilant of any potential threats.

Ratau pushes himself to pick up his pace despite the pain in his leg, not wanting to drag out their worry.

Making it to the top of the stairs where Lamby waits, all that’s left is a short path leading into the main hall of the temple. Everyone huddles together, all of them but the leader and their disciple filled with excitement and wonder. When they all finally enter the main hall, Ratau is left a bit confused.

He had only ever explored small temples devoted to Leshy in his youth, though even the smallest of holy sites were filled with monuments in their lord's honor. Grand statues, flags bearing the insignia of the Green Crown, and a treasury filled to the brim with gold and other luxuries. Stepping into Narinder’s temple, it’s an empty room, devoid of decorations, statues, everything. The only thing inside the temple was a small pool of water with a ritual circle placed in the center.

Marching up to the circle, Lamby places themself in its center before turning to address their flock.

“I have visited the afterlife many times during my long and grueling crusades.” They announce. “Never have I visited in my physical body, however. As my body mended, my soul wandered the fog, but with your help, I will enter the god of death’s domain in my physical form. Just as you helped me open the doors to the lands ruled by the Old Faith, you will help grant me access to the other side.”

“Is…” Someone within the crowd speaks up. “Is that all?”

“Will we be coming with you?”

“Why do you need to go there physically?”

Lamby could not answer questions, and when they failed to explain anything, everyone turned to Ratau instead. “I sure hope this is all that’s expected of us.” He shrugs. “Getting back down the stairs won’t be much of a hassle, but I’d like some time to sit down and catch my breath.”

“Gather around, everyone.” Lamby commands. “Form a circle and take each other’s hands. All you must do is pray for my safe passage.”

While some question why this was necessary and what Lamby’s business in the afterlife was, everyone gathers up to do as they wish without hesitation. They trusted their lord. Two of the followers lag behind to help Ratau along, taking pressure off his leg and walking him towards the forming circle to join it. Once everyone is gathered, their feet soaking in the shallow water surrounding the ritual circle. Everyone bows their head and closes their eyes, holding their neighbors’ hands tight. Ratau joins them all, whispering a prayer he knows Lamby will hear.

“Good luck on the other side, Lamby. Come back home to us now, alright?”

He keeps his head bowed, continuing his prayers for a good minute before he opens his eye to peek and see if it worked. Lamby is gone. Eventually, the others around him start to open their eyes as well, looking around to try and find their leader. They left without a trace. With their leader missing, everyone turns to Ratau again for guidance.

“Let’s just take a five minute breather.” He says, trying to calm everyone down. “If anything else is expected of us, we’ll know, if not, we’ll go back home and prepare a celebration for when Lamby returns. I’m sure they’ll be back very soo-”

Before Ratau could lower himself down to take a seat, the water beneath his feet suddenly goes from a shallow pool to a deep chasm. He throws his arms out to try and catch himself, but he’s fully submerged before he even realizes what’s going on. He feels someone kick into his side and straining his eye to see through the water, he finds everyone else has been pulled under too. Ratau tries his best to kick his way to the surface for air, but no matter how hard he fights, he continues to sink deeper and deeper into the dark.

Feeling his chest screaming out for air, consciousness slips away and Ratau falls into the inky depths below.

The air feels colder now than it used to. The damp bone meal beneath their feet clung to their hooves now as they trudged through the afterlife. Their heart still beat in their chest and with every thump, the fog around them clears out. Lamby doesn’t know if the sudden lack of comfort this place offered them was because they were still alive or if it was because of the monster they were about to meet.

Whatever the case, they keep their pace steady and their expression neutral as they march through the bone desert, kicking the broken chains that lie in their path.

”He will want me back.”

”He cannot have me.”

Voices fill Lamby’s head, causing them to look up at the Red Crown. It stares back down at them from over their brow. They know it doesn’t want to go back to Narinder, even though it was granted to him by Chemach. It was to oversee the afterlife, to grant peace to those who died as commanded by the old gods, but it was completely loyal to Narinder and a slave to his whims while worn by him. To undo death, to completely destroy the rules of nature the old gods set out as law, it went against its very nature.

”He cannot have me.”

“I won’t let him.” Lamby promises in a whisper. Not only would they never grant such terrible power to that monster willingly, they refused to separate themself from its power. Without the Red Crown, they were nothing. They needed it and they would fight like hell to make sure they kept it.

“Finally…” Narinder’s words echo through the fog as Lamby continues their approach. “I will be free… Imprisoned in chains for over a millennia, I will roam the earth once more!”

The fog parts and Lamby comes face to face with their lord. In the week they’ve been gone, he’s actually managed to break out of a few more of his chains which now litter the ground around him. Some still hold him down, but Lamby can see the stress on the metal. If given enough time, he’d probably be able to get out, but without Lamby’s help, he’d still be trapped in the afterlife.

Lamby comes to a halt in front of him, though they do not take a knee. They remain standing as they stare up at him, earning a confused and disapproving glare from Aym and Baal.

“What is your last request of me?” Lamby asks, cutting through the drivel and the politeness to get right to the point.

“I ask but two things from you, little lamb.” The lord says, holding out his hands. “I ask for my crown back… and your life.” Lamby remains still. They already suspected the worst, this was no surprise. “With one more grand sacrifice to feed the crown, I will have enough strength to escape my prison and return to the mortal world once more! You have served me well, you have earned your rest. You may now join the rest of your kind here.”

“No.”

The lord and his disciples stare down at them in disbelief. They don’t say a word, they just glare at them, staring daggers into their soul and silently demanding that they change their tone. Lamby stands defiantly, glaring right back up at the lord.

Raising a hand, Narinder flicks one of his fingers and something falls from the endless sea of white above them. Lamby leaps backwards bracing themself as the sound of rattling chains and screams fills the air. Above each of the disciples, two large cages dangle from chains, each one packed with crying and terrified mortals who Lamby immediately recognizes.

Those were their followers!

“I understand…” Narinder speaks in a monotone, hiding his rage behind his calculated words. “You do not wish to rest yet. Luckily for you, your loyal following will be more than enough to free me in your place. Simply return my crown, and you will be free to turn around and live out the rest of your life as a-”

“You big, three eyed bastard!” Someone shouts loud enough to be heard over the cries of the other followers. “After everything we did for you, this is how you repay us?!”

“Ratau?!” Baal, who remained stoic throughout this whole ordeal, suddenly whips around and stares up into the cage above him in shock. “M-my lord! You told me he was dead!”

“Screw you too, you little snots!” Ratau barks out in anger at him and Aym. “You didn’t even try to stop him! I begged to keep the crown and you threw me out just like him! You’re complicit in all of this!”

“What is the meaning of this?!” Even the lord seems shocked to see that Ratau was still alive. “He’s supposed to be dead! How-”

“I have been keeping secrets from you.” Lamby interrupts. “Just as you have kept secrets from me, Narinder.” Uttering that one word causes Narinder to flinch. The stoic façade he tried to wear breaks as he grits his teeth. His disciples look up at him in shock. Despite being his most loyal servants, dedicating their eternal lives to him, this is the first time they’ve ever heard his name.

“Return my crown!” Narinder bellows, pulling against his chains in an attempt to try and reach for them. “Submit to me now and I promise your death will be painless!”

“No.” Lamby repeats, a smile creeping onto their face as that one word makes the lord even more furious. He sounds just like his siblings. “I have done enough for you. I am going to return home with everyone in those cages with my crown. You’re still in chains, I’m the one in power here.”

“After everything I’ve given you!” Narinder screams, yanking against his chains in a fit of rage. His voice cracks with how loud he’s screaming. “Do you think yourself better than a god?! You worthless, miserable little thing?!”

“Do you?”

“Enough!” Baal shouts, ripping the veil from his face and brandishing his weapon. Without the dark veil hiding his features, Lamby can see he looks incredibly upset and conflicted, his eyes darting between Narinder, Lamby, and even Ratau who hangs overhead. He steps forward, readying himself for battle. “I do not know what’s going on, but I am sworn to The One Who Waits. If you are yet another traitor, I will do what I must to protect my lord.”

“Brother…” Aym, surprisingly, seems a bit more hesitant than his typically more reserved brother. His eye darts between all the same people of interest; the old man he once taught, the lamb he praised as a hero only a week ago, and the lord who’s mask has completely slipped as he practically foams at the mouth with rage. “I don’t-”

“KILL IT!” Narinder commands, butchering his voice as he pushes it as far as it can go. “KILL IT NOW!”

Baal, blinded by loyalty for the lord he’s served for centuries, charges into battle.

Lamby’s heart lurches in their chest. Their scorn was for Narinder, not Baal or his brother, but they don’t know any better. Narinder is all they have, they will die for him, even if he lied to them.

Baal raises his spiked staff over his head and brings it down to slam its spiked head into the traitor standing before him, but Lamby effortlessly avoids it. The Red Crown falls to their hands and arms them with a sword which they swing towards Baal in a quick counter attack. The sword cuts into the flesh of his arm, making him hiss in pain as he stumbles back. Aym gasps in shock behind him, rising to his feet and clutching his staff tight.

“Just drop your weapons!” Ratau shouts from his cage, taking a break from trying to calm the rest of the followers trapped with him. “Narinder is not worth dying for! I know you’re smarter than this, Baal!”

“Shut up!” Baal cries out, taking another blind swing at Lamby. “Traitors! All of you! How could you taunt the lord by bringing him this close to freedom just to snatch it away from him?! You’re hurting him! You’re a monster!”

Lamby deflects the blows, backing away with each swing as they try to plot out their next move. They really don’t want to hurt Baal. He was so nice and taught them so much, but they know from experience that their faith would not break easily. The only comfort they have is that since they’re already in the afterlife, striking them down shouldn’t be too painful. They-

“Watch it, Lamby!” Ratau shouts from the cages, pulling them out of their own head long enough to hear rattling chains quickly approaching from behind. Lamby throws themself to the side, watching as a spear tipped chain erupts from the ground where they were standing only moments ago. Lamby has never had a proper one on one spar with Baal, but they’ve heard Aym complain about his fighting style constantly. He played dirty, but Lamby was too quick to fall for his tricks.

Chains tunnel beneath the bone dust beneath them like burrowing worms as Lamby presses the attack. As much as Lamby hated it, they had no choice but to kill Baal. They were a disciple of death and an immortal being here in the afterlife, the brothers maimed each other all the time in their fights. Still, every successful hit eats away at them as Baal cries out in anger and anguish.

Baal taught Lamby everything they knew about deception and curses, and unlike him, they had plenty of practical experience. Chains burst from the sand, but Lamby saw them coming long before they got close. Baal was a capable fighter, but he’s only ever fought his brother in play fights. Pushing through their reservations and finding the strength to commit to their choice, Lamby stops holding back.

Baal makes another wild swing at them, bringing their staff up in an underhanded slash. Jumping up into the air, Lamby kicks their feet down onto the length of the staff, causing it to fall back to the ground and throwing Baal off balance as he tries to keep his grip on it. Lamby lands on top of the staff, jumping off its length before throwing themself forward, their sword held outstretched.

The blade punches through his flesh and slips past his ribs, puncturing the heart in his chest. Lamby quickly twists the blade, destroying as much as they can before ripping the blade free in a spray of red and black. Baal stumbles back, dropping his staff and clutching at his chest as his white robes are stained with his spilled blood. He trips, throwing his arms wide to try and save himself.

Lamby reaches their hand out and catches him.

Taking his hand and slowing his descent, Lamby gently lowers Baal to the ground, lying him down in the sand beneath him. He stares up at them, confusion crossing his expression as he chokes on his own spilled blood.

“I’m sorry.” Lamby whines, feeling genuine sorrow having to hurt one of their few real friends. “I hope you can one day forgive me… Rest in peace, Baal. Enjoy the comfort you granted to countless lost souls.”

Baal tries to fight it, to push himself up and keep going, but something in his expression changes at the last minute. Tears spring forth as he glances up to his lord who watches over the fight. Closing his eyes, Baal draws his last breath, accepting his death, allowing his pain to slip away.

Lamby doesn’t even get the chance to rise back to his feet before they notice the curved, crescent blade atop Aym’s staff hurtling through the air to split them in two.

Calling upon the crown’s power, a powerful blast of energy knocks Aym back, giving Lamby just enough time to scramble to their feet and arm themself before he swings at them again. They clash blades, locking them in place as Aym leers over his weapon down at Lamby.

“You have just made a powerful enemy today, lamb!” He growls through barred teeth. “I thank you. Today, I will finally fulfill my dream of severing the head of traitorous filth in the name of my lord!”

“I’m almost tempted to let you.” Lamby replies. “I’d like to help you fulfill your last dying wish before I have to kill you too. I’m afraid I can’t die now though, not with my friends on the line.”

“Then show me your strength, promised liberator!” Aym practically spits those last words out as if they tasted disgusting to even say. Shoving Lamby back with incredible strength, they stumble backwards as Aym launches into a flurry of attacks, his bladed staff just barely missing them. Aym didn’t have nearly as many tricks up his sleeve as his brother had, but he made up for it in skill and sheer brutality. Aym was no crown bearer, but he certainly had the strength to rival one.

They have already fought countless times though. With every failed crusade, Aym took up a sword and sparred with them to sharpen their skills. They knew his every move, his every strategy. Even though he was fighting for his life, for the safety of his lord, he fell into the same patterns. Even in his sparring matches, he gave it his all, leaving absolutely no surprises to catch Lamby off guard.

Lamby remains patient, carefully blocking and dodging his swings and wearing him out. Despite his incredible strength and endurance, he has his limits. Lamby didn’t.

Aym puts almost all of his strength into his next swing, trying to cleave Lamby’s head off their shoulders. Lamby does not bring their sword up to deflect it and instead calls upon the crown’s curses once more. A concussive blast erupts from the sword in their hand, throwing Aym back a step or two and nearly blowing his staff right out of his hand. He’s left wide open, and all Lamby has to do is step in and thrust.

In the span of a second, Aym goes from a vicious warrior holding his ground against a god, to a dying man in their arms. Lamby rips their blade free, and just as they had with his brother, Lamby gently lowers Aym down to the ground as he bleeds out.

“A clean… kill…” Aym chokes, a smile slowly forming on his bloodied lips. “Taught you well… Shame it was wasted… on a traitor…”

Lamby sighs. “I wish it didn’t have to come to this. If we ever meet again, I’ll let you get me back. Goodbye, Aym. You fought well, you’ve earned your rest.”

Aym builds up just enough strength to spit at them before his head hits the sand and he goes still. Rising up from his side, Lamby stares down at him and his brother lying not far from him. They’ll be back for them. They’ll find a way to make up for this terrible conflict.

All that remains is the lord.

Looking up from the dead brothers, Narinder is curled up, his hands covering his face and his ears pressed flat against his head. Their imprisoned flock remains silent, watching from their cages in shocked silence and awe as Lamby starts to march toward the giant who trapped them.

“Narinder.” Lamby speaks, but Narinder does not look up at them. He curls up even tighter, burying his head in his arms and pulling his remaining chains tight. “I lied to you about Shamura’s dying words as well.” They tell him. “They did not make excuses, they did not beg. They asked me to grant them one final wish in death, and as the bearer of the Red Crown, it was my duty to listen.”

That gets a reaction out of him. Peeking out from behind his hands, Lamby finds his third eye staring down at them with pure rage and grief. Crimson red streams from his eye as he glares down at them with unbridled hatred.

“They knew this was coming.” Lamby tells him. “It’s been foretold in the prophecy since day one. Five becomes four becomes three and so on until there’s nothing. You have to go too. Shamura knew this, but they made one last request that I make your death quick to spare you from the pain of yet another betrayal. Please, accept my mercy. Allow me to fulfill your sibling’s dying wish to take away your pain.”

With every word, Narinder begins to tremble. He strains against his chains as his breathing becomes erratic. Lamby marches up to him, readying their sword. They know he won’t sit still and let this happen, not when freedom was this close. He will bite, scratch, and claw the moment they get close enough, but as long as they-

With a scream loud enough to shake the earth, Narinder lunges for them. Lamby stops just out of his reach, but they’re only allowed half a second of terror when one of the chains bound to his arms snaps against his rage. A bony fist three times bigger than Lamby themself smashes into their body at an almost incomprehensible speed, sending Lamby flying through the air before violently crashing down into the sand.

They can’t move. The crown works to quickly fix them, but they can feel almost every bone in their face has been shattered. They can’t even lift their head and are forced to strain their eyes to look up at Narinder.

He howls with rage, tugging and biting at the last chain holding him in place until it snaps. With both of his hands free, he claws at the chains still wrapped around his chest, tearing into his stained robes in the process as he rips them off. Lamby’s flock panics again as their lord struggles to rise from the ground and Lamby is beyond relieved that Narinder doesn’t turn his rage on them while they’re defenseless and imprisoned.

His rage belongs only to Lamby.

“I WILL FLAY YOU ALIVE!” He screams, his voice breaking under the stress. Tears leak from all three of his eyes as he stomps towards them, dragging chains along the sand behind him. “I WILL SALT EVERY WOUND AND DO TO YOU WHAT I DID TO ALL OF THOSE WORTHLESS TRAITORS! I WILL KILL YOU OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND THE CROWN YOU WEAR WILL BECOME YOUR CURSE! I HATE YOU!”

Lamby pushes to their feet, still struggling to breathe after the devastating blow they took. The crown rushes to arm them as Narinder approaches, but Lamby’s still too disoriented to see the next attack coming. Swinging his arm forward, he’s too far away to punch or claw at them, but the chains that once held him back still cling to his arms. Whipping through the air faster than their eyes can track, Lamby is struck on the side of the head by Narinder’s chains, sending them falling to the ground as they feel their skull crack from the impact.

“YOU WILL NOT BE SHOWN MERCY!” Narinder’s voice rings in Lamby’s head as they struggle to push themself up. “BLEAT ALL YOU LIKE, I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU FEEL A FRACTION OF THE ANGUISH I’VE GONE THROUGH! ONLY THEN WILL I PEEL THE CROWN OFF YOUR SCALP AND GRANT YOU DEATH!”

Lamby sees a shadow cast over them as they try to push to their feet and avoid the blow that’s coming, but they can’t. They uselessly flop back down to the ground, squeezing their eyes shut as they brace for the worst.

The last thing they hear before pain consumes them is Ratau’s screams of horror.

No one even has the strength to cry or scream anymore.

The only reason Ratau was even conscious was because he’s become completely desensitized to the pain. He isn’t even sure if he’s alive or not, whatever terrible magic this plane of existence had refused to let him rest. All he can do is watch.

He wished he could gouge out his other eye to spare him from the horrifying sight before him.

Smoke has turned the fog dark and black and the once white desert of bone ash has been stained red. A good bit of it was his own blood, still leaking from his body at an alarming rate. When Lamby refused to give up, when they kept trying to fight, Narinder turned his wrath on their flock, desperate to hurt them even more than he already did. Ratau and every single one of the followers he was meant to care for were strung up and crucified, forced to watch as the vengeful god continued to brutalize their little lord.

They’re still fighting though.

No matter how many times they’re torn apart, smashed into a pulp, or burned alive, they keep getting back up. Ratau could barely even recognize Lamby anymore. Their eyes burned a fiery red and their body was so mutilated that they looked like a twisted monster only barely being held together by the crown’s power. Early on, they had shouted assurances to their flock that they would be rescued, that they would take their pain away and make everything alright. They were silent now, trying their hardest just to stay alive.

Narinder had somehow become even more monstrous.

Lamby had told him about their battles against the bishops, how they had morphed into terrifying beasts as big as their temples with mouths full of razor sharp teeth. Ratau’s imagination couldn’t do it justice. Actually getting to see the lord he once worshiped twist himself into an eldritch abomination… It hurt to even look at him. His face had peeled apart in strips of flesh which still clung to his skull, each bloody strip lined with teeth and eyeballs. The three eyes that were originally on his face now float freely on the battlefield, leaving behind bloody, empty sockets in their place. He had become so massive and heavy that he was partially sunk into the bloody sand, but even then, he was still too much for Lamby to handle.

All Ratau can do is weakly kick his feet in the air and try to pull his hands free from the nails pinning him to the cross he’s strapped to. As he does, Lamby continues to fight, enduring even more suffering in what Ratau fears might be a pointless attempt to try and save him.

“DON’T THINK ABOUT HANDING THE CROWN OVER NOW!” Narinder bellows, his voice making Ratau’s head pound. “I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU YET! I WILL FORCE YOU TO SUFFER FOR YEARS BEFORE I GRANT YOU DEATH!”

Narinder brings his arm up to try and crush Lamby once more, but in a blur of black and red, Lamby manages to avoid the blow and actually latches onto his arm. They stab at him, wailing away and trying to break his arm and while Narinder does cry out, it isn’t nearly enough. All they’ve managed to do over the… how long has it been? Hours? Days? This has been going on forever but all Lamby could do was get in some light cuts and jabs before-

In the blink of an eye, Lamby was no longer on Narinder’s arm and was instead flying through the air before crashing into the crucifix Ratau was hanging from. The wood cracks, and Ratau finds just enough strength to yelp as the crucifix buckles slightly, leaving him dangling at an uncomfortable angle as Lamby lies motionless beneath him.

“Lamby…” He croaks, trying to get their attention. “Get up Lamby… You can do this! I belie-”

”Dying…”

Ratau blinks, struggling to make sense of the sudden whispers that fill his head. Looking down at the unconscious form of Lamby, the Red Crown on their head looks up at him. Despite being an object, Ratau can tell that its strength is waning. Lamby twitches beneath him, trying their best to push up, but they can’t. The whispers grow louder as the crown continues to stare up at him, desperately trying to share a message with him.

”They can’t do it…”

Ratau squeezes his eye closed. That can’t be right. They’ve fought worse than this, they’ve always picked themselves back up. The Red Crown made them immortal, Narinder didn’t have that luxury anymore. He didn’t have the near limitless power of a crown and was only going off of what he had as a divine being. Lamby can keep fighting and they’ll eventually win this war of attrition. They just have to get back up and-

”They can’t…”

Ratau opens his eye again and finds that through the blood and burnt flesh, through the frightening expression on Lamby’s face, they were crying. They tried to sit up, but they couldn’t. They tried to roll over to their side to push themself up, but they couldn’t. They were completely broken.

They were afraid.

“Lamby!” Ratau doubles his efforts to try and escape, crying out as every single movement sets his body ablaze with blinding pain. He was stuck, no amount of struggling would break him free. His kid was crying and scared, looking up at him for help but he couldn’t do anything! He keeps trying, pulling at the nails in his hands and screaming with the effort.

”You…”

Ratau almost misses the word that enters his head as he continues to push himself, but glancing down at the terrified Lamby beneath him, he finds the crown staring him dead in the eye.

“GET UP!” Ratau cringes as Narinder shouts again, rattling his skull. “GET UP YOU WORTHLESS PUKE! I’M NOT DONE!” Ratau looks up to find the eldritch monstrosity dragging himself closer, leaving a trail of blood and broken chains in his wake as he tries to reach out for Lamby. “DON’T QUIT NOW! KEEP FIGHTING! GET UP AND FIGHT OR I’LL MOVE ON TO THESE USELESS FOOLS AND MAKE YOU WATCH!”

Lamby finally does move, not to push themself up or arm themself, but to curl up into a ball, crying out in pain. It nearly rips Ratau’s heart in two, but despite Lamby’s cries for help, the crown continues to stare up at Ratau, unblinking, unmoving.

It… It wasn’t trying to…

The crown blinks once at him, just as it did years ago to answer his questions.

Ratau nods his head back, desperate to save Lamby, their flock, everyone. They needed his help, he wasn’t going to lie back and let this monster hurt them.

As Narinder crawls ever closer, Ratau tries one last time to push himself, nearly blacking out from the pain as he forces his hand against the nail holding him in place. With a guttural scream, he manages to rip his hand free in a spray of blood before reaching down towards his child and the crown keeping them alive.

The crown leaps off Lamby’s head, sending itself flying through the air as it transforms into a serpentine form. It just barely manages to catch his hand before coiling around and slithering up his arm. Narinder, who had originally been gunning for Lamby, freezes with shock when they see the crown willingly leave them, not to return to him, but to return to the last vessel he threw away.

Narinder can’t continue to hurt Lamby anymore without ruining his fun and he instead raises his fists to swing at Ratau, still dangling from his crucifix. The crown slithers up his arm and coils around his shoulders before resting on his head and returning to its natural form.

Seconds before Narinder’s fist could collide with the old rat, a powerful blast of energy erupts from him, sending Narinder reeling and obliterating the crucifix in a shower of splinters as Ratau falls to the ground.

Ratau is overwhelmed.

When he first wore the crown, he was taken aback by just how strong he felt. He could run without getting tired, swing heavy weaponry like it weighed nothing, and endure attacks that would kill any mortal man. That was decades ago though. The crown has gorged itself on countless sacrifices and the sins of its previous owner. Ratau felt beyond powerful. He felt like moving a single muscle could accidentally destroy everything around him. His pain was gone, his wounds were healed, and the monster who tried to hurt him was left stunned by the sudden transfer of power, but Ratau doesn't care about any of that.

He instead hurries to the aid of his child.

“Lamby!” He skids to a halt, kicking up red dust as he kneels down beside the poor kid and scoops them into his arms. “Are you alright, Lamby? Are you still hurt?!”

“Mommy…” Lamby sobs into his chest, feeling dangerously weak and cold. “I… I want…”

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” He shushes them, running his hands through their wool to try and soothe them. “I don’t know where she is, but your old man’s here to keep you safe. Don’t cry.” They cling to him, trying their hardest to compose themself as Ratau looks them over for injuries. The crown did what it could to keep them alive, but they’re still in pain.

“HOW?!” Narinder speaks up behind him, causing Lamby to flinch in his arms, filling his heart with rage. “HOW COULD THE CROWN CHOOSE A FAILURE LIKE YOU OVER ITS TRUE LORD?!”

“Hunker down, Lamby.” Ratau orders his little lamb, gently lowering them to the ground despite them trying to hold on to him. “I need to take care of this.”

“YOU ARE A WORTHLESS, PATHETIC FOOL!” Narinder screams, absolutely livid at what he believes to be yet another betrayal, this time from his own crown. “YOU COULDN’T EVEN KILL A FRAIL OLD MAN BEGGING FOR DEATH! YOU THINK YOU CAN KILL ME?!”

“Of course I do.” Ratau says, rising to his feet and placing himself between the god and his child. “I’ve killed plenty of monsters. You’ll be no different.” Ratau watches as Narinder starts to twist himself up in anger, enraged by Ratau’s defiance. “You gave me this crown because I hated the gods that hurt my friends and family. That feeling’s still here, burning away in my chest. I never got the opportunity to face a god in battle, now’s my chance.”

“DIE!” Narinder’s reaction to Ratau’s taunting is immediate, bringing both of his hands down to slam into Ratau’s head. Glancing back, Ratau finds that Lamby is crawling away to safety, he wouldn’t have to worry about them getting hurt in the crossfire. Ratau doesn’t move to avoid the blow, he instead holds his ground.

He’s never felt more powerful and alive. The old lord thinks that he’s a useless, withering old man, he’ll show the god just how wrong he is.

The crown already knows what he’s planning, assuring him that it will work as it readies itself. It’s been ages since Ratau’s cast a curse, but even over eighty years later, it comes to him naturally. Narinder’s fists are inches away from Ratau’s face before the crown acts on his will, channeling yet another divine blast through his body. The sudden force knocks Narinder back and off balance, crying out as his hands crack and strain after punching an opposing force full speed.

Taking advantage of Narinder’s disorientation and pain, Ratau charges forward, calling upon the crown’s power to arm him with his weapon of choice. It still remembers well that he felt safest behind the long shaft of a spear. Screaming with reckless abandon, Ratau throws himself forward, thrusting his spear with the intent of piercing the heart of the lord he once served.

The pointed blade at the end of his spear punctures through Narinder’s robes and flesh with ease, lodging itself deep in his chest. His breath catches in his throat as he quickly brings his hands down to his chest to swat away at Ratau, but he’s already backed off, taking the now bloodied spear with him to get some distance. The crown would save him from an insane amount of punishment, but he’s far weaker willed than Lamby is. It wouldn’t take that much abuse to break him, he needed to play it safe.

Of course, the moment he thinks that, a fireball pelts him in the back, causing him to cry out in pain as he spins around to see what hit him. Narinder’s eyes stare him down, all three of them floating around the bloody desert. The big bastard half buried in the ground was dangerous enough, having these things trying to curse him on the side didn’t help things. They needed to go.

Reaching up and tugging on his scarf, he finds that the crown is able to quickly call upon the power of the talisman within, healing the burn on his back in seconds. The big bastard is going to take more than a couple of stab wounds to take down. The eyes though, his spear is the perfect tool to blind them.

“YOU DIRTY RAT!” Right, even with a change in plans, he really shouldn’t turn his back on the big guy.

He finds himself moving without any conscious effort, but the crown isn’t able to move him fast enough to avoid Narinder’s next attack. He is struck from the side, Narinder’s bony fists slamming into him with enough force to shatter bones and rupture something inside of him. His body skips along the sand like a stone on water before he crashes into one of the many crucifixes littering the desert, startling the poor soul still mounted to it awake.

“R…Ratau…” They whine, silently weeping as they try to endure the pain still being inflicted on them. “Please…”

“Working on it!” He shouts up at them, letting out a sputtering cough as he pushes himself back up. He can feel his bones shifting around and resetting themself in his body.

”Weak…”

“Oh, you can go to hell.” Ratau barks up at the crown on his head. “Cut an old man some slack. I’m out of practice.”

”Keep fighting!”

Grumbling in frustration, Ratau charges back into battle, the crown arming him with his spear again. He liked the crown better when it didn’t give him so much lip.

It’s an incredibly painful and grueling battle. Keeping his distance from Narinder himself, he’s able to avoid taking any more serious hits again, but going for the eyes turns out to be more difficult than he thought. Each individual eye was casting curses at a rapid pace, firing indiscriminately in all directions to try and hit him. Age and his still aching leg makes it so he isn’t as spry as he used to be, but the Red Crown helps compensate for some of that, allowing him to dodge most attacks without too much issue.

In order to actually gouge out the eyes though, he has to get into point blank range. He’s fast, but not fast enough to dodge an attack that close. He would just have to endure it. He’s already suffered plenty, but he’ll go through plenty of punishment if it means sparing Lamby from any more harm.

Charging towards one of the eyes, spear in hand, it spews fire at him before he can reach it. He pushes through it, letting out a pained battle cry as his fur singes while he thrusts his spear forward. The spear hits true despite the disorienting pain, its blade punching right into the eye’s cornea. Spraying ichor douses the flames clinging to Ratau’s fur. Narinder screams out in pain nearby.

Ratau immediately gets a chain whipped across his back for his trouble, effortlessly splitting his flesh apart and setting his entire nervous system on fire.

“TRAITOR!” Narinder cries. “TRAITORS! ALL OF YOU!” Chains erupt from the sand, stabbing into the air wildly as Narinder himself thrashes around, his massive arms crashing into the ground with enough force to shake the earth. “NONE OF YOU WILL BE SPARED! NONE OF YOU WILL BE GRANTED PEACE! THIS DOMAIN WILL BE YOUR LIVING HELL FOR ETERNITY!”

“Just shut the hell up!” Ratau shouts back, though he cannot even hope to match the volume the rampaging god is putting out. “I doubt even your siblings bitched as much when they were challenged! I thought you were the middle child but you’re acting like a big ba-”

The sand beneath his feet explodes outward as a speared chain erupts from the ground and embeds itself into his gut. Sharpened metal rips through his insides as he tears it free and he clutches at his gut to make sure nothing spills out before he has a chance to heal. He really needs to shut up. Lamby had the right idea going mute halfway through the fight. Pissing Narinder off wasn’t doing anyone any favors.

He continues to fight, chains whipping and tearing at his skin, flames burning away his fur. The Red Crown helps him endure, healing him as long as he has the will to keep fighting. As Narinder continues to scream in rage and pain, the other crucified followers start to wake and seeing their lord’s disciple fight so fiercely to protect everyone, they all fight to remain conscious to call out to him.

Their prayers fill his head, feeding him with their devotion and fervor, but not all of them are directed at him. While they no longer had the crown to feed, many were still praying to Lamby. Taking his eyes off the fight for just a moment, he scans the bloodied sands for them, praying that they’re still alright.

Even though they were powerless, even though they were still clearly in pain, they darted from cross to cross, holding a large shard of broken wood in their hands to defend themself as they tried to creep closer to the fight. They look like they could crack at any second, but they’re pushing through the debilitating fear, desperate to save their flock.

They didn’t need the crown to be a hero.

”Distracted!”

A dismissive warning from the crown causes Ratau to return his attention to the fight. He’s taken one of the eyes down, but Narinder was fighting with even more ferocity now that he knows what he’s doing.

The remaining two eyes are much more focused now, casting curses simultaneously and lining them up to try and catch Ratau off guard. Narinder himself also keeps harassing him, summoning and swinging chains unpredictably to keep the pressure up. It hurts. He isn’t nearly agile enough to avoid everything being thrown at him at once. His skin melts and blisters beneath his singed fur. Bones snap and slowly reform as the crown works overtime to try and keep him in one piece.

It hurts to move, to breathe, to exist. He wanted to lie down in the sand, to let death take him to ease his suffering, but that’s not what will await him anymore. Narinder has turned this peaceful paradise into a literal hellscape. Things would only get worse for him if he gave up, but more importantly, Narinder will turn his sights on the innocents he brought here and to Lamby.

”You once showed promise.”

”Prove to me you are still worthy.”

“I don’t gotta prove anything!” Ratau hisses as he rises back to his feet, forcing himself to charge towards one of the eyeballs despite the severe damage he’s still recovering from. “Quit mouthing off at me and just help me kill this thing!”

”Stop running.”

”Stop flinching.”

”You will not die.”

”Fight through the pain!”

That must be real easy for it to say as an inanimate object. Every single inch of Ratau’s body felt like it was on fire and a good amount of him actually was on fire. Even with his enchanted scarf and the crown’s power, nothing could take away the pain consuming his whole being. He should be dead ten times over by now, but he was still alive. Narinder said it himself, the crown would become his curse, he would never die no matter what happened to him.

The crown was suggesting that he stopped trying to save himself, that he threw self preservation to the wind and allowed himself to become even more hurt just to land a good hit or two. He wasn’t making any real progress, he was going to have to do something drastic to turn the tides. Sheer strength wasn’t enough, he needed to catch Narinder by surprise to land a good hit in. And besides…

”Sacrifices need to be made.”

Bracing himself, Ratau charges towards the nearest eye, biting his tongue and bracing for the worst. Almost immediately, the eye starts spewing cursed flames in his direction and in the distance he can see Narinder raising his hand to swing one of his chains at him. The mad god is still expecting him to flinch, to flee from danger, to avoid the flames coming right for Ratau, but he does not falter. Ratau charges directly into the fire, hearing the chains which were meant to crush him crash into the sand behind him as he burns alive.

He’s nearly driven to his knees. It takes every ounce of willpower he has to keep himself moving instead of collapsing onto the ground to try and put himself out. Even the crown seems to scream out, the spear shaft in his hands melting and losing form as hellfire burns away at it.

Ratau and the crown manage to persist just long enough to skewer the eye burning them, Narinder’s screams of agony somehow overpowering Ratau’s own. He collapses onto the ground, rolling around and writhing in pain to try and put himself out, hoping the damp, bloody ash beneath him will smother the flames.

This was a terrible idea and he’d chew out the Red Crown for suggesting it if he wasn’t currently choking on smoke. He can’t move at all. Every single twitch he made and change in the air made him want to cry. Narinder’s howling does not make things any easier, the rattling of Ratau’s cooked skull threatening to knock him out. He struggles to keep his one eye open, trying to spot any potential dangers before they arrive, but there isn’t really a point since he can’t avoid them.

Narinder’s remaining eye approaches him while he’s incapacitated on the ground. Ratau didn’t even know it was possible to recognize so much hatred and malice in a floating eyeball, but it was unmistakable. Narinder was going to make him suffer far worse than he has already for what he’s done. He isn’t even sure if it's possible to hurt more than he does now, but he knows that Narinder will somehow find a way. He braces himself, unable to do anything to stop what’s about to happen.

Before Narinder’s eye can hurt him, a large shaft of broken wood is lodged into its side, spraying ichor as it falls to the ground and melts into a gorey mess, filling the air with pained shrieks once more. Ratau can barely turn his head to see who his savior is, but the gentle hands that wrap around him and try to pat the flames out could only belong to Lamby. They reach for his scarf, seemingly in an attempt to activate the talisman inside of it to heal him.

Their presence alone is enough to ease his pain and give him the strength to look up at them. Though doing so causes him great pain, he gives them a smile, forcing his lips to stay curled upward.

”Relinquish me.”

The crown speaks to him again, but Ratau almost misses it as Lamby holds him tight, crying out for him and shrinking away as Narinder screams at them both. He isn’t even using words anymore, all that escapes Narinder’s lips are the guttural snarls of a wild animal. Ratau tries to push himself up, to put himself in front of Lamby to shield them from the monster, but he doesn’t have enough strength to do it.

”I am not yours.”

”Though I cannot return freely.”

”Only through your will am I allowed to return to my lord.”

He’s hurting so much. He isn’t sure if he’d be able to survive without its power. For a brief moment before Narinder beat him into a useless pulp, he felt like he could take on the entire world. He’s never felt so good in his life. This power was intoxicating. Even face down in the dirt, he feels pride in knowing that he stood up against the god of death and did serious harm to him despite being a useless old man.

Though… If what the crown is saying is true and Lamby can’t just take it back from him, that means that Lamby willingly gave up that same power and protection to him. Narinder was bearing down on them, threatening to tear them limb from limb, and they still gave away the only thing keeping them alive to try and help him.

He supposes he had his fun. He was an old man, he shouldn’t be taking hits like this and pushing himself, he should be at home in his favorite chair with a drink in his hand and good company to share it with. Lamby shouldn’t be doing any of this either, but seeing how scared they were, knowing how helpless they must feel, he can’t leave them defenseless. Besides, as overwhelming as this power could be, he trusts that they’ll be able to handle it.

“It’s all yours…” Ratau croaks between sputtering coughs, holding his scarf tight as he leans against them.

The crown leaves him and his remaining strength goes with it. He goes completely limp in Lamby’s arms, unable to hold himself up anymore. He just tries to breathe, focusing on keeping himself alive as pain threatens to render him unconscious. He’s laid down gently onto the ground before Lamby rises to their feet.

“I’LL KILL HIM!” Narinder’s voice is even more unbearable now, causing Ratau to cry out in pain. “I WILL MAKE YOU WATCH AS I RIP HIS HEART FROM HIS CHEST! I’LL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR PATHETIC FOLLOWING FOR DARING TO WORSHIP YOU OVER ME!”

Lamby doesn’t say a word as they march towards the god. Tears stream down their cheeks as they arm themself with their returned crown. They look just as furious and angry as Narinder does. Ratau continues to take slow breaths as his enchanted scarf heals him, but he’s still completely immobile in on the ground, forced to watch as Lamby and Narinder clash again.

The tides have turned drastically this time though.

With all the damage Ratau managed to deal and with his eyes destroyed, Narinder is far weaker than he was before Lamby passed off the crown. Lamby was still hurting too, but with a bit of time to rest and hide away from Narinder’s wrath, they were fit to fight once more. Ratau tenses as the two are about to trade blows, but what happens next almost scares him more.

Lamby brutalizes the mad god.

Lamby throws themself at Narinder, using every available weapon the crown provided them. They bring hammers down on Narinder’s arms, crushing and snapping his bones. They take an axe to his hands, chopping off fingers and cleaving through what little flesh still clung to his skeletal frame. Ratau could barely stand to watch as the crown formed gauntlets over Lamby’s hands and they started clawing at Narinder’s face, ripping fistfuls of flesh out of him and tearing him to shreds.

Narinder’s howls of rage quickly give way to cries of fear and pain as Lamby tears into him. The whole time, Lamby remains silent, their face locked in a furious, tear streaked expression as they continue to maim the god that hurt them and all their friends. Ratau can’t imagine what’s going through their head, but seeing how distressed they were, watching as rage consumed them as they tore a god apart with their bare hands, Ratau is left horrified.

“Lamby!” He calls out to them, sputtering out a cough as it strains his voice. His voice is drowned out by the pained cries of the dying god. As Ratau tries his best to suck in enough air to raise his voice, it nearly catches in his throat when he hears what sounds like laughter coming from Lamby. “LAMBY!” Ratau forces himself to scream, tearing his throat raw as the pain of the exertion nearly takes him out.

The violence stops. Narinder had long since stopped fighting back and was at the mercy of Lamby. They stop their assault, their bloodied hands freezing mid swing so they could turn and look back at Ratau. He watches as their expression turns from rage to horror, looking down at their bloodied hands and the gorey mess they’ve made out of Narinder. The crown leaves their hands, returning to their head as they step away from the mangled god to hurry to Ratau’s side. Narinder remains still on the ground, unmoving.

“Ratau!” Lamby kneels down next to him, grabbing hold of his scarf to feed their fervor into it to ease his pain some more. “Are you ok?! Do you need the crown to fix you? Are you-”

“I’ll live…” He says weakly. Seeing how scared Lamby is for him hurts more than the burns do. “Help the others…” He pleads, looking up at those who are still crucified. “They’re hurting too…”

Lamby doesn’t want to leave his side, but with the sudden quiet that has fallen over the desert, their cries can now be heard. Lamby pushes to their feet and hurries towards the nearest crucifix, trying to find a way to safely and painlessly rescue the poor soul nailed to it. As they do, Ratau tries his best to regain his strength. He wants to help too, but he can still barely move.

Through the cries for help, however, Ratau hears another voice join the others. A low, pained whimper. It sounded so helpless, so scared, so hurt…

As Lamby tends to their flock, Ratau tries his best to crawl towards the crying.

Each little movement still hurts like hell, but the damp ash beneath him soothes his burned skin somewhat as he crawls. Even the air starts to clear out a little now that the fighting is over, bringing some light back to this once peaceful plane. He isn’t ready to lie down just yet though, people still needed help and he had promises to keep back home. There wasn’t much he could do right now, but he could at least try and comfort whoever was hurt.

Crawling towards the still corpse of the god, he pauses when he realizes that the god himself appears to be missing. Blood and gore still lay strewn across the desert, but his massive stained robes lie empty, the chains and cuffs lie in the ash not attached to anything. He didn’t somehow escape, did he? Ratau has never seen a god die before, did they simply fade away when their time was up, or perhaps his soul has been sent elsewhere to rest in the afterlife he once ruled over. Whatever the case, the crying was coming from nearby Narinder’s remains.

He inches closer and closer, pausing briefly to regain his strength before continuing onward. It doesn’t even occur to him who could possibly be crying this until he’s almost upon them. Everyone was strung up and immobile save for Lamby who was already working to let everyone down. Was Narinder keeping a hostage?

Taking another break to catch his breath, Ratau spots movement. Someone was cowering beneath the tattered remains of Narinder’s robes, sobbing uncontrollably and in clear pain. Sucking in a deep breath, Ratau tries to brace himself onto a knee, resisting the urge to cry out himself as it causes him great pain to do so. He manages though, and once he’s propped up, he reaches forward to tug at the robes to reveal who is hiding beneath them.

Pulling the cover away, Ratau finds a young man, bare as the day he was born and covered head to toe in scars and cuts. Tufts of mangy black fur sprout out at odd angles and the man looks terrifyingly thin and emaciated. Fresh blood spills from several wounds and Ratau reaches up for his scarf, attempting to loosen it so he could give it to him in hopes that it will ease the suffering he’s in. The movement is painful though, chafing at the burnt flesh around his neck and shoulders and causing him to let out a light hiss of pain.

That hiss causes two ears on the man’s head to flick upward. He turns to face Ratau and his heart nearly stops with fear when he sees not two, but three eyes staring back at him.

Ratau cries out as the cat lunges for him, arms and claws outstretched. He tries to get to his feet to run away, but he’s still too hurt to make any serious movements like that, causing him to crash down on his back. He curls up, bracing himself for the worst, but he does not feel the pain of claws tearing into his flesh. Instead, he hears a pained cry come from the man who just attacked him.

Still curled up on the ground, Ratau peeks over at Narinder and finds him sprawled out on the ash, crying out in agony. He’s just as hurt, barely able to move, let alone attack someone. Ratau slowly tries to sit himself up so he can continue getting distance away from the monster, but Narinder doesn’t do the same. He wails into the ground, screaming until his voice cracks as he rolls around in the ash. Tears leak from all three of his eyes as he weakly punches the earth.

“Why?!” He demands, his voice weak and broken. “Why?! Why?! WHY?!” He breaks down completely, babbling incoherently as he curls up on the ground again, his frail body shaking with sobs and pain. “I was so close! Why would you take it from me?! Why?!”

“Ratau!” Hands quickly scoop Ratau off the ground and he looks up to find Lamby checking him over for further injuries. “Are you alright? What’s going-”

“You!” Narrinder snaps his head up at the sound of Lamby’s voice. “Traitor! Monster! Cursed, damned lamb! Curse you! Curse you and the wretched creature that birthed you into this world! I hate you! Hate you! HATE!”

Narinder tries to push himself up, pure rage and hatred in his expression, but he only manages to stumble forward once before pain draws him back down to the ground, leaving him to crash back into the ash. He cries out again, curling up and whimpering as his injuries overwhelm him.

He looked so pitiful, Ratau couldn’t help but feel bad for him. The once terrible and all powerful lord had been reduced to nothing but a sad, broken husk of a man completely overwhelmed with grief, pain, and rage. He was lashing out like a child, clawing at himself and kicking at the ground.

Lamby leaves Ratau’s side and steps towards the pitiful form Narinder now possessed, their expression steely and cold. Ratau’s heart sinks when he sees their crown fall to their hands, arming them with a short, curved dagger. For a brief moment, Ratau catches a look of pure fear on the cat’s face, his three eyes going wide with terror before his whole face suddenly twists into a snarl.

“Do it then, monster!” He screams at Lamby. “Spare me from this suffering! You’ve already taken everything else, take my life too! Greedy, merciless, vile monster!”

Lamby takes another step towards him and Narinder flinches. He was only playing at being tough and in control. There was no mistaking it though, he was terrified, cowering before Lamby as they continued to march towards him. Narinder squeezes his eyes shut, his ears flattening against his head as he braces for death.

Lamby stops though, hesitating only a couple of steps away from the cowering god. They look back to Ratau, wearing a conflicted look on their face. They must see how pitiful and sad this display was too.

Narinder was a monster, just as bad if not worse than the bishops. There were still people nailed to crosses right behind them thanks to the sadistic whims of this terrible man, but that’s all he was now, a man. Stripped of his godlike powers, he’s a pathetic, sniveling whelp at Lamby’s feet.

There was nothing holding them back from killing him. He’s hurt so many people, stringing them along for years before tossing them aside the moment they became useless to him. He may have once held noble ambitions and ideals, but his soul has been completely corrupted with hatred and spite. He was completely at their mercy, and yet…

Ratau can’t speak for Lamby, but all he sees now is a scared kid.

Narinder is by no means a kid at all. He looked like he could be in his thirties at most, but he was thousands of years old. His actions were unmistakable though. Tears streamed down his face and his knuckles were bloody from when he was beating the ground beneath him. He glares up at Lamby, trying to put on a brave face despite the trembling in his body. He was frustrated, he felt betrayed, and he was terrified beyond belief.

Despite everything he’s done to him, Ratau isn’t sure if he’d be able to hurt him like this.

“Ratau?” Lamby lowers the dagger in their grip, turning their back on Narinder to face their father.

“I don’t know.” Ratau shakes his head. “I don’t want to either, but… What else would we do?”

“There is nothing to discuss!” Narinder barks at them both. “Just… I was…” Narinder can no longer keep the act up and he falls to his knees, burying his head in his hands. “I was this close to the mortal world… To sunshine… To wind… I fought so hard and… Just… kill me.”

Lamby looks back at Narinder with a million emotions dancing across their face. They stare down at their hands, bloody and worn from the grueling battle. They stare down at the dagger in their hand, meeting the crown’s eye as it stares back up at them.

They let go of the dagger, letting it return to its crown form before stepping away from Narinder. He looks up at them in shock as Lamby kneels beside Ratau to try and help him to his feet.

“What are you doing?!” He demands, genuine confusion painted across his face. “Don’t delay the inevitable! Just do it!”

“I’m sorry, Shamura.” Lamby muses to themself as they prop Ratau up, giving him a shoulder to lean on. “I can’t fulfill your last request.”

Back on his feet, Lamby leads Ratau back towards the crucifixes, allowing him to help take their captives down while feeding his scarf enough energy to heal him. Most of the followers are too hurt or out of it to really know what’s going on, but some of them look back towards the man desperately calling out to their lord, trying to get their attention.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” He cries out, desperately trying to push himself up but he’s still unable to move. “You aren’t just going to leave me here, are you?! I will find my disciples again! I will find a way out of this hell and I won’t rest until you are in chains where you belong! Death is too good for you! You deserve to suffer just as much as I did!”

Lamby pays them no mind and continues to rescue their following with Ratau remaining by the most injured of the flock, sharing his scarf and what little healing ability he had to spare. Narinder does not take Lamby’s complete dismissal of him well, screaming out more threats to try and spur them on until his voice becomes hoarse and strained. It just makes Ratau feel even worse for him, it’s like he’s a little kid desperate for attention, screaming and swearing as much as he can just to get someone to look at him. Ratau isn’t even sure of what Lamby was planning, but this seemed almost crueler than just killing him.

It isn’t until everyone is pulled down from their crosses that Lamby even acknowledges Narinder’s existence. They march right up to him and Narinder tenses, bracing himself for the blade that Lamby summons to their hand. Rather than bringing it down on him, Lamby instead turns their sword to Narinder’s discarded and tattered robes, cutting a large strip of fabric out of it before tossing it towards Narinder.

“Cover up.” Lamby tells him. “You’re indecent.”

“What does it matter?” Narinder tosses the fabric to the ground, wincing in pain from the effort. “I’ll be a corpse soon enough.”

“No you won’t.” Lamby says. “You’re coming with me.”

Everyone falls silent, Narinder included who stares at Lamby in disbelief.

“Lamby?” Struggling to move, a couple of the followers he helped down try and support Ratau as he approaches the kid. “What do you mean he’s coming with you? I understand not wanting to hurt anyone else, but…” Ratau shakes his head. He was never good at making hard choices. None of their options here were pleasant. They either kill a defenseless man who was no threat to anyone anymore, leave him here to rot like he always has, or… “Are you sure about this?”

Lamby nods their head, a grim expression on their face. Ratau returns the nod. He trusts their judgment.

“I am going nowhere!” Narinder hisses, staring daggers into Lamby’s back. “There’s only one way this ends! Kill me, you coward! You’ve slaughtered countless souls before me, why stop now?!”

“I will not harm you.” Lamby turns to tell him. “You either come along quietly, or I leave you here. Now cover up and follow me, or continue your eternal sentence. Only one of those options brings you back to the surface you’re so desperate to return to.” Returning their attention to their flock, Lamby moves to join them. It was time to go home.

“Is this another trick?!” Narinder shouts at them. “Are you going to walk me out of here just to slit my throat the moment I taste freedom?! For what reason would you have me follow you and your disgusting following?!” Lamby doesn’t turn to face him and continues marching forward, ushering their scared and hurt following to safety. “You’re a bastard! I know whatever you have planned for me will be a living hell compared to this! Wretched, fiendish, loathsome lamb!”

Narinder continues to scream at his usurper, but they do not listen. They whisper assurances to their terrified followers, promising to take them home and tend to their wounds. Ratau himself can’t wait to get off his feet and finally rest his eye knowing he’ll have a safe place to sleep and heal. Narinder’s shouting becomes more frantic and panicked as they continue to walk, his voice getting quieter as the distance between them grows.

Ratau looks back and finds pure terror on Narinder’s face. Lamby spared his life, what happens next is all on him. His choice was either to rot here forever, or to follow the traitors who stole away his crown. Ratau can see him struggling to make that choice, his hatred keeping him rooted in place while his fear tries to push him forward.

Fear wins out and Narinder struggles to start following them. Taking notice of this, Lamby slows their pace, giving him time to catch up. Ratau didn’t like this, he’s just as confused as to why Lamby would let this monster go free, but seeing the look on their face, he knows that there’s no talking them out of it. They had their reasons.

Either way, Narinder was a god no more. The Old Faith was dead and the New Faith was canned before it even began. The world is at peace now…

He hopes so, anyways…

Chapter Text

Lamby shudders when they feel a cool breeze blow against their skin. After what felt like an eternity in that hell, they never thought they’d get to see the sun again. Their followers all cry out in relief as they step back into the mortal world again, quickly passing over the ring of water surrounding the ritual circle they all must have been dragged in through. Ratau stumbles forward and sprawls out on the cold stone floor, crying tears of joy now that he’s back in the mortal world.

Everyone starts to move for the stairs, desperate to get back to the village, but once they’re reminded of how many steps they’d have to descend and knowing how hurt they were, they all turn to Lamby for help.

“Everyone, brace yourselves.” They command, raising their hands. “Ratau, do your best to try and calm everyone down. Find your brother and get everyone to the medical tents for treatment. I will join you shortly.”

“No problem, Lamby…” Ratau huffs, squeezing his eye shut as he prepares himself for travel.

Calling upon the power of the crown, Lamby opens up portals beneath everyone’s feet, allowing them to fall through and travel straight home to avoid the long walk back from this temple. The landing might be rough on them and everyone back home will be terrified to find all of their friends so hurt and battered, but everyone’s back home safe now.

Stepping off the ritual circle, Lamby turns around and waits.

Several minutes pass in silence as Lamby questions their decision. Killing him would be pointless now, he’s no longer a threat to anyone and leaving him behind would accomplish the same thing. They want to do something else though, they have bigger plans for the old god of death. At the very least, while they’ve failed to fulfill Shamura’s last wish of sparing their brother the pain of betrayal, they can at least make up for it by fulfilling Narinder’s wishes of walking in the mortal world once more.

In a flash, the ritual circle activates and the old god is spit out of the afterlife and into the mortal plane. He lands hard on his chest, sprawling out on the stone floor as he coughs weakly from the exertion. He takes a couple of deep breaths before raising his head, bristling with fear when he sees Lamby staring down at him.

“You didn’t bring your robe…” Lamby observes with a bit of disappointment, averting their eyes. The crown floats off their head and Lamby reaches their hand beneath it as it deposits a large cut of silk that they stole from Shamura’s treasury. They toss it over Narinder, covering his lower half before turning to face him again. “That’s a bit better.”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Narinder hisses, trying to push himself up. “Don’t even pretend to act courteous to me, traitor! What do you plan to do with me? Do you intend to string me up from the gallows for your whole flock to see? Will you make a grand ritual out of my sacrifice? Tell me wha-”

“Shut up.” Lamby grumbles. They were granting him this mercy, but they by no means had to be nice about it if Narinder wasn’t going to behave. “No harm is going to come to you, but only under one very simple condition. You will not harm my flock. Whatever you do to them, I will do to you. I am already being very forgiving for the countless sins you’ve committed, I will not be so merciful if you use this second chance I’m giving you to hurt others.”

“A second chance?” Narinder shakes his head as he struggles to his feet, clinging to the sheet of silk Lamby gave him to keep him descent. “You’re a backstabbing traitor. You really expect me to believe that you’re showing me mercy?”

“Fine then.” Lamby sighs. “I am spitting in the face of your sibling’s last wish, defying the bishops you hated so much. Does that make things better for you?”

Narinder scrunches up his face, furrowing his brows as he scrutinizes Lamby. “Just spit it out, traitor.” He growls. “What do you intend to do with me?”

Lamby lowers their head. “I’m still not sure.” They mumble. “I’m still trying to decide if letting you live is a mistake or not.” Lamby turns their back on him, facing the stairs leading back home. “Despite everything you’ve done to me, all the lies you fed me-”

“I do not lie!” Narinder interrupts, causing Lamby to glare back at him.

“You saved my life.” Lamby cuts to the chase. “Even though it was under false pretenses, you granted me the only joy and strength I ever felt in my life since my mother died. You don’t deserve it, but… I want to return the favor.”

“The only thing I want returned is my-!” Narinder tries to lunge at them, his hands reaching for the Red Crown, but the moment his feet splash in the water surrounding the ritual circle, he stumbles and slams into the stone floor, groaning in pain as the air is knocked out of him. He curls up on the floor, wheezing as he tries to build up his strength again. Tears threaten to spill from the corners of his eyes as pain and frustration overwhelm him.

Their positions were switched. He was the powerless one and they held all the cards. They could do whatever they wished to him. Punish him for everything he did, send him off to fend for himself like they were forced to do all their childhood. He was completely at their mercy, but they didn’t want to hurt him. They didn’t want to become as cruel and selfish as this pathetic whelp was.

Stepping forward, Lamby raises their hands over Narinder, calling upon the crown’s power. “I am sending you to my temple.” They tell him. “I will join you there shortly with the necessities that you’ll need to clean yourself up. I trust you won’t do anything stupid until then.”

“Go to hell you-!” Narinder is whisked away before he can finish his threat, disappearing in a flash of red light as the earth swallows him. Lamby is left in blessed silence for the first time in what felt like ages. They had a worried flock and now a very furious former god back in their village, but with peace and quiet finally granted to them, Lamby falls to their knees, overwhelmed with exhaustion.

Looking down at their hands, they still tremble. They haven’t been able to stop shaking for hours. Their hands are still stained black with blood and ichor, their nerves still shot from the terrible pain inflicted on them over and over and over again.

They almost kept the crown from Ratau, terrified that he’d suffer the same excruciating pain they went through, but seeing him struggle so much to come to their rescue… They’ve never felt so afraid and powerless in their life. Not even when the bishops found them and carried them away to be executed were they so afraid. They now know a fate worse than death exists. Knowing that Narinder did that to them, to Ratau, and threatened to do the same to everyone who ever worshiped Lamby, that alone was reason enough to kill him, but they refused.

The gods were all monsters.

”Yet you still wear a crown.”

Lamby looks down in the pool of water next to them, staring at their scarred reflection and the crown that rests on their head. Even now, they can tell that it hungers. The gods take and take and take, constantly hungry, always wanting more, never caring who they have to trample to get what they want. For years, they were no different. Feeding those who disobeyed them to the crown, throwing away people’s lives for pointless trinkets of power.

They will do better.

Before Narinder started them down their dark path, they thought they had found peace with their seemingly benevolent lord. Their following felt safe under their care, knowing they were fighting to protect them from the wrath of the Old Faith. After their mother died, all they ever wanted was to feel loved and safe. Knowing they were that person to so many people, they had never felt more content.

Even though Narinder tried to turn them into a monster and convinced them to hurt and overwork those they wanted to protect, they will not kill him for it. It was through a god’s power that they were able to do so much good in the world. They strive to be the same benevolent lord they and Ratau thought they worshiped.

Washing their hands and face in the still waters around the ritual circle, Lamby rises to their feet. Before they depart, they glance up at their crown. Was it alright with this? Were they being foolish trying to be a benevolent god? Would it turn them down a dark path just like all the others?

”God of Death.”

”Tend to the dead.”

”That is all I ask.”

They suppose that’s good enough for them. Taking a deep breath, they try their best to hide the trembling in their hands as they open a portal home.

There were so many people that Lamby had to attend to. So many people were hurt and looking for assurance, the rest of the flock was terrified that so many had come home injured from what they thought was going to be a quick ritual, and already people were scared of the temple as something has been rampaging inside of it and they’re afraid it might come out. Lamby themself looked battered and unkempt, but despite the obvious signs of distress, Lamby gave them all a warm smile, assuring them that everything would be alright and that they’d do everything in their power to care for everyone.

They hope none of them noticed the trembling in their hands. The crown has done all it can to heal them, but phantom pains still run up and down their body. They pray that Ratau isn’t also suffering after his short battle against the god.

They hurry to the medical tents where most of the flock has now gathered. Most of the flock got away with manageable injuries that some medicine and bedrest will fix, but all of those who followed them to the afterlife speak of what they saw to the gathered crowds and the heroism displayed by their lord. Lamby will have to address what happened out there, and more importantly, they’ll have to figure out how to explain why the god who tortured them all was currently thrashing around in the temple.

That was a problem for later though. Right now, they needed to check on Ratau.

Searching through the medical tents, they don’t find him anywhere. Speaking with the doctors, they’re told that he was taken to his home by his brother to be treated there. Lamby doesn’t even waste time running across the village to reach Ratau’s home and instead opens a rift beneath their feet to appear right at his front door. Hurrying inside, they find Ratau tucked away in bed, most of his body already wrapped up in bandages and coated with camellia poultice to treat his burns. His brother kneels by his bedside, continuing to apply the medicine and bandages. Despite being mostly immobilized, Ratau slowly turns his head and breaks into a wide smile when he sees Lamby.

“There you are!” He coughs. “Is everyone else ok? I assume taking care of them is what took you so long.”

“Everyone is being treated, yes.” Lamby assures him. Even with how badly injured he is, his first thoughts were of the others. They’re beyond blessed to have such a thoughtful man in their life. “Are you going to be alright? You look very bad…”

“I’ve been through worse.” Ratau tries to laugh, though he sputters out into a cough with the effort.

“Maybe when you still wore the crown.” Ratoo shakes his head, readying more bandages. “What the hell even happened to you?! You were gone for only a couple of hours! You look like you’ve been through hell!”

That earns another weak laugh out of Ratau. “You have no idea, brother…”

“A couple of hours?!” Lamby boggles. “No, no we were there for… I don’t even know how long, but it wasn’t hours. It was…” Lamby shakes their head. That was the least of their concerns right now. “Ratau, are you going to be ok? Where’s your scarf, I can try and heal you. Do you need the crown?”

Ratoo’s eye bugs out for a moment at the prospect of handing the crown back to his brother, but Ratau weakly shakes his head. “It did a good job of making sure the important stuff was fixed.” He assures Lamby. “My head is resting on the scarf now, or what remains of it. I just need some time and care, don’t worry.”

Knowing where his scarf is, Lamby approaches Ratau’s bedside, kneeling down next to Ratoo as they reach out to grab hold of the tattered, singed cloth to allow their power to activate the talisman still inside. Almost immediately, Ratau lets out a sigh of relief, sinking deeper into his bed. Ratoo lets out a grumble beside Lamby and starts to put away the bandages he was applying, realizing that they probably weren’t needed anymore.

“What happened?” He demands from Lamby. “Who did this to Ratau?”

“Big bastard tried to sacrifice us to break free.” Ratau says, breathing a little easier now. “He didn’t take kindly to Lamby refusing to part with us or their own life. It was hell, but we got out of there. The One Who Waits is no more. We’re free from the gods.”

“Why do you look worse than the others?” Ratoo asks. “And what’s this talk of a monster in the temple? The people at the medical tents say that you brought it here.”

“You brought him here?!” Ratau jolts with some alarm, wincing in pain as he agitates his wounds. “I thought you were going to find some place far away from here to leave him, I didn’t think you’d put him inside the temple!”

“I will handle it.” Lamby says, trying to calm him down. “He can’t hurt us anymore, but if he tries to do anything, especially to you, I will make sure he is reprimanded.” Silence falls between the three of them. Ratoo does not ask either of them to elaborate as he pieces it together himself. The lord that hurt them was now trapped in their temple. “Are you sure you’re alright, Ratau?” Lamby asks, reaching a trembling hand out to hold his. “I’m sorry you had to fight on my behalf like that.”

“Huh?” Ratau raises his brows. “Are you kidding me? I never felt more alive, at least for the first couple minutes before the big guy started beating me into the dirt. I got to kick Narinder’s ass and I got to save you from his beatings for a few precious minutes. I felt so strong and powerful, but I feel like a wet noodle now.”

“...Do you want me to give it back so you could heal faster?” Lamby asks, reaching up for the crown.

“No.” Ratau shakes his head. “That thing scares me. You seem to have a good handle on it, but having that much power in my hands messes with my head. That, and the thing’s grown an attitude since I last wore it. I don’t know what the hell you did to make it start acting up so much, but I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself.”

”Weak minded rat.”

”He understands his limitations.”

”Unlike some.”

“It can be a little abrasive.” Lamby chuckles. “It was stuck on Narinder’s head for thousands of years, can you blame it?”

“Well, putting that in perspective, I almost feel bad for the thing.” Ratau laughs. “Still, keep the creepy little thing planted firmly on your head. If I see that thing slithering around in my room at night, I will beat it with my walking stick.”

”His walking stick is gone.”

”He is helpless to stop me.”

Lamby reaches up and grabs hold of the crown, holding it in front of them to glare down into its eye. It stares back up at them as if it didn’t just admit that it planned to terrorize the poor old man. Their followers have already alerted them of a terrifying snake slithering around the cult grounds at night while they tried to rest. They were going to have to keep a better eye on it to make sure it didn’t get up to any mischief. Just because they were lenient and allowing it to leave them doesn’t mean they will allow it to terrorize their flock.

“Now what the hell is the bastard who hurt my brother doing here?!” Ratoo asks once it's clear that Ratau is going to be fine. “Why the hell is he even alive?!”

“I have my reasons.” Lamby tells him, rising to their feet. “I just… need to make sense of them myself. It’s a complicated matter, but rest assured, he will hurt no one ever again. If he tries to take advantage of my good will, if he even raises a fist to hurt Ratau, you, or anyone else in the village, his punishment will be swift and severe.”

“But why-”

“Have faith in them, Ratoo.” Ratau interrupts his brother before he can press Lamby further. “While I wouldn’t go as far as bringing him into our home, I would have done the same. You have not seen him, and… Well… My feelings on the matter are complicated. I’m sure Lamby’s are too.”

“They are…” Lamby sighs. “I will come back to check on you again soon, Ratau. What happened down there was hard on the both of us and… I could really use your help when I find the time.”

“Of course, Lamby.” Ratau nods. “Whenever you need me, I’ll offer what help I can. As long as you don’t need me to get up anytime soon. I don’t think I’m leaving this bed for a while.”

“Thank you.” Lamby says with a smile. “Ratoo, thank you for tending to his wounds. I’m sorry he had to get hurt at all.”

“He’s alive and in good spirits.” Ratoo tells him. “That’s all I can really ask for. Just make sure nothing happens to him again, alright? You’ve given me a heart again, I can’t handle the stress and grief of seeing my baby brother get hurt.”

“I hate to see him like this too.” Lamby assures him. “I promise, I won’t let anything hurt him like this again. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Leaving the brothers alone to heal, Lamby takes in a deep breath as they prepare themself for what was no doubt going to be a very awkward, very loud, and potentially very painful meeting. Stopping by the old tailor's house and fetching a large ceremonial robe and the kitchens to gather some dried meats, Lamby makes their way to the temple. A few people were gathered by the front door, pressing their ears against it to listen inside. Lamby is about to shoo them away, but a loud thump and a roar from within the temple startles enough of them away from the door for everyone to take notice of Lamby’s approach.

“Fear not.” They tell them. “I will take care of this. Please offer company to those in the medical tents. I will return soon.” The followers bow their heads and run off, leaving only a single wooden door between them and Narinder. They can’t put it off anymore. Shoving the doors open, Lamby steps inside the temple and kicks the doors closed behind them.

The temple is a mess. Blood stains the tiled floor and several pews have been overturned. Scratch marks have been dug into the door and into some of the pews and Lamby finds the large swath of silk they had given to Narinder to cover up with has been ripped to shreds and scattered about the temple. Narinder himself is screaming with exertion as he attempts to topple another pew over. He manages to flip it over, but he ends up collapsing to the floor along with it, hurting himself in the process as he wheezes on the ground in an attempt to catch his breath.

“Are you done?” Lamby asks, completely baffled by the tantrum the god is throwing. “Why did you rip up the sheet? Do you want everyone to see you naked? I assure you, no one will be impressed.”

“Choke on your own tongue and die!” Narinder manages to spat out on the ground before Lamby tosses the old robes at them. Almost immediately, he thrashes around to try and get out from under them and Lamby hears fabric ripping.

“I’m not getting you anything else.” They warn. “If you really want everyone to see you as you are, be my guest, but you’ve already left a bad impression on the flock. I doubt you’re going to get them to tolerate you if you walk around in the nude everywhere you go.”

Narinder peeks over the robes offered to him. “What?” He asks, genuine confusion putting a halt to his tantrum.

“I am not keeping you prisoner here. I will not bind you in chains again.” Lamby tells him. “Maybe it’s been a few thousand years since you’ve interacted with polite society, but regular people typically wear clothes.”

“I am no regular person!” Narinder barks.

“You look like a wild, shroom addicted mad man someone dragged in from the woods!” Lamby blurts. “Wear some damn clothes! These people once worshiped you and held you in high regard, do you really want them to see you in this state?” Their words seem to finally get through to the rampaging cat and he reluctantly puts on the robes as Lamby looks away. When they look back, he is slowly rising back to his feet, fully clothed and decent now. “Thank you.” Lamby huffs. “Now, I need to-”

Lunging forward with a surprising amount of speed for someone so frail, Narinder throws his arms forward and slams his fist into Lamby’s face. They flinch at the sudden movement, but they barely feel the blow at all thanks to the crown’s power of protection and Narinder’s weakened state. Hell, the attack seems to hurt Narinder more as he hunches over, holding his hand to his chest as he hisses out in pain.

“Are you done, Narinder?” Lamby asks, holding out the dried meat they brought for him. “I really do want to make things better for-”

“Don’t!” Narinder throws his other hand out and smacks the food out of Lamby’s hands. “Don’t call me that!” He hisses. “I am your lord! You will refer to me by my title!”

“Your siblings didn’t mind being called by their names.” Lamby says, looking down at the meal Narinder tossed to the floor. “Even their followers-”

“Bite your tongue before I rip it from your head!” Narinder shouts, stepping forward to get into their face. “Do not even compare me to the traitors you collaborated with you scum sucking-”

“SHUT UP!” Lamby shouts, their patience finally wearing out. Narinder’s three eyes go wide with shock and he stumbles backwards, tripping over one of the pews he knocked over and falling hard on his back. He stares up at Lamby as they step towards him, his body tense and fearful. For all his back talk and demands to be called lord, it was pretty obvious he knew where the power lied here.

The crown falls from Lamby’s head and splits off to reach both their hands, forming large gauntlets. Narinder squeezes his eyes shut, but Lamby’s not after him just yet. Grabbing hold of the overturned pew Narinder tripped over, they lift it up and set it upright again before reaching for the cat. He yelps when Lamby wraps their hand around him and lifts him up before they forcefully sit him down on the pew.

“Sit down and shut up!” Lamby commands, the Red Crown returning to its place upon their head. “You were usually very good at being silent and brooding. Do that and just… stop talking!”

Narinder remains still and tense on the pew, his eyes staring them down with fear and fury, but his mouth thankfully remains shut. He wraps his arms around himself, wincing slightly and Lamby fears that they might have been too rough with him, but hearing a loud gurgle escape from him, they realize he was hungry. Thinking about it now, they originally brought him some food just out of courtesy’s sake, but he likely hasn’t eaten for thousands of years. Walking over and kneeling down to pick the meat scraps off the floor, Lamby returns to Narinder and drops them onto his lap. Narinder ignores them despite his hunger pains, but he remains silent as ordered.

“Narinder.” Simply saying his name earns a growl out of the cat, but nothing more. “You must believe me when I say I mean you no harm. You may have no problems lying to people and hiding your true intentions, but I am being honest when I say I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want any of this to happen. More than anything, I wanted to believe that you would lead us to paradise, that you were the kind and benevolent lord I first pictured you as.”

“What changed?” Narinder speaks out, momentarily angering Lamby, but the question sounds genuine enough.

“I started to doubt you after a meeting with Shamura.” Lamby explains. “They questioned me on why I was hunting them, why I was so loyal to you. I told them that nothing would sway my belief in The One Who Waits… and then they asked me why I didn’t just refer to you by name.”

“You were that easily swayed?” Narinder scoffs. “The simple fact that I wished to be referred to by my title led you to stabbing me in the back?!”

“It meant that you were keeping things from me.” Lamby says. “Not even your disciples knew your name, and when asked, you turned me away. Knowing you wouldn’t even part with your name, I started to question what else you kept from me. Shamura told me the same story you shared long ago, about the night you were banished. I demanded to know why they would do something so cruel to their younger brother, why they tortured my lord. Once again, you left out a very important detail, the context that turned your terrible story of abuse and betrayal into a necessary and painful evil that needed to be committed for everyone’s sake.”

“THEY LIED!” Narinder blurts, tears threatening to spill again. “They’re all monsters! Shamura was the one who pushed me to grow stronger! To change the world with my power! The moment I became powerful enough to challenge their rule, they betrayed me! You were supposed to be my most loyal and you let them challenge your faith.”

“Is that really what you believe?” Lamby asks. “Shamura didn’t want to do it. They didn’t want to hurt their little brother. Their last request which they gave to me with their dying breath was to spare you from the pain of yet another betrayal, knowing that we’d come to blows.”

“They despised me!” Narinder barks. “No loving sibling would do what they did to me! They-”

“They gave you Aym and Baal as gifts.” Lamby interrupts, silencing Narinder. “They felt horrible over what they were forced to do and the thought of you being left all alone pained them so much that they searched for companions to keep you company. And this is not from Shamura’s own mouth, but from their mother. She was given one of your most powerful relics to grant her immortality in exchange for her two kits who sat by your side.”

Narinder sits speechless for several moments. He keeps opening his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“You really don’t know why they did this to you? Why I did this to you?” Lamby asks.

“Enlighten me.” Narinder glowers at them, though Lamby can see more fear than anger in his eyes.

“Shamura feared that your meddling with the fundamental laws of life and death would anger the old gods.” Lamby tells him. “The others ruled over their domains and used their powers to make grand changes, but all of it fell within the natural order, their crowns were meant to make these changes. You were to simply rule over the afterlife, to shepherd souls to their final rest. What you were doing, extending lives long past their expiration, bringing people back from the dead, that was worrisome enough, but your plans to abolish death completely, to allow everyone eternal life, that was far too much.”

“The old gods are dead.” Narinder quickly blurts out as if he were catching Lamby in a lie or an obvious contradiction. “It was by my hand and my crown that the old gods were slain, as ordered by my sibling countless millennia ago. Why would Shamura imprison me for acting out against the laws of the gods we slaughtered?!”

“Because they’re not fully gone.” Lamby is quick to tell him. “You’ve seen through the crown's eye, haven’t you? The still beating heart that lies in Anchordeep, the fungus infested skull in the spore grotto and the bizarre cult that formed inside. Their presence still lingers in this world, as does their impossible strength. Shamura feared that if too much damage was done, these powers would turn against them. Even the Red Crown feared what you were doing would call upon the wrath of the old gods.”

“Even my own crown was plotting against me…” Narinder curls up on the pew, burying his face in his hands.

“Make no mistake, I am not excusing the bishop’s actions.” Lamby says. “They’re all still monsters who brutalized you and went on to slaughter my kin to avoid the consequences. You aren’t much better, convincing me to hurt innocent people and threatening to kill me and my flock to set yourself free. That being said…”

“Do you pity me?” Narinder scowls. “Did you keep me alive just to rub this in my face? To convince me that I’m somehow as monstrous as my traitorous siblings?!”

“I did it because I still owe you.” Lamby tells him, catching Narinder by surprise. “You’re a lying bastard who forced me to do terrible things and then you tried to throw me away once you were done with me. You are just as bad as you siblings, but for the first few years of my service to you, I’ve never felt safer. I never felt so loved and comforted, not since my mother died. I still want to serve the idealized version of yourself you appeared to be when we first met, I strive to be that version of you for the rest of my flock. I wouldn’t be here without you, I wouldn’t have my flock or my family without you. You gave me everything and I haven’t returned anything. This is how I wish to repay you. You are free from your chains, your siblings can no longer hurt you. You are free to experience everything life has to offer that you were denied. The sun beating down on your back, the wind blowing through your fur. I have freed you, just as you asked. I just can't let you have the crown.”

“Do you expect me to thank you?!” Narinder rises from his pew on shaking legs, glaring down at them. “Look what you’ve done to me! You’ve taken more than I’ve given you! I feel disgusting! I can barely stand after what you did to me!”

“You’d probably feel better if you ate something.” Lamby counters. “A bath would help too. You’ve been bleeding all over yourself for centuries. Maybe you’ll stop being so grumpy after a dunk in the ri-”

Narinder lunges again, both his hands reaching up for the crown on Lamby’s head. Lamby doesn’t even need to act, the crown avoids the cat’s grasp of its own accord, floating far above both of them so he can’t reach. With the Red Crown out of the way, Narinder turns his hands on Lamby instead, reaching for their throat.

Lamby’s hands shoot up and grab hold of both of his wrists. He tries to wrestle out of their grip, but he’s far too weak to escape. Lamby stares up at him, unimpressed.

“While I have granted you freedom, I will not tolerate these foolish actions of yours, especially if you try anything with my flock.” Lamby lets Narinder go, tossing his weak arms back at him. “By all means, swing on me all you want to get it out of your system, but you aren’t going to win. If you dare turn those claws on anyone outside, I will not show you mercy. You’ve hurt them enough.”

“What happened to the killer I turned you into?” Narinder taunts them. “How badly did I break you before that worthless rat stepped in to-”

Lamby brings their fist up and smashes it into Narinder’s chin, snapping his head back as he stumbles backwards and crashes into the pew behind him. His hands fly to his face, blood spilling from his mouth as he opens it in a silent scream of pain. He stares up at Lamby in shock as the crown lowers itself back down to their head.

“Trust me. The killer you made me into is still here.” Lamby threatens. “Despite once being the god of death, I can see the fear in your eyes. As pathetic as your existence is now, you don’t want to lose it. Behave and you can experience the pleasures of the living world. If you try to hurt my friends, if you try to take advantage of the mercy I granted you, I will send you back to the afterlife you fought so hard to escape from to rest for eternity.” Lamby leans in real close, forcing Narinder to lean back to avoid butting heads. “Do you understand?”

Narinder trembles with rage, spitting a mouth full of blood onto Lamby’s scarred cheek. They do not flinch.

“Though, I suppose that might be too good for you.” Lamby says. “The afterlife is supposed to be a plane of peaceful rest, something you don’t deserve if you lay a finger on my flock. I’m sure I can find something else for you. Now, I’m not going to repeat myself again. Do you understand the conditions that I’m letting you live under?”

“Yes…” Narinder chokes out through the blood pooling in his mouth. Lamby steps back, giving him his space and allowing him to spit everything out. Lamby takes several deep breaths and tries to settle the trembling in their hands.

“Diner will be ready in a few hours if the dried meat isn’t enough for you.” Lamby tells him. “When night falls, I will allow you to step outside and walk you to the nearby stream to wash. Clothes will be tailored for you and you will receive your own place to stay. I truly want to make this work. While I cannot allow you to take the crown, I want to give you the freedom we both fought so hard for. My people look up to me to protect them from the wrath of the gods, so please, for both our sakes, don’t do anything stupid.”

Narinder curses under his breath at them but he remains on the pew. Satisfied, Lamby looks around the temple and starts to clean it up, flipping the toppled over pews right side up and gathering up the torn scraps of silk on the floor. Narinder stares at them the whole time, but they do not let it get to them. They snapped at him, but it was inevitable with the way he was acting. He was dangerous and was constantly lashing out at them, all it would take is one deep scratch on one of their followers to bring their wrath down upon him, he had to learn his lesson the hard way.

With the temple as tidy as they can make it right now and with Narinder sitting still for the time being, Lamby makes their way to the door. Pushing it open, they glance back to find his three eyes glaring at them from across the temple. They’re sure that he’ll trash the place again before they return later in the night. They had a few high maintenance followers in their village, but Narinder was going to be a handful.

He would test their resolve. They did not want to fall down the same path he did. They pray that by forgiving him and helping care for him, they can prove to themself that they truly are as benevolent as they wish to be.

They want to be better, no matter how desperately they wanted to tear him apart.

It was no wonder his old lord was freaking out so much after losing his powers. Having a weak, flabby, mortal body sucked…

Ratau has been in bed all day and night to try and ease his pain, but simply lying still for hours on end is hurting him now. His tightly wound bandages keep him from moving freely and trying to shift around on his bed agitates the burns and bruises he’s still recovering from. The fact that he’s alive at all is a miracle considering what hell he went through, but he almost wished he took up Lamby’s offer to take the crown again.

Just for a second, just long enough for it to undo all the damage and give him the strength he needs to bounce back from this. Maybe Lamby will appreciate a break from the power it granted them. There was a lot of responsibility on their shoulders, so much so that they anointed him as their first disciple to help manage the place.

He struggled to sleep last night, the crown can help with that too, and as a plus, Lamby will be able to sleep soundly once they aren’t being kept awake by its power.

Looking around his room, Ratoo is sleeping on a bed roll in the corner of his room so he’s available to tend to Ratau if he needs it. He isn’t as still and motionless as he usually was when he slept. While he still doesn’t breathe, Ratau can hear the light thumping of his heart. Even though he was here to assist Ratau if he needed it, he didn’t want to wake his brother up. Taking a couple of deep breaths, Ratau braces himself to try and move.

He’s been making little twitches and shifting around in his sleep without too much issue, but actually trying to push himself up and out of bed proves to be very difficult. He’s out of breath by the time he manages to sit himself up and throw his legs over the side of the bed and he needs a minute before he can try anything else. Building his strength, he tries to push himself to his feet and while he can support his weight without his whole body threatening to crumple, he struggles to keep his balance. This was really stupid and he should just wake Ratoo for help, but he’s reasonably sure that as long as he can reach his walking stick he’ll be able to…

Where was it?

He teeters on his feet, trying his best to keep his balance as he scans the dark room for his walking stick. He isn’t even sure if he had it when he was first pulled into the afterlife. Was his stick lost somewhere in limbo now? Damn it… It was a really nice stick too.

He’s about to give up and sit back down in bed when he notices Ratoo’s walking stick was leaning against the wall beside his bed. It was a bit tall and Ratoo probably wouldn’t take kindly to having it missing, but Ratau reaches for it regardless. His brother would understand, he really needed the extra support.

With a new walking stick in hand, Ratau leans very heavily against it, bending the wood slightly under his weight, but with it, he’s able to shuffle around on his own despite his injuries. As much as it hurts, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride as he slowly makes his way to the door. This old dog’s still kicking!

Stepping outside, it’s very early in the morning. The sky was still dark with only the barest hint of light on the horizon. The fires have died out, every home surrounding him is dark, leaving only moonlight to illuminate the clearing for him. Typically this darkness would frighten him, and to an extent it still does, but here in Lamby’s own village with a statue in their image watching over him as he walks, he’s sure nothing will stop him from reaching his goal.

Approaching the temple, he is surprised to see light pouring out from the windows. Was Lamby preparing an early morning sermon? They didn’t seem to be anywhere else in the village, they must be busy inside. Ratau hopes he isn’t interrupting anything as he leans against the doors, slowly pushing them open before letting himself inside.

He pauses beside the door, looking into the brightly lit temple halls as torches burn bright from the sconces on the walls. Once he’s caught his breath, he looks around, searching for Lamby within the grand hall. He really hopes they aren’t downstairs. He was straining himself enough as is walking around like this, he’s certain trying to go down stairs in his condition will get him killed. He slowly makes his way towards the stand. If he gets close enough, they should be able to hear him from downstairs. As he walks though, his ears catch the sound of rustling fabric and creaking wood. He turns, hoping to find Lamby…

And pales when he sees someone shut the doors behind him, three eyes meeting his one from across the room.

Ratau stands frozen on the spot, his already wobbly legs threatening to give out on him as the three eyed cat marches towards him, a terrifying scowl etched into his face. Even though he was no longer the towering god he once was, Narinder still towers almost a whole two feet taller than Ratau, something that becomes very apparent as he marches right up to the old man. Narinder stops inches away from Ratau, leering down at him with contempt as he trembles with fear.

“Traitorous rat…” Narinder growls, his arms held stock still at his sides.

“M-my lord.” Ratau bows his head slightly to the cat, using every bit of strength he has not to collapse right then and there.

“You at least have the sense to refer to me by the title I deserve.” Narinder scoffs, turning his back on Ratau, his tail swishing up and smacking against his face. “Don’t think you will escape my wrath. You will suffer just like the cursed lamb when I get the chance.”

Ratau isn’t sure what the hell comes over him, but he finds his mouth moving before he can stop himself. “It’s just us here…” Maybe it’s left over bravado from his short time with the crown, maybe the hellfire cooked his brain. Whatever the case, his words stop Narinder’s retreat and he turns to glare at him for his brazen choices of words.

“Were we not being watched, I would rip your head from your shoulders, rat!” Narinder growls at him, his third eye darting up past Ratau’s shoulders while his main two remain locked on him. Glancing behind him, Ratau finds that they’re indeed not alone. Peering over the lectern on top of the stand, the single eye of the Red Crown stares them both down from across the room. As creepy as the squirming little thing is, it was keeping Narinder in check and Ratau safe. Even separated from his head, it was still looking out for Ratau.

“Where’s Lamby?” Ratau asks, throwing the question out for either his previous lord or the crown to answer. The crown flicks its gaze downward to the floor before returning to him. They’re downstairs.

“They’re not here.” Narinder says dismissively. “Now begone from my sight before you try my patience, rat!”

Ratau is torn between what he should do now. He wants to see Lamby and he knows that they’re close by, but there’s no way he’s making it down the stairs, especially with how weak his legs feel now. He really doesn’t want to stick around with this monster as he’s the reason he’s wrapped up like a mummy at the moment, but at the same time, he’s incredibly curious as to why he’s even here at all.

His legs start to ache from standing in one place for too long, so rather than risking the stairs or leaving, Ratau carries himself to the nearest pew and slowly sets himself down, sighing with relief once he’s off his feet. Seeing him sit down seems to draw the ire of Narinder, but he can’t do anything as long as the crown is watching them both. He just stands there, staring a hole into Ratau’s back as he tries to regain his strength. He really shouldn’t, he’s already gotten himself into trouble with his earlier outburst, but Ratau can’t help but ask a question.

“What are you doing here?” He says, turning to face Narinder. “I’ve been resting all this off, they haven’t told me what’s going on with you.”

“Why do you care, traitor?” Narinder snaps. He looks furious and Ratau really shouldn’t push it, but he’s always been terrible at keeping his curiosity in check.

“This is the first time I’m able to stand before my lord in over eighty years.” Ratau says. “It’s a shame that our reunion was soiled by you locking me in a cage, but here we are now as equals. Can you blame me for being curious about how my lord’s been since I left your service?”

“We are not equals!” Narinder snarls. “You are a worthless bleeding heart who wasted years of my time and if it weren’t for the gift of life I gave to you, you’d be a forgotten pile of bones rotting away in the woods! You are beneath me in every sense of the word!”

“Come on, we used to be friends.” Ratau tries to reason, deepening the scowl on his retired lord’s face. “I doubt you would have granted me my extended life if you truly hated me. It’s true that I was not fit to be your vessel, but do you really not appreciate what little joy and relief I was able to grant you?”

Narinder’s face scrunches up for just a moment, his three eyes falling to the floor. It lasts for only a second before he returns his attention to Ratau, but he still notices it. Narinder has no veil to hide behind.

“You taught me to avoid those with meddlesome bonds to family that got in the way of your duties.” Narinder tells him, his voice coming out stern and somewhat stilted. “It is thanks to your failure that I found a successful replacement. Such a shame you all turned out to be backstabbers.”

“Oh that’s rich coming from you, my lord.” Ratau scoffs before biting his tongue. What the hell happened to his filter?! Why does he keep saying stupid things?! He feels his heart start to pound in his chest as Narinder approaches him, pure fury in his eyes. He comes to a stop right behind Ratau, his fists clenched.

“Care to repeat yourself?” He threatens. Ratau’s in too deep now, but knowing that the crown was watching, Ratau finds the courage to keep talking.

“I served you loyalty for eighty years, my lord.” He says, looking up at the menacing cat. “Even when Lamby told me that you had forsaken me, I still had faith in you. I hoped beyond hope that they were wrong, that you still loved me and those who worshiped you. I came along with Lamby, one of your most devout followers, and you locked me in a cage and threatened my life. I don’t know why you’re throwing the word traitor around when it’s you who took advantage of us.”

“If you were truly faithful, you would have given me your life.” Narinder is quick to tell him in the same stilted voice he used earlier. “Mortals like you exist to serve lords like me. Dying to serve your lord is the greatest honor a mortal can achieve. Instead, you turned your sword against me and lost any chance you had at a fulfilling death.”

“To be honest, my lord, that’s a load of horse shit.” Ratau tells him flat out, this time on purpose. “You had Lamby and I fight the gods on your behalf as you told us how evil and wicked your siblings were. You told us what they did to their cults was wrong, kidnapping sacrifices and being turned into monsters at their gods' behest. Was that all wrong because it was done by your siblings? Are you somehow innocent despite doing the same damn thing?”

“Bite your tongue, ra-”

“No.” Ratau blurts, struggling to push himself to his feet so he can turn and face his old lord. “Tell me, how was what you did to Lamby and I any different from what the other bishops do? You brainwashed us, convinced us that slaughtering the people who trusted us was not just necessary, but a good thing. You promised us a paradise free from the Old Faith’s tyranny but all we were getting was the same garbage in a different coat of paint.”

“You betrayed your own god!” Narinder barks, leaning down and butting his head against Ratau’s, forcing him to stumble back. “You are traitorous scum!”

“And you forsook your most loyal followers!” Ratau butts back. “Eighty years putting my faith into a complete lunatic who probably doesn’t even know my damn name!”

Something shifts in the look of fury on Narinder’s face.

“Tell me, Narinder. Do you know what my name is? The name of your first vessel, one who remained loyal to you for eight decades even after being cast aside?” Narinder opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. “How can you claim that you’re hurt by our betrayal when we were nothing more than tools to you?!”

Before Ratau can get another word out, he suddenly finds a hand clenched around his throat. He tries to suck a breath in but can’t. His walking stick falls to the ground as he reaches up and tries to pry Narinder off of him.

“That’s all you were ever meant to be, rat.” Narinder tells him, a sadistic smile forming on his face as the corners of Ratau’s vision starts to go dark. “Even with a crown, you amounted to nothing! You are a weak, pathetic, worthless waste of skin just like every other disgusting creature who was caged up with you. You only exist because the gods will it, and if the gods desire your death, they will get it! Vile, putrid, traitorous-”

“The gods demand you let him go.”

The grip around Ratau’s neck vanishes. Ratau falls to the floor, gasping for air between sputtering coughs. While he catches his breath on the floor, he hears the clop of hooves against the stone. Narinder starts to back away.

“I made it very clear what would happen if you harmed my flock.” Lamby’s voice echoes throughout the empty temple hall, though it sounds much more sinister than anything Ratau’s ever heard. “Do you have a death wish, Narinder? Do you already miss the chill fog of the afterlife?” Narinder does not say a word. Looking up from the floor, Ratau finds a look of terror on his face. “I already gave you plenty of warnings. You will be punished for this.”

“Wait…” Ratau holds a hand up, sputtering out another cough. Before he knows it, Lamby’s hand is in his as he’s helped up to his feet.

“Ratau? Are you alright?!” Lamby asks, the terrifying edge in their voice now gone. “What are you doing out of bed, you’re still hurt.”

“I…” Ratau wheezes. “Don’t know anymore. I forgot.”

“Please take it easy, Ratau.” Lamby pleads with him, kneeling down to get his walking stick. “I’m sorry I didn’t come up sooner.” Ratau gives them a weak smile to show that he’s alright and Lamby returns it, only for their expression to shift dramatically when they turn to look at Narinder. “I’ll walk you back home in just a moment. I have something to take care of.”

Letting him go and leaving him to lean on his walking stick, Lamby starts making their way towards Narinder. The old lord continues to back away, a look of barely suppressed panic on his face.

“No, no…” Ratau speaks up, agitating his throat again. “Leave him alone.” Ratau pleads.

Lamby turns to him, a confused look on their face. “But he hurt you.”

“I probably deserved it.” Ratau shakes his head. “I was giving him hell and he reacted badly to it. If I didn’t push him, he wouldn’t have done anything. Let him go.”

Lamby looks torn for a moment, but eventually the tension leaves their body and they relax. Narinder, while still tense and anxious, gives Ratau a strange look.

“Consider yourself lucky that you left Ratau enough breath to forgive you, Narinder.” Lamby turns to address the cat, startling him. “He is a far kinder man than me. Touch him again, and there will be no second chances.” With their threat issued, Lamby returns back to Ratau’s side. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed and change your bandages. I’ll bring breakfast right to you so don’t try getting up and hurting yourself to come get it, alright?”

“Thanks Lamby.” Ratau smiles, grateful for the shoulder to lean on as Lamby leads him towards the door. As he’s walked out, Narinder remains still as they both walk past him. Looking up at him, Ratau sees several emotions dance across his face. It was kind of hard to miss with three eyes conveying them. He still looked scared by Lamby’s words, furious at Ratau’s…

And thankful for him speaking up.

Opening the doors to the temple, Lamby leads Ratau outside where the sun was just barely starting to peak out over the horizon. As he’s led back home, Ratau can’t help but think back on his conversation with the old lord.

Something tells him that this isn’t the last time he’ll be speaking with him.

Chapter Text

It takes several days of bed rest before Ratau feels he’s healed.

He gets plenty of visitors from worried townsfolk and his time in bed gives everyone plenty of time to make him a new walking stick and a new scarf to keep his talisman in. He’s still getting heat flashes and his fur and skin are severely burnt in many places, but despite the disfiguring burn scars, he looks great. Hell, with Ratoo having a giant hole in his chest, they both look like walking dead men now.

His old vest was burnt and torn to shreds in the battle, so the tailors have whipped something new up for him. A beautiful silken robe which should be soft against his scarred skin while also decorating him as the lord’s disciple. He’d prefer something more casual, but he finds it so comfy that he decides to keep it despite its opulence and the fact that he’d probably look way too overdressed at his next game night with his friends.

He really should check up on the old cabin again and leave a note or something. He doubts Shrumy would like to come down here with its gold statues and daily worship, but directions to come find him if he isn’t at home would be nice. Maybe if Lamby isn’t busy, he’ll have them quickly ship him back home to tidy the place up and leave a notice.

Lamby’s been very busy as of late. Their disciple has been bedridden for days and after the whole ordeal with Narinder and the afterlife, there were lots of people who were scared, confused, and questioning Lamby’s motives after they led them to the god they once worshiped. Speaking of whom, Narinder was still a thing he needed to worry about. He’s still around here somewhere, though what he’s been up to is a mystery to Ratau. The others talk about him though, either wondering who the three eyed stranger is or questioning Lamby’s decision to not only spare him but keep him around.

Not even Ratau’s fully informed on that decision, but as Lamby’s disciple, he supposes it’s his duty to find out, either through them or the old lord himself.

Stepping outside on his own for the first time in days, Ratau takes a moment to bask in the afternoon sunlight before exploring the village.

“Oh! Good afternoon, Ratau!” Almost immediately, people take notice of him walking through the village and rush to meet him. Approaching him with arms held wide to help support him, an older rooster named Richard walks along beside him. “It’s good to see you moving again. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Ratau says, giving the rooster a smile. “I might look a little rough, but I’m feeling great. I appreciate your concern though, you’re a kind soul.” Richard beams at that, delighted to hear his praise. “If you’re eager to help, I’m looking for Lamby if you’ve seen them around.”

“Oh, um…” Richard stands up, looking off into the distance. “I believe Lamby left. They went up the stairs over there a couple of hours ago.”

“Where to?” Ratau asks.

“They said they would be right back and that they just wanted to check something, but that was a while ago. I’d go up there and check, but…” Richard doesn’t need to say anything more. There were still people recovering after what happened. It’ll probably be a while before anyone feels comfortable enough to venture up those stairs. There’s no need to, everyone is safe right here.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon.” Ratau assures Richard. “If not, I’ll try and muster up the strength to climb those stairs and see if they’re up there. If I can’t see Lamby now, there’s someone else I’d like to check in on.”

“Who’s that, Ratau?” Richard asks, eager to assist.

“Do you know where Narinder is?” Ratau asks. When Richard furrows his brows, he elaborates. “The guy with three eyes.” That clears things up and a frightened expression crosses over Richard’s face. “Yeah, that’s a fair reaction. He freaks me out too.”

“Why do you want to see him?” Richard asks with some worry.

“I have some things to discuss with him.” He tells the frightened follower. “There’s no need to worry about me. I can take care of myself. I stood my ground against him when he was much scarier than he is now.”

“I believe the baker saw him wandering off into the woods towards the stream.” Richard tells him. “I ask that you please be careful. I still struggle to believe any of the stories that the others share, but seeing the condition you were left in when you returned…”

“I will be alright.” Ratau assures Richard. “And thank you for helping me. Go ahead and visit the baker. Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you something for your trouble.”

“Thank you, Ratau.” Richard says, bowing to him. “Stay safe.”

“I will.” Ratau bows back. “Blessings upon you.”

Parting ways with the concerned follower, Ratau splits his attention to the north of the village where the stairs lead and the south where the stream ran. One of the two people he’s looking for will be infinitely more pleasant to see, but the other was much easier to reach. After several moments of indecision, Ratau decides to head south. The idea of the cat being left unsupervised doesn’t sit well with him. He doubts that Lamby left the crown behind to keep watch, someone’s gotta keep an eye on him.

Venturing to the edge of the village and following the small beaten path out of the clearing, Ratau makes his way to the stream. Collecting water from the stream wasn’t necessary anymore thanks to the wells and rain collectors in the village, but the local stream still received a few visitors every once in a while. It was a nice place to go for a swim, an alright place to try fishing, and Ratau found walking down the small dirt path comforting as it reminded him of his daily routine back home.

At the end of the path, he finds who he’s looking for, though he isn’t very excited to see him. Judging by the tension in the cat’s shoulders and the flicking of his ears, he guesses Narinder isn’t happy to have visitors either.

“Good afternoon, my lord.” Despite clearly wanting to be left alone, Ratau tries his luck anyway, giving a friendly greeting and making a mental note to shut his trap and not blurt out anything that will make Narinder want to strangle him.

“Rat…” Narinder grunts, his attention remaining on the stream as he keeps his back turned.

“Are you enjoying your time by the stream?” Ratau prods, hoping to strike up a friendly atmosphere before he gets any closer.

“I was…” Narinder growls.

“Oh, well…” Ratau stumbles over his words for a moment before pressing on. “Well it’s good to know that you at least were enjoying yourself.” Narinder offers no response to that and keeps staring off at the stream. “Do you mind if I join you by the steam?”

“Go to hell.” Narinder snaps.

“I’d rather not go back.” Ratau is quick to retort. “It’s much nicer up here.”

Narinder lets out a long sigh when it becomes clear that Ratau isn’t going anywhere. Finally prying his attention away from the stream, he turns to look at Ratau. “You look hideous.” He says.

“And who’s fault is that?” Ratau asks.

“Yours, you traitor.” Narinder growls, turning his back again and staring into the stream. “Had you cooperated, you would be resting in peace in the afterlife.”

“I guess it just wasn’t my time.” Ratau huffs, approaching the stream and slowly lowering himself down until he’s sat next to it. There’s plenty of space between him and Narinder, both to give him some of the space he clearly wants and to stay out of arm's reach so he doesn’t get shoved into the stream. “I gotta say, you look much better than I do considering you lost that fight.”

“Why are you here?!” Narinder turns to look at him. “Come to gloat some more? Is it not enough that you stole away my power and left me in this disgusting form?”

“I came out here to talk to the lord I served for almost all my life.” Ratau tells him. “Also to keep an eye on you. I still have bruises from what you did to me in the temple that night.”

Narinder continues to glare at him, but something shifts in his eyes. His brows furrow for a moment as he scrutinizes Ratau. Ratau wonders what could be so interesting about him or what he could have said to get this reaction when Narinder finally breaks the silence.

“Why did you stop the lamb?” He asks. “Could it be that you’re plotting against them? That you still remain loyal to me?”

“Where the hell did you get that idea?!” Ratau boggles. “I did it because I thought Lamby was being rash. I don’t know why they decided to spare you, they have more reasons to hate you than I do, but I wasn’t going to let them hurt you over one dumb mistake that I spurred on. Besides, it was the right thing to do.”

After a few moments of silence, Narinder lets out an unimpressed grunt. “I see. Your pathetic mortal sense of empathy is clouding your judgment again.”

“My pathetic mortal sense of empathy is the only reason you’re alive right now.” Ratau reminds him. “I’ve never seen Lamby that mad. Well, except for when you set me on fire down in the afterlife. They probably would have done the same thing they did to you then, only I doubt you’d be as durable now as you were.”

“I suppose you’re expecting me to thank you now?” Narinder asks. “Do you think I owe you a debt for reigning in that insane, crown stealing beast?”

“No.” Ratau shakes his head. “If anything, I feel like I still owe a debt to you. Hearing what Lamby told me when you believed I had died, I had never felt so heartbroken and stupid. Eighty years of service and worship to a god who didn’t care. Despite that though, I get the feeling you aren’t as much of a heartless bastard as I thought. You absolutely are a heartless bastard, but despite how much you’re trying to prove otherwise, I think there’s a small part of you that did care.”

“So you’re delusional then.” Narinder scoffs. “I really did cook your brain, didn’t I?”

“You left me with a parting gift after you took the crown back.” Ratau points out, trying to prove that the lord once cared. “You granted me an extended life, allowing me to live long enough to meet the next crown bearer.”

“I only did so because it served my needs.” Narinder shakes his head. “Keeping you alive was only for convenience's sake. You dealt with the traitorous lamb while they were still just a sniveling child.”

“B-but you-”

“You’re a sad, pathetic old man clinging to hope that you didn’t throw your whole life away.” Narinder tells him. “Had you laid down your life for me, you would be at peace, having remained loyal to your lord and content knowing that your life was given to a greater cause. Here you are now, desperately trying to justify your traitorous actions now that you realize you’ve thrown away eight decades of progress to join a usurper’s side.”

“Well screw me for trying to have some faith in you then.” Ratau grumbles, staring down into the stream at his scarred reflection. “And my long years of service weren’t for nothing. I fought to set you free and to dismantle the Old Faith. The bishops are all dead and here you sit beside me no longer in chains. There were a few bumps in the road, but I fulfilled my life’s mission by assisting the crown bearer in freeing you. My duty is done.”

“Look at me, rat!” Ratau turns his head to find a furious Narinder staring back at him. “Look at me! Look what you and that wooly beast did to me!”

Ratau looks the old lord up and down. “Ok?” He says. “You look a bit frail and you’re obviously way shorter than you used to be, but I don’t see anything wrong with your appearance. I’d say if you put a brush through your fur you’d probably look quite handsome.”

“This form is disgusting!” Narinder growls. “I feel so weak! I can’t even go a day without passing out. There are all these strange aches and sensations I don’t understand and… I don’t… I don’t even want to think about some of the other bodily functions I’m forced to perform… It’s sickening!”

“HA!” Ratau barks out with laughter. “Maybe that’s why you’re such a stuck up asshole! You’ve been constipated for thousands of years!” Narinder shoots him a glare so menacing that Ratau momentarily forgets to breathe. Right, he can’t say stupid stuff like that, he’s gotta keep himself in line. Scrambling to change the subject, a question rises to his mind. “I don’t understand what you’re so upset about though. Weren’t you once mortal? You weren’t born a god, you had to have had a life before you were crowned.”

“If you can call being a wild, untamed beast a life.” Narinder scoffs. “Do you know what life was like before the old gods? Before the divine beasts crowned me and granted me purpose?”

“I…” Ratau pauses. “I can’t say. I’ve read your grimoire front to back, reading your stories and accounts as you rose in power and ascended to godhood, but you wrote nothing of what came before you were crowned. Hell, trying to read up on history, the furthest records I could find only go as far back as the Old Faith after you were exiled, though I know from your writings that there were other gods aside from you and your siblings.”

“There was no history before the old gods.” Narinder tells him. “There were no people. We were no different than the roaming beasts of the woods you mortals hunt for food. It wasn’t until the old gods graced us with their presence that us roaming beasts were enlightened. It was through them that I went from a wild animal, sleeping in the dirt and feasting on the flesh of others for survival into the powerful lord I am… was…”

“That’s…” Ratau is speechless for a moment as he tries to make sense of what he’s been told. “H-how long ago was this?”

“It’s impossible to tell.” Narinder says. “The passage of time was not something beasts had a concept of. I had already worn the crown for many lifetimes before mortals began to evolve enough to question the world around them. Many more generations passed before they invented modes for telling time and predicting the seasons. For all intents and purposes, I have existed since the beginning of life itself.”

“Holy…” Ratau sits flabbergasted. He thought he was getting old, he thought Karacyth was absolutely ancient, but here he is sitting next to the oldest living being in existence. “I…” He struggles to find his words. “I don’t think I can even comprehend that length of time.”

“Mortals aren’t meant to.” Narinder says dismissively. “As the god of death, I have watched countless generations die. My domain was once barren. The sand you walked upon is the collective, ground up bones of those who have died since the dawn of time. I was crowned to oversee them, to lay every mortal soul to rest. Death was my domain, and I served loyally for tens of thousands of years, one of hundreds of gods serving under the old ones.”

“You didn’t write much about the other gods.” Ratau notes, getting himself comfortable. He isn’t really sure how, but he’s got Narinder talking quite a bit and none of the words he’s saying are threats. It was nice to have a pleasant conversation with his old lord again and he was eager to learn more about the nature of the gods. “What were they like?”

“They were no different to us.” Narinder tells him with no real malice in his voice, lost in the past. “They all wore crowns and held domain over aspects of the world. Some still remain. Haro still casts a shadow over these lands even though his crown has long since died, his godly title stripped from him by my siblings and I.” A wicked smile creeps across Narinder’s face as his third eye looks away from the stream to look at Ratau. “And the demon who took your eye was once the god of the night. Stripped of his crown and status, he’s left to hoard power through our discarded trinkets, offering them to idiots such as you for a taste of godflesh.”

Ratau scratches his cheek underneath his missing eye. “But what happened to them?” Ratau asks. “Why were there only five of you left?”

“Something you mortals will never understand is our godly ambitions.” Narinder tuts. “When you possess infinite potential and the ability to mold the world to your liking, you can never settle for good enough. There were only so many mortals to worship at our feet, only so much devotion to go around. All us lords were as weak and pathetic as you were with the crown.”

“Can you stop calling me tha-”

“Not to mention, the old gods that made us who we were, the grand directors who laid down the foundations who were worshiped by all.” Narinder continues, unbothered by Ratau’s interjection. “Some of us lords bound together, forming smaller circles within the pantheon to consolidate our power. My family and I were part of one of these circles, and our leader, Shamura, plotted a scheme to grant us powers far greater than what any of us would be able to achieve on our own.”

“Shamura had plotted a coup.”

“Leshy wreaked havoc across the land, sowing chaos and confusion amongst the gods and their followings. Heket and Kallamar worked hand in hand, leaving our enemies starved and diseased, unable to stand up to our collective might. Shamura foresaw everything, who would flee, who would fight. Together, we managed to overpower the old gods in their weakness, and with the powers the Red Crown granted me, I killed the old gods by my own hand. With our old masters slain, we became the new rulers. The other lords had either died for daring to resist against us or gave up their powers to us in exchange for their lives. Our new faith was born, though of course, it lasted so long that you fools and your feeble grasp of time started to refer to it as the Old Faith as you started worshiping mushrooms or lighthouses or whatever pitiful things you mortals cling to now.”

“I think I can piece the rest together from there.” Ratau says, rubbing his temples as he tries to absorb all this information. “After eons of ruling over the afterlife while your siblings ruled the world, you started experimenting and performing dark arts with your crown. You freaked your siblings out and they turned against you, desperate to stay in power. They cast you out for a thousand years until you reached out to me.” Narinder gives him a slight nod. That was the synopsis of it all. “My lord, not to cheapen what your siblings did to you, but… After hearing about how long you’ve existed, the millennia of imprisonment doesn’t seem that long at all. It’s probably just a drop in the bucket for a being as long lived as you. Maybe for a mortal being, that time might feel like eternity, but you’ve lived for thousands of eternities.”

Ratau feels he might have overstepped somewhere as Narinder turns to glare at him, but the old lord does not threaten or mock him. His eyes fall to the ground, he seems to be lost in thought. It takes him a while to respond and when he does, his voice is stilted.

“Perhaps it was the fact I was locked in one place.” He says. “That, or the pain of knowing that my own siblings trapped me there made that time feel longer than it was.” Looking back to the stream, his tone drops and something more genuine slips out of him. “The past few days have felt like an eternity… I don’t even know how long I’ve been sitting here. Years used to pass me by in the blink of an eye, I saw countless generations from birth to inevitable death, but now I find the days stretch on too long. Years mean nothing to me, and yet… A year out here, four whole seasons…”

He falls silent, his eyes lost in the nature before him. “My lord?” Ratau leans forward, trying to get his attention. “Is everything alright?”

His words seem to draw Narinder out of his daze, but it also brings back his nasty attitude. “What the hell am I even doing talking to a traitor like you?! What business did you even come to bother me for?!”

“I had no real business.” Ratau says. “Just wanted to talk. With how long you just rambled there, it sounds like you’ve been desperate for someone to talk to as well. You’re obviously someone who enjoys their peace and quiet, but trust me, even hermits like me can get lonely.”

“I’m nothing like you, rat.” Narinder sneers. “The very notion that I’ve been reduced to something as pathetic as you sickens me. I am the god of death. It was by my hands that the gods who built this world were slain. You are less than an insect in my eyes.”

“Well hey, insect bites can hurt if you don’t respect them and mind your manners around their nests.” Ratau says, once again failing to catch himself from saying something stupid that might anger his old lord. The cat is already opening his mouth to retort so Ratau quickly spits something out to change the subject. “What have you even been doing over these past few days?” He asks. “I’ve been recovering from the… well, everything you did to me, I’m not caught up on what’s going on with you. Are you staying somewhere in the village?”

“The traitor has me squatting in some run down cabin at the edge of the clearing.” Narinder growls. “It is unfit for a being such as myself. They are taunting me, forcing their lord to live in squalor while the traitorous filth who worship them live in homes of solid wood and carved marble. I am fed the leftover scraps from the other’s meals and if I ever step foot outside, I find them watching my every move. They claim to have granted me freedom, but I am still their prisoner.”

“They don’t trust you anymore.” Ratau tells him. “And I imagine that it will be hard to build that trust up again. You hurt them, you hurt me and all their friends who they swore to protect. They’ve extended the olive branch to you, but until you can prove that you’re willing to cooperate, things are going to stay tense between you.”

“I will never cooperate with that backstabbing, two timing, piece of sh-”

“See, that talk is why you’re living in a shed at the edge of the woods.” Ratau tells him. “You need to mellow out.”

“Bite your tongue, rat!” Narinder barks.

“For one, you still haven’t learned my damn name.” Ratau huffs. “I’m doing you the courtesy of referring to you as my lord despite the fact you’re not a lord anymore. The least you can do is add the last two letters of my name.”

“How about I refer to you with the title you deserve, traitorous filth!” Narinder hisses.

“That literally takes more effort to say, Narinder.” Ratau retorts, dropping the name he seems so sensitive over.

“Former vessel…” Narinder grumbles, seemingly playing along.

“I’d still argue that’s more effort than needed, but I’ll accept it.” Ratau sighs. “Thank you, my lord.” Rising back to his feet, Ratau takes a moment to stretch himself out. “It’s a bit early in the day, but do you maybe want a drink? I’m sure as you watched over Lamby and I you’ve seen us play enough Knucklebones to know the rules. Why not play a few rounds with me?”

Narinder glares up at him. “Why do you still continue to pester me?” He demands.

“Well because it’s my job as disciple of the New Faith to ensure everyone within the flock is safe and happy.” Ratau points out. “And again, I dedicated my whole life to you. Things didn’t work out the way either of us hoped and we both hurt each other, but you still changed my life for the better. I’d hate for us to be enemies after everything. I guess it’s just my pesky mortal empathy clouding my mind again. Do you not want me to assist you, my lord?”

Staring up at him for several seconds in silence, Narinder rises to his feet, marching up to Ratau before glaring down at the old man. “The lamb has taken a liking to you. They trust your judgment and will do what you say.”

“I’m guessing you want me to vouch for you?” Ratau asks.

“Take me to them and demand that I am given better living conditions.” Narinder commands. “They have already stripped me of my godhood and power. I will not have them take my dignity too. They claim they wish to be kind, make them prove it by extending their generosity. Do this for me, and maybe I may forgive you for your traitorous actions, my former vessel.”

“As long as you promise to behave yourself on the walk, I think I can handle that.” Ratau nods up to his lord. “After hearing about the nice little conversation we had here by the river, I’m sure they’ll ease up on you and you’ll be living like a king in no time.”

“A king deserves a crown, does one not?” Narinder asks.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Ratau chuckles, leaning against his walking stick as he starts to make his way back up the path. “I’m sure it hurts now, it certainly hurt when you took the crown from me, but there’s plenty to enjoy in life without the weight of all that responsibility resting on your brow. If you still had your godhood, you’d be far too busy to spend a few hours resting beside a stream.”

“Were I still a god, I’d have the freedom to do whatever I wished.” Narinder sneers. “Now remain silent until we find that traitor. Your voice is grating on my ears.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Ratau nods, trying his best to hide his smile as Narinder follows behind him. He wouldn’t exactly call this a budding friendship, but Ratau’s content with the knowledge that Narinder probably wouldn’t kill him the first chance he got anymore. The grouch has a lot to say and wants to feel superior. Offering an ear to those in need is his job and he’s got the patience to put up with Narinder’s hostility. As long as he doesn’t start trying to choke him out again, he thinks he can make this work.

Stepping back into the clearing and rejoining the village, Narinder follows close behind Ratau as he cuts through the grounds. While most people would rush to Ratau’s side for guidance or to discuss things going around the village, his very tall and menacing friend has everyone keeping their distance. As much as Ratau dislikes upsetting the flock, he finds it’s rather convenient at the moment as he’s able to make his way through the village without too many distractions. Glancing around though, he finds no sign of Lamby.

Making his way to the center of the village, Ratau spots Richard again and makes his way towards him. He is standing beside the grand effigy of the lamb, slowly pecking away at a piece of cornbread the baker must have given him. Seeing Ratau approach him again, he smiles wide and steps forward to see what he needs before glancing upward and freezing at the sight of his tall, lanky shadow.

“O-oh… Hello again, Ratau.” Richard tries his best to ignore the cat looming over him. “I, uh, see you found who you were looking for.”

“Indeed I have.” Ratau nods, giving Richard a smile to show him that everything’s alright. “I had a chat with him, but now I have more that I must talk about with Lamby. Have they returned yet?”

“Oh, um…” After another nervous glance up at Narinder, Richard peeks around the shrine up towards the stairs overlooking the clearing. “I’m afraid not. I’m sure a crowd would have gathered after their return. Maybe they’re staying out longer than we thought.”

Narinder grumbles with displeasure behind Ratau, frightening Richard, but Ratau is quick to try and diffuse the situation. “Thank you very much for your help, Richard. Blessings upon you.”

Ratau bows to the helpful rooster and he bows back before quickly scurrying away. Ratau starts making his way towards the stairs at the top of the clearing. He guesses he’s going to have to brave the steps after all. It isn’t like Lamby to leave unannounced. For a moment he starts to worry that something might have happened to them. The god of death who waited for them both was no longer there. Have Aym and Baal taken on Narinder’s role? With no one watching over the afterlife, would Lamby have anywhere to go if they died?

“Keep moving.” A light shove from behind breaks Ratau’s concentration as Narinder grumbles impatiently behind him. “You clearly seem to have an idea of where they are. Bring me to them. I have remained patient enough, I tire of waiting.”

“I suppose we can check upstairs to see if they’re at the old shrine.” Ratau says, cutting across the village and scattering more confused and frightened followers as the cat continues to shadow him. “Though you’ll have to be patient with me a while longer, my leg’s been giving me trouble for a while now. Stairs and I don’t go well together anymore.”

“I am disgusted in myself that I let such a pathetic whelp like you best me.” Narinder says as they make their way to the stairs. He still remains behind Ratau for a while as he musters up the strength to start his climb, but once he sees how slowly Ratau takes each step, Narinder eventually passes him and starts to climb on his own.

“I don’t suppose you can help a poor old man up the stairs, could you?” Ratau calls up to him.

“I hope you fall.” Narinder barks back without looking.

“You aren’t going to get me to vouch for you if I trip and crack my head open you know?” Ratau reminds him. “I’m not a tool for you to throw away anymore. If you want me to help you, you have to earn it.”

Narinder stops and turns to glare down at him, but Ratau pays him no mind as he focuses on his balance to slowly push himself up another step. Just thirty or so more to go and he can sit down. He takes another deep breath and readies himself to take another step when a hand roughly grabs the hood of his robes and he’s lifted up into the air. He yelps, nearly dropping his walking stick as Narinder carries his small and frail frame up the rest of the stairs with one hand.

“You know, for a scrawny guy like you, you’re surprisingly strong.” Ratau comments. “I don’t know why you’re calling yourself weak. You could probably lift up anyone in the village if you wanted to.”

“In my prime I would have been able to rip that gold plated eyesore in the center of the village out of the earth and crush it in my grip.” Narinder says as he continues to climb the stairs. “Just because I’m the strongest among you insects does not mean I’m strong.”

“Well considering there’s only one god now, I’d argue being the second strongest is still-” Once they reach the top of the staircase, Narinder drops Ratau unceremoniously onto the ground, giving him only a second to break his fall. He grunts out in pain and watches as Narinder continues forward, leaving Ratau to pick himself up. “Prick…” He just has to stay patient with him. He’ll break through that hard exterior eventually. Dusting himself off and hissing out in pain, he tries to hurry after Narinder who’s run ahead.

Though he doesn’t go far.

Hurrying after him, Ratau finds that Lamby is still here, though they don’t seem to be moving. They stood in the center of the strange room leading towards Narinder’s old temple, but to Ratau’s surprise, the four doors leading to the domains of the various bishops are closed now.

“Lamb!” Narinder shouts at them, trying to earn their attention. “Has your wool grown over your ears? You are being addressed!”

Lamby remains motionless, their back still turned. Narinder grows furious, though he doesn’t approach them. Knowing that Lamby’s made multiple threats against him, it’s understandable that he’s not willing to do anything more than yell at them. Ratau walks past the angry cat, approaching his friend with growing concern and confusion.

“Lamby?” He says as he marches up beside them. “Is everything alright?”

Ratau jolts slightly when he finds that Lamby’s eyes are blood red and a black, viscous fluid spills down their cheeks. They appear frozen, staring up the stairs leading towards Narinder’s old temple. Looking up at the crown, even it seems unmoving and unreactive, its gaze locked in the same spot. Despite not making a sound, Lamby’s mouth moves in mute words as if they were speaking to someone.

“Lamby?!” Ratau reaches out and grabs hold of Lamby’s shoulders. “Lamby, are you alright?! What’s going on?!”

Lamby simply blinks and their eyes return to normal. They still remain focused on the stairs leading to the temple, but the moment they flick down to Ratau, they start to move. Their arms come up and grab hold of Ratau, pulling him close as they quickly shove him behind them. Ratau stumbles to keep his footing and when he turns to see what’s gotten into Lamby, he finds a sword in their hand as they continue to stare up at the temple with a look of unbridled fear in their eyes.

“Stay back, Ratau…” They say in a trembling voice, backing away. “I don’t know what this thing is or what it wants, but it… I don’t…”

“Lamby, what are you talking about?” Ratau reaches out for them. “What are you seeing?”

Lamby pries their eyes away from the stairs to stare at him in disbelief. “What do you mean what am I seeing?!” They ask, their voice cracking. “Can you not see it?!” They point their sword towards the stairs through the old gate. Ratau doesn’t see anything coming down, he sees nothing that has changed, but for whatever reason, staring up in that direction starts to give Ratau a headache and a strange fuzziness starts to take up the corners of his vision.

“What are you seeing?” Ratau is surprised when a concerned tone escapes from Narinder’s lips. Looking back at him, his third eye is squeezed shut and he’s shielding his eyes away from the old gate. He seems distressed, but it’s clear that he can’t quite see what Lamby’s worried about.

Instead of explaining themself to either Narinder or Ratau, Lamby’s eyes lock on to the cat and they march towards him, sword still drawn. Narinder takes notice of this and tries to back away, but Lamby quickly closes the distance and reaches up towards him, grabbing the collar of his robe and yanking him down to eye level.

“What did you do after I killed the bishops?!” They demand, their voice cracking with rage and fear.

“What does it ma-”

“What did you do?!” Lamby repeats, much louder and clearer this time. “The bishops, their cultists, what did you do to the souls of the dead?! Are they resting with the others or not?!”

“Of course they aren’t…” Narinder tells them, his brows furrowing. “Traitorous scum like them don’t deserve it. I will not grace them with the peace of death or the eternal rest of my domain. What I gave them instead is a far more suitable punishment for-”

Pulling on his collar with all their might, Lamby rears their head back before smashing it into Narinder’s face. Narinder immediately drops to the ground, his hands flying to his face.

“Lamby?!” Ratau blurts out in shock, hurrying forward to try and get them under control. “What the hell’s gotten into you, kid?!”

“The bishops aren’t dead!” Lamby turns on their heels, red splattered on their forehead. “All of their cultists, there had to be thousands… tens of thousands… They aren’t dead, they’re being…”

“Deep breaths, Lamby.” Ratau tries his best to calm them down. This was something serious. The kid was wild eyed and panicked. “What are you seeing, what’s going on? Give it to me straight, Lamby.”

“Shamura was right.” Lamby is quick to say, looking up and staring off at the gate to Narinder’s old temple. “The Old Gods are angry. We took the crown to keep Narinder from screwing things up but he’s been ruining things for as long as we were serving him!”

“You lie!” Narinder blurts out from the ground. Looking down at him, Ratau finds a look of pure fear on his face as blood streams from his nose. “I killed them myself! They are dead and gone, they cannot come back!”

“Then what am I looking at?” Lamby asks, their voice quiet and afraid. “You really don’t see it? It’s right there. Pure darkness wrapped in blinding white, eyes staring at me between twinkling stars. There’s more behind it, but I can’t make any more of it out. It’s stronger than me, stronger than all of the bishops combined. The Red Crown knows exactly what this thing is, it’s staring at its creator.”

Ratau looks back at the stairs leading to the old temple and still sees nothing, though turning his attention in the general direction Lamy’s looking in brings back his headache and the fuzziness. Something was there, he could feel it, but for whatever reason, Lamby was the only one who could see it. He thought all this godly business was over, that with the death of the bishops they’d be free to build everything up without the oppressive rule of the gods, but now something far greater than the bishops is here and according to Lamby, it is not happy.

“What does it want?” Ratau asks, looking away from the gate to return his attention to the terrified Lamby. “Is there something we can do to make it happy or at least leave us alone?” Serving under some new god was the very last thing he wanted to do, but seeing Lamby so scared after they went and slaughtered an entire pantheon of gods has him rattled. He doubts the old gods will go down easy the second time around.

“Everyone we felled in our crusades…” Lamby mumbles, still staring off at nothing. “They’re restless, stuck between life and death as they’ve been turned away at the gates of the afterlife. They must either be brought back or put to rest. I have to find the bishops, all of the cultists I killed, everyone Narinder refused to assist, and give them a proper death.”

“That sounds like a really tall order.” Ratau says. “That has to be years of work.”

“It recognizes me as the god of death.” Lamby says. “It is my duty. If I do not correct this grave error…” Lamby doesn’t say anything more, but Ratau sees that they’re trembling slightly. He steps forward and wraps his arms around them, desperate to comfort them and hold them still.

“Nothing’s gonna happen.” Ratau assures them. “It probably sucks to hear that your fighting days aren’t over, but it sounds like you’re going to be helping these people. The peace of the afterlife has always been something that brought comfort to our flock. Knowing that all these people have been denied it…”

Ratau glares down at Narinder who pushes himself off the floor, blood still spilling from his nose. The previous god of death, the one who was crowned to lay those to rest, discriminated against those he had grievances with. Denying his siblings the peace of death was one thing, but the countless thousands who served under them, mortals who were desperate to worship for safety and purpose?

“I need to go.” Lamby says, pulling themself out of Ratau’s embrace. “The doors are sealed again. The old gods demand a sacrifice to open them once more. I need time to think and prepare.” They step away from him, walking back towards the stairs Ratau and Narinder just came up. “I will be in my room, but please, leave me be. I will come find you when I’m ready to speak.”

Lamby quickly hurries down the stairs, leaving Ratau and Narinder behind. Ratau looks back towards the gate, feeling his head go fuzzy again. There was something right there, watching him. He could feel it. He turns away, feeling his fur stand on end as he swears he can still feel its eyes on him. Looking away from the gate, he finds Narinder glaring at him with his two main eyes while his third squints to stare at the gate. There’s clear tension in his body as he wipes away at his bloodied nose, but the current emotion dominating his face is anger.

“You did not make the demands I requested of you, rat.” He grumbles.

“My lord, that should be the least of your worries right now.” Ratau tells him flat out. “Honestly, you’re lucky Lamby isn’t having you sleep in a ditch somewhere. You screwed up. I understand the desire to abolish death and let people live forever against the laws of the old gods, but straight up denying those you don’t like the peace of death is probably the most insane, inhumane thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a real bastard, you know that?”

Narinder has no retorts or threats to bite back with. He remains silent, pinching his nose to try and stop the bleeding as he stares Ratau down. If he wasn’t such a monstrous, dangerous beast of a man, Ratau would pity him for his miserable predicament, but he really has earned every single bit of this.

Who is he kidding, he’s too empathetic for his own good. He still pities him.

“I need a drink.” Ratau sighs, turning away and moving towards the stairs. “My brother still has medical supplies to tend to your nose if you want a drink too.”

“Why would I ever want to share a drink with traitorous scum li-”

“Whatever, stay here and bleed then.” Ratau scoffs. “You were a miserable excuse of a god and are now an even more pathetic man. Lamby’s making the effort to do better after all the terrible things they did. Unless you want to wallow in your own misery forever, you gotta make that effort too. Farewell, my lord.”

Ratau continues on his way, slowing down as he descends down his first step. Going down the stairs is much easier than going up and he’s sure someone from within the village will see him struggling and meet him halfway. He makes it down about ten steps before he hears someone descending down the steps behind him. Looking back, he finds Narinder shadowing behind him once more, glaring down at him as he continues to hold his nose.

Maybe giving Narinder a drink is a bad idea, but it’s a start. It wasn’t pleasant to learn that the lord he dedicated himself to was such a spiteful, sad sack of shit. He’s helped pull a lot of people out of bad situations though. Narinder has surrounded himself with hatred, but the conversation they shared at the river shows that, while he might not realize it, Narinder is desperate for someone to talk to.

As much as Ratau hated the guy, he’s eager to loosen the lord’s lips with some drink to hear what are no doubt some wild stories that the god has saved up after his impossibly long existence.

”Fickle beast, do you not feel how the boundary betwixt this world and the next has begun to fray? You are artless in your duties, infant god. You bestow upon the bishops death, yet deny them rest. Bearer of the Red Crown, set this right. Forced are they to relive their final agonies; move them on, as is your duty as the new God of Death. Crusade once more. Give peace to the bishops trapped between life and death.”

The words echo over and over again in Lamby’s head, a constant command pounding between their ears. When they first saw it, they couldn’t make sense of a single word as it spoke in tongues long since forgotten. The crown knew though. They could feel its fear as it made sense of the words for them. The blinding heavens beyond the gate, the eyes and stars blinking in and out of the void that makes up its head, they had stood before an old god.

They couldn’t stop trembling.

Fear, grief, and fury all mixed together in a vile concoction within them. They were terrified of this divine beast and what it would mean for them. They were overwhelmed with guilt and horror at the thought of every single cultist they had slain being endlessly tortured in undeath. And they were furious all over again as they found themselves in a situation they wanted no part in all thanks to that damned cat.

Shamura was right to lock that spiteful, sadistic bastard away. Lamby wonders if the love they still had for their brother still exists, knowing that they were being tortured for eternity by his hands. How many other people have been denied peace? The dissenters that Lamby was told to kill? The non-believers who Lamby rescued but never converted?

They told Amdusias that Tana would be waiting for him on the other side. They can’t say that for sure anymore and the fear that he might be all alone in the afterlife wondering why he was lied to fills Lamby with so much dread that they want to puke.

They wanted to be a benevolent lord, to be the kind, comforting presence that they were missing their whole life until they started their service. Instead, just as Narinder poisoned their mind and convinced them to harm and take advantage of their flock, he made them into an instrument of unimaginable pain and suffering for all who dared oppose him. This was worse than the complete annihilation that Shamura feared they would bring on. Much worse.

”Make it right.”

Reaching up for their crown, Lamby takes hold of it and stares down into its single red eye. It had already confided in them that it hates this too. It was made for one purpose, to serve the God of Death and lay the dead to rest. It did not care for Lamby’s desire to be a benevolent lord, to save people instead of enslaving them. All it wanted to do was its job, and right now, its creator was demanding that this injustice was corrected.

That job would require them to make more hard choices they didn’t want to make. Sacrifices needed to be made, both to feed the crown more power and to open the sealed off gates to the lords domains. They didn’t want to. They didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they also didn’t trust anyone else with this power. Ratau was the only other person they would return the crown to, but…

”Weak…”

Lamby glares down at the crown. He was not weak. He was the bravest, kindest, most patient man Lamby’s ever met. If anyone should be worshiped, it should be him. Lamby’s come to learn time and time again though that kind men like him are chewed up and spit out by the monsters of this world. He isn’t a fighter, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but countless people want to hurt him. Lamby knew how to fight though, they were forced to learn. Even though they rose against him and overthrew him, Narinder had succeeded in making them into a killer.

They never wanted this, not any of this. They never wanted the crown, to serve under a lord, they never even wanted to change anything. All they ever wanted was a quiet life where they felt loved.

They wear the crown now. Countless people are suffering thanks to their mistakes and Narinder’s manipulation. They had to play the role of a god, of a killer.

The only solace they had was the knowledge that they’d be granting the people they kill true rest and that they won’t have to see that damned cat when they cross over to the other side.

Chapter Text

It took Lamby hours to recollect their nerves.

Ever since the betrayal in the afterlife, they find that it’s hard to keep their emotions in check. Something broke within them during that terrible battle, something that the Red Crown can’t fix. They should be fearless in the face of death. The task the old gods have laid before them, while daunting, shouldn’t leave them this rattled, yet it does. Their hands tremble, an annoying tick that comes up time and time again since they’ve returned from that terrible ritual.

”Mortal terror.”

”Unbecoming of a god.”

They know from experience that gods can feel fear. They saw it in the eyes of every god they slaughtered. As much as they tout that they’re beyond mortals in every way, they are plagued with the same gripes and failings as any other person. Selfish, greedy, cowardly. Was it wrong for a god to feel guilt? To feel uncertain and scared? There were hundreds before the Old Faith, gods of all kinds and creeds. Surely not all of them were as terrible, though only the most ruthless survived in the end.

They’ve proven that they could do both, that their hands could care and kill. With the task bestowed upon them by the old gods, their mercilessness against the undying souls of the Old Faith will be the greatest mercy they can bestow.

They needed to prepare a sermon. It’s been a while since they’ve given one, the last was back before they set out to release Narinder. They have spoken personally to those who followed them there and the families of those who were hurt, but everyone was waiting on them to address what happened to the whole flock. There’s also the topic of the cat that they’ve constantly brushed under the rug. They need to figure out exactly what they’re going to do with him.

Then they need to find out what they’re going to do about the locked doors. Sacrifices needed to be made, and while there may still be those devout enough to give their lives, Lamby doesn’t feel they’ve earned those lives. They still have so much to atone for, so much pain they still have to heal after hurting their flock for so long.

They needed help to address the flock. Rising to their feet, Lamby leaves their chambers and ascends the stairway to go find Ratau.

They’ve been very busy trying to manage the cult and care for the wounded to spend much time with the old man. Ratoo assured him that he was healing well, but he needed his rest. They were far too shocked to notice at the time, but Ratau seemed to be doing much better when he found them in front of the gates. They’d love to sit down and talk to him now that he’s up and moving again. Maybe a few dice games will help clear their mind.

Stepping out of the temple and into the village square, they find that it’s dark outside. They aren’t sure how long they’ve been hidden away in their room, but it was for much longer than they would have liked. The fires still smolder though and in the distance they spot villagers running late night errands and hurrying home. It was late in the evening but there’s a chance that Ratau might still be awake. Though, even if it was the dead of night, Ratau would probably gladly wake himself up to chat.

They’re relieved to find candle light shining through his windows. Marching up to his door, Lamby gives it a couple of knocks. It takes a few moments and Lamby hears a hushed conversation behind the door, but eventually it opens and Lamby is greeted by the kindly old man.

“Lamby!” Despite the late hour, Ratau steps forward and hugs Lamby tight. They already feel so much better now. “Are you doing alright, kiddo? You gave me quite a scare earlier today. You still got a bit of muck on your cheeks there.” Licking his thumb, Ratau reaches up and smears something off their scarred cheek, his thumb coming up black which he quickly rubs off of the doorframe beside him.

“Yes, I’m feeling much better.” Lamby tells him with a smile. “I need some time to talk and unwind. I think I have a very eventful day ahead of me tomorrow. Can I come in?”

Ratau nods and takes a step back to hold the door open for them, but he hesitates. “I um… already have a guest over, one that’s being a bit unruly. Maybe we keep this outside?”

“Oh? Who is it?” Lamby asks, trying to step inside. Ratau makes way for them, stepping aside and waiting by the door.

Lamby’s good mood sours almost immediately when they find Narinder in the house.

Thankfully, he appears to be unconscious. He’s slumped over on the table in the center of Ratau’s room, an empty bottle resting on the table beside his hand. Ratoo is sitting at the table as well, shuffling a deck of cards while casting an occasional glance at the sleeping cat beside him. He does not look pleased to be in his company, though that changes when he notices Lamby.

“Please tell me you’re here to drag this sad drunk out of our house.” He pleads.

“What is…” Lamby clenches their fists to keep them still. “What is he doing in your house?” They ask. They swear, if he barged in here and was harassing their friends.

“I needed a drink to wind down after what happened up by the gates.” Ratau explains, stepping inside after them. “Nari here was looking pretty miserable after… well, everything. I had Ratoo help fix up his nose and offered him a drink as long as he was good company. Probably not my brightest move. He’s a complete lightweight, he only got a couple swigs down before he started getting all mopey and whiney. I probably shouldn’t have let him down the whole bottle, but I think you can agree that he’s a lot more manageable like this.”

Even with Ratau’s explanation, Lamby is still left slightly dumbfounded by what they’re seeing. After the stunt they pulled in the temple, they didn’t think he’d go anywhere near Ratau. Though… now that they’re thinking about it, he was with Ratau when they found them at the gate.

“What were you doing before you found me?” Lamby asks. Was he being harassed? Did Ratau come looking for them to make Narinder go away?

“Narinder was trying to use me to try and demand better living conditions from you.” Ratau says. “He’s pieced together that you really like me and listen to me so as long as he stays in my good graces, he might actually get what he wants here. After a somewhat pleasant chat by the river, I figured I could at least let you know that he isn’t happy with what he has.”

“So he wasn’t bothering you?” Lamby asks, glancing back at the unconscious cat.

“I was bothering him.” Ratau corrects. “He certainly didn’t have anything nice to say about me during our chat, but it was the closest thing to a pleasant time I’ve had with him since I wore the crown. I figure if you’re going to keep him here, I should make the effort to make him feel welcome. It’s my job to care for the flock after all.”

“Even after what he did?” Lamby grumbles, their hands still curled up into fists. Such a vile creature doesn’t deserve to be treated with so much kindness after hurting so many.

Lamby suddenly finds their hand held in Ratau’s. “Why don’t we speak outside?” Ratau asks. “I can tell a lot is on your mind. Why don’t we speak in private in the fresh air? I’m going to have to clean this place up a little and Narinder’s stinking up the place.”

“Alright.” Lamby nods, turning to leave with him out the door.

“Hey wait!” Ratoo speaks up, not quite shouting but still speaking loud enough to get their attention. “Don’t leave me alone here with this drunkard. Can you at least take him with you?”

Lamby lifts a hand, calling upon the crown’s power. Within seconds, a rift opens up beneath the chair that Narinder is sitting on, swallowing it and the cat atop it into the void below. Narinder might have a hard landing when he arrives at his home, but Lamby doesn't care. He was out of the rats’ hair now.

“Thank you, Lord Lamby.” Ratoo nods his head, reaching over to grab the empty bottle where Narinder sat only moments ago. “Don’t keep Ratau out for long. He still needs his rest.”

“I’m a full grown man, Ratoo.” Ratau laughs through the door. “I’ll sleep when I want to.”

“I won’t keep him long.” Lamby promises the older of the two brothers before stepping out with Ratau. Out in the cool night air, Lamby takes a deep breath. Just seeing Narinder soured their mood considerably, but now they can relax. Ratau stretches himself out beside them before leaning against the wall of his house.

“Before we start, I want to ask you something, Lamby.” Ratau says, tugging his silken robes a little tighter against the chill night air. “Why are you keeping Narinder around? You clearly don’t like him. Hearing what he did, I don’t think anyone in the world would fault you for abandoning him. He has his freedom, he isn’t dangerous anymore, so why keep him here? Why not turn him away to figure things out for himself?”

“To prove I’m better than him and the other gods.” Lamby says. “To prove that I can forgive him for what he did to me.”

“To who?” Ratau asks. “I’m pretty sure everyone here agrees you’re way better than any of the gods that came before you.”

“To myself I guess.” Lamby mumbles.

“Do you doubt yourself?” Ratau leans off the wall to reach out for them, taking their hand into his.

“I don’t want to be like them.” Lamby says with a sigh. “I’m not even sure I want to be a lord anymore, but I’m stuck in this position. I’ve already hurt people, I almost killed you, and with this new development, I’m going to have to go crusading again. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it all over again but-”

“Of course you’re strong enough.” Ratau tries to assure them. “You-”

“It demands sacrifices.” Lamby interrupts him. “The old gods, the crown. Whether I like it or not, more people have to die.”

“Oh…” Ratau falls silent. Lamby didn’t need to explain anything more. He glances up at the crown on their head, meeting its eye with his.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone here.” Lamby says. “Even if they came up to me and willingly offered themselves, I wouldn’t be able to take their lives in good faith. They were brainwashed just as I was and convinced that pushing themselves past the breaking point and dying for their lord was the only way to live. I don’t want anyone to die for me. I should be protecting them, making sure nothing hurts them. What godhood demands and what I want are two completely different things.”

“Hmm…” Ratau nods grimly, just as perturbed by this development. Maybe there’s some other way. Sin can feed the crown too, maybe they can try to absolve others within their flock of their misdeeds, but they doubt anyone has committed sins as grave as they have. Well, there’s Narinder, and while drawing his sins from his body would be a fitting punishment, would that make them any better? Narinder punished those he didn’t like with undeath and endless torture, abusing his god given power. They’d be no better than him for using their incredible strength to hurt him when he can no longer fight back.

“What if they didn’t die for you?” Ratau asks, drawing Lamby out of their thoughts. “What if they go out like Amdusias did? What if they sacrificed themselves for their friends and family, to help others who are in need?”

“Hmm?” Lamby tilts their head.

“I didn’t pry myself off that cross to save my lord. I did it to save my child.” Ratau tells them. “Amdusias yearned to return to the afterlife and reunite with his old friend and knew that he could help my brother in the process. I understand your fear, you don’t want people hurting themselves because they feel they need to. If they hear that there are people in pain though, that their friends and loved ones are trapped in this strange purgatory you described, maybe they’ll be willing to lay down and rest if it means giving you the strength to save those people too.”

“I don’t know…” Lamby shakes their head. “Even then, I don’t know if I can take their lives with a clear conscience.”

“Just be honest with your flock.” Ratau tells them. “Again, many see you as this flawless, beautiful lord, but you’re still just a kid. You aren’t an infallible, all powerful being; you’re just as scared as the rest of us. Tell them what you saw, tell them what you need to do, and tell them that you’ll need help. You aren’t commanding them to bow at your feet, you're asking for whatever strength they can spare you. I’m sure many would offer whatever they can if they know it will help people who are suffering and, considering where you found some of these folks, they might be desperate to see the friends and family they lost along the way. Narinder is no longer in power, we can all rest assured that we will find peace in the afterlife without the risk of a vindictive lord stealing that away from us.”

”There is beauty in death.”

”Do you not wish to make the world beautiful?”

Lamby lets out a low sigh. Their bloodied hands were gentle and kind. While they were forced to perform grim work, they would do it with care. Amdusias died with a smile on his face, happy to know that his peace bought someone else peace as well. Lamby will make sure to let everyone who does offer themselves know just how much they appreciate their sacrifice and how much it will mean to the countless souls lost in limbo.

They had originally made their way to the gate to try and find Aym and Baal and return to the afterlife, to make sure it hadn’t fallen into disrepair. The old gods had stopped them though, not trusting them to manage the domain while there were so many locked out of it. Lamby prays that the dead who are still there are not lost without someone to guide them.

“Now enough of this grim talk.” Ratau says. “It’s late, I should be going to bed, but if Ratoo hasn’t put everything away, would you care to play a game or two before I retire for the night? You’ll have plenty of time to prepare your sermon while everyone’s asleep.”

“I’d love to.” Lamby tells him, moving to enter the house and have at least some fun tonight before the sun rises again.

Rising early as he always does, Ratau steps outside and moves to perform his few chores and make the few preparations that Lamby asked of him the night before. He builds up the fires again around the shrine and in the kitchens. He knocks on the doors of the heavier sleepers in the village to help them along in waking up, earning an equal mix of thank yous and curses from the people inside.

He’d typically be done by this point, but there were two more things he needed to do at Lamby’s request. First things first, he needed to check on Narinder.

The lord got a little carried away last night and Ratau isn’t even sure if he was aware of it. He complained all night about how the wine tasted awful, boasting that he used to have a collection of bottles aged for hundreds of years in his treasuries, but he kept drinking from it. A few swigs in he was noticeably tipsy, a few more he started rambling on angrily about his siblings, and halfway through the bottle he got real quiet. Ratau really should have taken the bottle from him at that point, but seeing the pained, unmistakable look of heartbreak on the lord’s face, Ratau allowed him to drown his sorrows. Underneath the very abrasive and violent surface, it was clear that the lord was hurting inside.

Ratau approaches a run down cabin near the edge of the clearing, close by to where the pillories used to reside. It was an older home which wasn’t built up to the standards of the others. It was by no means awful though, it was certainly better than the tents everyone had when Ratau first left this place. Walking up to the door, Ratau gives it three quick knocks.

“Fugoff!” He gets an immediate, albeit slurred response. “I’wll beat you with dis chair!”

“Good morning to you too, my lord.” Ratau says through the door. “I actually forgot that you took my chair with you, thank you for reminding me.” There’s an agonized groan on the other side of the door. “Sounds like you’re having a rough morning. Would you like a drink?”

“No!” Narinder is very quick to blurt out. “Nnomore…”

“Of water, my lord.” Ratau elaborates. “I’m sure you must have had quite the tolerance in your prime, but you knocked yourself out with only one bottle last night. A tall glass of water to wash the taste out of your mouth will do you some good.”

“Go’way!” Narinder mumbles. “Stutid rat!”

Well great, the cat’s hungover now. That’s a new problem to deal with, but it’s manageable. He’ll probably be hidden away in his quiet little cabin for most of the day which means he won’t be causing problems for anyone. Leaving the cabin for a moment, Ratau makes his way back to the kitchen to fetch an apple to snack on and a cup of water. Returning to the cabin with breakfast in tow, Ratau lets himself in to drop it off.

That probably wasn’t a good idea as the moment the door opens, there’s a loud hiss from inside and his stolen chair is weakly tossed in his direction. He quickly backs away, saving his foot from the toppled over chair. Inside, he finds Narinder half slumped over on the floor, apparently having fallen with the effort of throwing the chair at him. Narinder glares up at him, though none of his three eyes are able to focus on him as they all strain at the early morning light coming in through the open door.

“That’s on me. You did say you were gonna hit me with the chair.” Ratau sighs, setting the apple and the cup down on the floor before grabbing his chair. “I’ll be on my way now.”

Shutting the door and scurrying away from the cabin with furniture in hand, that’s one of his two extra tasks completed. He makes a quick pitstop back home to drop off his chair before walking towards the temple. Other people were starting to wake now, it wouldn’t be long before everyone was summoned for the sermon. Letting himself inside the temple, he finds it’s already lit up and Lamby is pacing on the stand behind the lectern.

“Narinder’s nursing a hangover and probably won’t show up for the sermon.” Ratau informs them as he walks down the large hall, passing by the pews until he comes up to the first row where he takes a seat. “He gave me my chair back too.”

“That seems awfully nice of him.” Lamby muses. “He threw it at you, didn’t he?”

“He missed.” Ratau says. “Also, I barged into his house to bring him water to sober him up after he explicitly threatened to hit me with said chair if I kept bugging him.” Lamby grumbles but continues their pacing. “Are you still nervous about the sermon?”

“No.” Lamby shakes their head, but they look unsure of themself immediately after. “I know what I’m going to say, but I feel like I need to get to work today. Ever since I spoke to that god, my head’s been swimming with information that I’ve been trying to piece together. They’re getting impatient. Every day that passes is another day of torment for those poor souls and another day where the line between life and death blurs. After the sermon, I might have to depart for the Darkwood again and leave you in charge.”

“Ah, that’s quite a bit to be nervous about.” Ratau hums. “And you said to open the door to the Darkwood again-”

“I require a sacrifice.” Lamby sighs. “Someone’s going to have to follow me up those steps and they won’t come back down with me.” They stop their pacing, standing by the lectern before glancing down at Ratau.

“You’re not thinking of bringing Narinder with you, right?”

“That’d be so easy, wouldn’t it?” Lamby shakes their head. “I’m not taking him though, not unless he forces me to. This is his mess that I’m being forced to clean up, but I’m going to fix this without having to cause unnecessary harm to anyone, even if he deserves it.”

“Well…” Ratau scratches at his head. “You know, for someone who wants to try and forgive Narinder, you sure talk about how much he deserves all these different punishments.” Lamby’s expression sours. “And I don’t blame you, screw that guy, but if you really want to be the bigger man here, you aren’t doing a great job.”

“I sound like him, don’t I?” Lamby says with a horrified tone.

“Oh, no.” Ratau shakes his head. “Even at your angriest, you’re still much nicer than he is. You do let your anger take hold whenever it comes to him though. It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Lamby nods grimly. “Maybe you can tag along when I next try to speak with him, clear the air between you two a bit. He’s a grouch, but I think I’m getting through to him.”

“He threw a chair at you.” Lamby points out.

“Trust me, I’m making progress.” Ratau assures. “I told him last night that he has to put in the effort to make his life here less miserable. You didn’t bring him here just so he could be a constant thorn in your side, you’re going to have to put in the effort to make something work too. I admire your decision to free our lord once he was no longer a threat, but he’s going to make you just as miserable as he is if you don’t at least try to find common ground.”

“Alright…” Lamby says, taking a deep breath. “I’ll consider it. I don’t know what condition I’ll be in when I return, but if I have the energy to spare dealing with him, I’ll try to talk to him.”

“In the meantime, I’ll try and keep him under watch while you’re away.” Ratau says. “Now, would you like me to ring the bell?”

“I can get it.” Lamby tells him. “You don’t have to get up. Get comfortable, it’s gonna be a long one.”

Ratau lets himself relax in his seat, leaning back and resting his eye as Lamby rings the bell atop the temple to summon everyone. The kid’s a whole heap of troubled thoughts. They really need time to get away from all this nonsense and make sense of everything, but they have no choice but to get back to work. He’s going to have to work overtime to make sure there’s nothing for them to worry about when they return home. They need all the peace they can get.

The doors behind him are pushed open as Lamby’s followers flood into the temple. Many yawn and grumble as it is still very early in the morning, but with how dire Lamby’s work is, they cannot afford to waste too much time. As the followers get closer, they must take notice of the grim look on Lamby’s face as everyone is quick to find a seat and remain quiet. It isn’t long until the pews are filled. Glancing back, Ratau makes a quick headcount to find almost everyone is here, though Narinder is of course absent.

“I gather you all here with grave news.” Lamby announces once the temple falls silent, looking over their flock. “Though to even make sense of it to you, I must be transparent about a lot of things I’ve kept from you.”

Confused mumbles spread throughout the flock. For the few sermons that Ratau’s been present for since he came here, Lamby’s always kept up a façade of optimism and control. Lamby wasn’t putting up the act anymore though and their following was quick to notice. Lamby hasn’t even explained what’s going on yet but their flock knew it was deadly serious.

“Those who have been around for a long while may remember when I spoke of a god known as The One Who Waits.” Lamby starts. “While my teachings have changed quite drastically over the recent years, all of this started in service to him as I was his chosen vessel. I spread his teachings to you and internalized those teachings myself as I spoke with the lord. You put your faith in me and I put my faith in the lord… but that faith was misplaced. The One Who Waits led me astray, and through my own inability to see the lies he fed me, I hurt you as well.”

The silence in the crowd is broken as hushed conversations spread amongst the flock. Some speak up, trying to argue for and against Lamby. Some still cling to the belief that they’ve never done anything wrong while some brave souls actually speak up against them. Arguments start amongst them, but a raised hand from Lamby settles them all as they continue to speak.

“I’m sure you’ve all taken notice of the drastic changes that have happened over the past month. The destruction of the pillories and the gallows, your reduced working hours, the decreased frequency of these sermons. While the lord I once served had nefarious plans for us all, I still wanted to help you. I still wear his crown, and through its power, I fought to protect you all from his wrath. Those of you who followed me to his temple, who suffered as I fought to take control away from the vengeful god, you all can attest to this.”

“Is…” Someone nearby where Ratau is sitting, a member of the flock tentatively asks a question to their lord. “Is that who the new stranger is? Is that him?!”

“He was a vengeful, spiteful, sadistic god who shirked his duties and denied people access to the afterlife if they were not faithful.” Lamby says with notable scorn in their voice, something which was very uncommon based on the reactions the tone earns from their flock. “With him stripped of his power, I am the new lord, and while he has committed countless crimes against us… I will not let my anger cloud my judgment or get in the way of my duties. He is stripped of his power, he can no longer hurt us, though if he tries, he will be punished accordingly. I serve no one anymore, I am your true god, and after growing up under the tyranny of the Old Faith and being fed lies from my previous lord, I strive to be the lord you all deserve. A kind and forgiving one, one that you will never feel fear under, one you worship out of love and understanding instead of necessity and terror.”

“That being said, our toil is not over. The lord I usurped hurt a lot of people. The cool, peaceful plains of the afterlife were bared off to countless souls, people who are now suffering because of his cruelty. As the newly recognized God of Death, it is my duty to lay them to their final rest, but… I cannot do it alone. Knowing what I did to you while under the previous lord’s rule, working you to the bone, punishing you for disbelieving, I cannot in good conscience ask for your help, but my crown requires sacrifices. I cannot even begin my journey to help the poor souls who have been denied death without first sending someone away. All I can promise is that for any who are brave and generous enough, you will never be shown the cruelty The One Who Waits showed others. All will be granted a peaceful rest, no matter where their faith lies.”

Lamby falls silent as the weight of their words settles over everyone. Looking around, Ratau tries to read the room. There’s an uneasy look on everyone’s face. In this short sermon, Lamby admitted that they led everyone astray before changing their course and introduced the fear that the painless, peaceful rest that awaited them in the afterlife could have been held back from those who weren’t faithful enough. Both were incredibly terrifying things to come to terms with, but even so, some people bowed their heads in reverence to their lord. Lamby wasn’t wearing their usual smile, pretending everything was alright when it clearly wasn’t.

They were being completely honest with everyone, allowing themself to be vulnerable as they admit their mistakes. There might be some who can’t accept them anymore, who are disillusioned by all this, but as Ratau scans the crowd, he finds that most seem to be accepting of everything. When had Leshy ever asked for help? When had Kallamar ever opened up to his followers? Lamby might still be young and they aren’t perfect, but they were trying their best and the home they’ve built for everyone here has brought genuine comfort and safety to those who had everything taken from them.

Rising from the pews, an old hedgehog woman clears her throat. “Is… Is Breryn on the other side? Will he be waiting for me?” Ratau does not know who Breryn is, but he does know who this woman is. Fion was one of the recruits Lamby brought back long ago when this village was first being built, back before he left to his cabin for the first time. She had always been a reclusive and shy woman, never really breaking out of her shell. She looked absolutely haunted when she was first introduced to the village, but looking at her now, she seems to have found some sense of resolve.

“Fion… I won’t lie to you, I don’t know if your husband is there.” Lamby tells her. “He should be, it was the lord of death’s duty to lay him to rest, but I cannot say for certain if he’s there. All I can promise is that if he isn’t, I will do everything in my power to put his soul to rest, but I can’t help anyone unless I can get the gates open.”

Fion falls silent as everyone around her starts to whisper amongst themselves. Only a few months ago, someone offering themself up for sacrifice wouldn’t have been a big deal. It was in service to the lord after all. After Lamby’s admission that the lord they worshiped was a fraud and that the afterlife was a promise not everyone got, Fion’s willingness to offer herself up carried much more weight.

“Just…” Silence fills the temple once more as she settles on her decision. “If he’s not there, find him quickly. Every year without him feels longer and longer. If there’s even a chance that he’s hurting… I want to see him or help you find him, even if it means saying goodbye to everyone here.”

“Then say your goodbyes.” Lamby tells her with a heavy heart. “The sermon is over. If anyone has questions, grievances they’d like to air out, or you simply wish to say goodbye to a dear friend, do so now.”

The temple erupts with conversation, some immediately rising to approach Lamby with questions, some slipping away outside to continue their business. Most make their way to Fion though, something that Ratau can immediately tell she isn’t too comfortable with. Her neighbors offer her nothing but assuring words, however. She’s been with them for almost as long as the village existed. She was quiet and reclusive, but even with how much she tried to mind her business, she’s clearly left an impression on people. There were quite a few who didn’t want to see her go.

Lamby remains on the stand, addressing the concerns of those who had questions. Some asked what the change in leadership would mean for the village and what new rules might be put in place. Others asked about Narinder, questioning Lamby on why he was with them in the village and what their plans were with him. A few even asked to leave, understandably untrusting in Lamby after being lied to for so long.

The crowds eventually dissipate and after Lamby dismisses the last few people who had questions for them, only three remain; Lamby, Ratau, and Fion. Rising from his pew, Ratau takes a moment to stretch and pop his back before walking over to Fion. She remains seated on the pews, overwhelmed with the attention her decision earned her. Ratau isn’t sure why she’s so surprised. While she didn’t talk much, she certainly wasn’t unpleasant to be around. Of course people would miss her.

“What you’re doing is incredibly brave, Fion.” Ratau tells her, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “Even with the assurances of our lord, it can’t be easy to make a decision like this, especially after being burned by our previous lord… literally in my case.”

“I don’t really feel brave.” Fion says, taking Ratau’s hand. “I just feel tired.”

“You won’t be for much longer.” Lamby promises as they step down from the stand, joining Ratau’s side. “Thank you for your help and for trusting me. I promise, if Breryn isn’t already waiting for you to join him, I will bring him to you as fast as I can. I don’t know if there’s any way I can repay you for this, but I-”

“It’s ok.” Fion is quick to stop them, reaching up and wiping her eyes. “I don’t need anything else. I just need Breryn back. If doing this lets me see him again, I’ll go.” Looking up at Lamby, Fion tilts her head. “Will you be there? The few who you brought back said that the cat was there to greet them. Won’t you visit too?”

Lamby doesn’t reply for a while and glancing over at them, Ratau finds a look of worry on their face. Ratau hadn’t thought about that. Who was watching over the afterlife? The two disciples? The old gods who stand at the gate of the old temple? When all of this passes, when everyone is put to rest and the old gods are appeased, will Lamby have to depart for the afterlife to rule over it just as Narinder did?

“I’ll visit you.” Lamby promises after a long pause. “I won’t ever forget what you’ve done for me. Are you ready, or do you need more time? This is your only chance to complete unfinished business.”

“I’m ready… Though, I don’t suppose we can stay for breakfast before we go?” Fion asks.

“Oh you can absolutely stay for breakfast.” Ratau chuckles, though the weight of what’s going on quickly kills it in his throat. “You can have whatever you want, considering it will be your last meal.” Seeing that his attempts at lightening the mood aren’t working, Ratau sighs. “This stuff is never going to get easier on us, is it?”

“No.” Lamby shakes their head. “And honestly, I hope it stays that way. The other gods might see you people as nothing but fodder and food, but you’re so much more than that to me. You’re my friends, not my subjects.” Taking in a deep breath, Lamby tries to compose themself. “Go get yourself breakfast, Fion. When you’re ready, I’ll take you to the gates. And again… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Lamby.” Fion bows her head. “And thank you too.” Fion turns to leave them and Ratau, heading outside to rejoin the others and enjoy her last meal. Left alone, the lord and their disciple both let out a deep sigh.

“Ratau?” Ratau looks over at Lamby. They don’t need to ask, he already knows what they want to hear.

“I already told you what I think about all this after Amdusias died.” Ratau tells them. “This is all nonsense and you shouldn’t have to do this, but I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the role you have now. I know you’ll take good care of her, as well as I when my time eventually comes.”

“Right…” Taking in another deep breath, Lamby’s features smooth out. “I will be departing within the hour. I might have made things a bit harder on you after riling up everyone like that, but I’m trusting you to take care of everyone while I’m away. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone for. It might only be a day or two, it might be weeks. Whatever the old gods demand.”

“Ratoo and I will have things covered.” Ratau assures them. “We both have experience running this place, or at least the village that used to be here. We’ll try to keep everything from falling apart while you’re gone.”

“As for Narinder…” Lamby grumbles out that name.

“Ratoo will beat him on your behalf if he does anything especially stupid.” Ratau promises. “In the meantime, I’ll keep trying to work with him. There’s a good person in there underneath all that nastiness… probably.”

“I hope you’re right.” Lamby says before turning away to retreat to their room. “I have my own preparations to finish up. If I don’t see you before I depart, good luck.”

“Farewell, Lamby.” Ratau waves them off, turning to leave the temple. “Come home safe now.” Lamby returns the wave before making their way for the stairs to descend down into their chambers. With his business done here, Ratau leaves the temple and makes his way to the kitchens for breakfast before returning to his usual duties around the village.

He’s going to worry about the kid all day. He thought he was done worrying when he came home and there was no more lord to fret over, but life just keeps finding ways to screw them. They’ll pull through though. They always do.

Fion was the fifth follower Lamby recruited into the cult.

Combing through the Darkwood on their early, treacherous crusades, they stumbled across the burnt out ruins of a village, the homes still smoldering from a recent raid. While everyone had cleared out or died during the attack, one remained. The old hedgehog dug through the still burning rubble of her home, desperate to unearth her husband who had been crushed within it.

She was hurt, she had nowhere else to go, but she was reluctant to join Lamby at first. She wanted to be with her husband, even if it meant dying with the rest of her village. They had eventually convinced her that he wouldn’t want her to suffer there and to follow them back home where it was safe. It took forever for her to fully accept her new home, and knowing what Lamby dragged her into as they were corrupted by Narinder, they wish they never came across her.

She didn’t see it that way though.

She had given up on life, an existence without her beloved Breryn wasn’t one she wanted to cling to, but Lamby convinced her to try. Even with how rough things became as Narinder’s teachings became more corrupt and self-serving, Fion had a purpose within the cult. A community of other individuals just like her, a lord who cared for her when the others took everything, and the peace of mind knowing that her husband was at peace and waiting for her. Through all the hardships and betrayals, Lamby helped her find the will to go on.

That didn’t make the pain of her loss go away though. Every day that passed without him hurt more and more. Seeing how desperate Lamby was, knowing that people were hurting and in need of help, Fion barely had to think about her decision.

She didn’t shout, cry, or even flinch. She died with a smile, knowing she would be reunited with her long lost husband and that hundreds of others would earn the same rest she earned. It was hard to keep track of all the names and faces within their flock, but Lamby won’t ever forget Fion’s sacrifice. They will build a memorial for her when they return, one for Amdusias too. Scratch that, they’re getting an entire shrine dedicated to not just them, but to all who carried them this far.

That was something to worry about for later though, they needed to stay vigilant.

This wasn’t the Darkwood they knew, not exactly. The air felt different here, the usual ambience of the woods having fallen silent. They were reasonably sure this was still the world they knew, but this stretch of the woods they found themself in felt otherworldly. Their hand was poised and ready to swing, the crown on their head scanned the trees, keeping its eye out for danger.

The dulled ambience becomes quieter. There's rustling in the leaves beside them.

Throwing their hand out, the Red Crown rushes to arm them with a dagger, allowing them to smack the arrow flying towards them out of the air. Lamby readies their blade as someone emerges from the trees armed with a bow and arrow. They’re taken aback however when they see the state he’s in.

The archer does not step out to meet them, but crawls out. Soaked through, rotted bandages are tied around his ankles as he shuffles forward on his knees. His robes look worn and ragged, his beaked mask is cracked and covered in muck. As he tried to pull the string of his bow back, Lamby thought they could see exposed bone and rotten flesh beneath his sleeves. He doesn’t say a word, he just lets out a low growl of rage, his wild eyes beneath his mask locked with Lamby’s.

Lamby rushes forward, readying themselves to take this guy down. It’s clear to them that this wasn’t a normal worshiper of Leshy. He’s been long dead, or at least he was supposed to be.

The archer manages to let another arrow fly before Lamby gets within reach, but their reflexes are too sharp for them to be hit, even at this close of a range. Ducking to the side, Lamby gets out of the way, before reaching out and snatching the arrow out of the air. With two more steps they’re close enough to hit him and they bring the arrow they just caught down onto his head.

The arrow punches through his mask and lodges itself into his head, and while it earns a pained reaction out of him, it isn’t the clean kill Lamby was expecting. Dropping the bow, the undead zealot reaches up and grabs their wrist with one hand as he reaches for the rusty blade hanging off his hip. Lamby tries to bring their dagger down on him to finish the job and free themself, but despite being a corpse, the zealot was surprisingly quick.

The undead archer manages to slash across Lamby’s chest moments before they’re able to sink their dagger into his skull right next to the arrow. Lamby cries out from pain, but the archer doesn’t make a sound. His grip around Lamby’s arm goes limp and the blade in his other hand clatters to the ground as he slumps over dead.

Lamby pulls their dagger free, shaking off the black gunk that clings to its blade before the crown returns to their head. They wince as they look down at the deep cut across their chest which was already starting to seal up with the crown’s power. The lone archer turned out to be much more durable than they thought. They were caught off guard this time, but if every lost soul is going to be this resilient to damage, they might have some problems. They’re going to have to stay quick on their feet. Even with all the power they possess, they can’t afford to take too many hits like this.

Looking down at the archer, Lamby’s surprised to see what little flesh that still clung to them fades away to nothing, leaving only brittle bones and torn robes. Lamby isn’t sure how long he was suffering for, but it’s over now. By the Red Crown’s blade, he’s now free to rest in peace. Had Lamby slain this man years ago when they first visited the Darkwood? Seeing just how old and withered his equipment was, Lamby wonders if this man was possibly Ratau’s work. What if he died before even Ratau? A heretic in the eyes of Narinder who didn’t deserve the afterlife. Lamby had no idea how far back this went and they didn’t want to talk to that despicable cat to find out.

It couldn’t be that bad. If there were hundreds of years worth of tortured souls, the bishops or the old gods would have taken notice sooner. Even so, they had a LOT of work to do.

Now familiar with what they were going to be up against, Lamby tries to get their bearings again, but they’re surprised when they notice a golden glint up in the branches nearby. They quickly cut across the clearing to make their way to the fortune teller. Not only did they need every boon they could get, but they were curious about what the old owl might have to say. When they last spoke, Lamby was preparing themself to face off against the last bishop of the Old Faith. They were an officially recognized god now. He told them that he would still draw their cards for years, but with the bad hand fate has dealt them, maybe Clauneck can help stack the deck in their favor.

Entering the small clearing where the fortune teller rests, Clauneck bows his head. “No longer a servant, no less than a god. It is good to see you again Lord Lamby, God of Death.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Lamby bows back, seating themself before the old owl. “I guess you technically already knew this was coming though, considering you said I would be sticking around after my work was done.”

“The cards may have shown me the broad strokes, but witnessing your journey first hand was still a pleasure to see. Of course, your work is not done yet, nor is mine. The crown is now yours, your will is law, and with no other lords to stop you, the world is yours to do with as you see fit.”

“That’s something I don’t really like.” Lamby sighs. “I don’t really want to hold all this power over everyone.”

“And yet you still wear the crown.” Clauneck observes. “The other crowns have no owners and now lie dormant, the lands of their lords now quiet and unchanged. The cards tell me you freely gave up the crown once before, you are free to do so whenever you wish, your word is law, after all.”

“But I need it.” Lamby says. “I need to fix everything.”

“Why?” Clauneck asks, giving Lamby pause. He doesn’t say anything more. He wasn’t looking for an actual answer, he was simply placing the thought in their head. “Whether you realize it or not, your godly will has already changed the world. You deem yourself fit for the crown and no one else. You believe this is your duty, even though you did not start the conflict you are now trying to correct. It was your choice to meddle in the business of gods, to take on the duties of a lord and ruler. While the weight of that power and responsibility can be crushing for those not ready, you believed you possessed that strength.”

“Narinder gave me all this power.” Lamby tells him after taking a moment to drink in everything he told them. “Before I learned his true intentions with me, he showed me that lords could be merciful. He brought me up from nothing, took away my fear and pain and helped me change the world for the better. I fed my people the same lie Narinder fed me, but I don’t want it to be a lie.” Lamby glances down at the cards in front of them. “Am I to become as cruel and contemptuous as the gods before me? Will this power corrupt me just like all of them?”

“The cards do not say.” Clauneck shakes his head. “They care little for morality. The only actions they care for are the ones that shape your future. I will say this, however; no other lord has ever pondered the same questions you do. Their lordship was absolute, their will law. None ever considered the wills and woes of the subjects they ruled over. You are the first lord crowned since the divine coronation, a mortal born under the rule of old. The other lords saw your kind as lesser, and though you are now a god, you still see mortal men as equals. I cannot say for certain how you will fare as a lord, but the mere fact that you worry whether your rule is just shows far more care than any previous lord bothered.”

Was the bar really that low? Are they truly the first who saw mortals as equals and not as lesser beings? That only strengthens their resolve. The world deserves better. Everyone deserves the same love and care that they were shown.

Clauneck gestures for them to draw a card. There were no fortunes today, only sage advice. Leaning forward, Lamby draws from the top of the deck, flipping it over to find something that grants them relief. The lovers. Their heart beats a little harder in their chest just from looking at it, the ache from the slash they suffered from already fading.

“Fare thee well on your sacred duty, Lord Lamby.” Clauneck bows his head. “I trust we will meet again soon. As the last remaining lord, the fates have their eyes on you.”

“Thank you, Clauneck.” Lamby bows their head to the fortune teller and when they raise their head again, he is gone. There was no time to rest in good company, they had a job to do. Rising to their feet, they return to their crusade. As they march, they glance up at the crown on their head.

Were they really the first mortal born lord? Was their empathy really that unique and shocking? Gods, when they were forcing people to work themselves to death, were people ok with it simply because they were nice about it unlike every lord that came before them? The bar wasn’t just low, it was buried somewhere deep in the pits of hell. They were probably the kindest lord to live by default, even with the terrible things they did.

They weren’t content with that though. Their flock deserved better, the whole world did. As they step out of the clearing, they ready themself for combat. There were souls to put to rest, their moralizing can wait. They’ll return to the village soon enough to speak with their followers and begin work on the shrine for Fion and those who sacrificed themselves for them. They’ll be able to make much more sense of all this with Ratau by their side.

Speaking of whom, they really hope he’s doing alright at home alone with that damned cat.

Chapter Text

Ratau had never been so busy after a sermon.

Lamby’s words really stirred the hive and as a result, a lot of big changes were happening right under their nose. While Lamby’s honesty and vulnerability made a lot of people more sympathetic and loyal, it also turned some away. Many were hurt by the harsh and unforgiving conditions and beliefs of the cult and hearing from Lamby’s own mouth that it was a mistake was enough for them to find the courage to call it quits.

Back when Narinder was still lord and Lamby followed his orders without question, these people would have been punished for heresy and dissension. Today, Ratau is helping those people pack their things.

“If you’re looking for a place to stay, there’s a village far to the east of here.” Ratau tells the small group of disillusioned followers who were preparing to depart. “It’s where my old friends left when my village was raided decades ago. It’s been years since I last heard anything from them and… well I doubt even young Oy is still alive anymore to greet you, but I’ve been assured that it is a safe and wonderful place. I hope you will be happy there.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know where I’m gonna go.” One particularly aggravated bear huffs. “Certainly not anywhere you recommend.”

“I understand.” Ratau sighs, unable to hide how much the bear's words hurt. “I know that no amount of convincing will make you stay. Being lied to isn’t pleasant, especially from someone you trust to keep you safe. Even if you’re leaving us, we still wish only the best for you. I hope you fare well in whatever new home you make for yourselves.”

“Yeah…” The bear grumbles, shouldering his bag and turning his back on Ratau. “Good luck, old man. Don’t let your faith blind you like it did all of us.”

The bear walks off, a few of the other dissenters following after him into the woods to search for better homes. Ratau prays that they find someplace safe to settle and that their journeys are free from strife. While other gods would be furious to see those who were once faithful to them leave, Lamby made it very clear that they cared for everyone no matter their beliefs.

No matter what, they would fall back into Lamby’s care. It was a simple fact of life that all beings die, and as the God of Death, it was Lamby’s duty to care for them when they pass. He just hopes they live long fulfilling lives before they meet again.

As the others continue to pack, Ratau turns his attention elsewhere, looking to assist those who still remain at the village.

Work continues as usual, though it’s noticeably slower. Many people were overworked during Lamby’s rule and hearing that they regret pushing them has led to them slacking on their duties. It wasn’t a problem now, hell Ratau was even encouraging people to sit down and stop pushing themselves when Lamby first started trying to make changes, but this was a very large village that needed to be properly maintained. Lamby probably wouldn’t mind if the flowers weren’t watered every day or if the golden statues weren’t polished to a mirror shine, but the place needed to stay clean and the farms needed to be tended to. With a population this size, these lax working conditions might become a problem. He’s sure they’ll find a solution though, he already had some ideas.

The shrine in the center of the village remains a hotspot. Some prayed more fervently than ever before while others remained standing, speaking to friends and neighbors instead of worshiping it. Those who aren’t knelt down by the shrine cast worried glances at Ratau, but he gives them all a smile. They did not need to worship Lamby as lord for them to be welcome. Lamby will love them regardless.

He takes a seat by the fire in front of the shrine, answering questions and giving assurance to everyone who approaches him. Some worry for those who are leaving or how the village will fare after these big changes. A few question him if their loved ones are in the safety of the afterlife just as Lamby once promised or if they were cast out by the previous lord. Some were worried about the sacrifice situation, knowing that Fion likely wouldn’t be the last.

Ratau does his best to calm everyone down. The village will continue to thrive, no matter how many people remain. Lamby is a god, full stop. They already changed the world and ended an entire religion, they can manage one village just fine. As for the ones who are dead, Lamby is already working tirelessly to put anyone who was denied their peace their final rest. Everyone was either already sleeping or they would be put to sleep very soon. Finally, there was no reason to worry over the sacrifices. Lamby will never take anyone unwillingly, they have nothing to fear.

These were all fairly easy questions to handle. He had absolute faith in Lamby and knew they would do the right thing, but the next question he receives gives him pause as it’s the one thing he doesn’t fully understand.

“What about The One Who Waits? He’s still here, isn’t he?”

“Why do we have to put up with that monster?!”

“He’s the one who did all of this to us, right? Why are we housing him?”

He has no immediate answer, at least none that he feels the flock will be happy with. Lamby didn’t want to stoop to Narinder’s level and wanted to prove that they could forgive even the nastiest of people, but that wouldn’t appease their flock. To a good chunk of people here, Narinder was a terrifying abomination who literally crucified them. Lamby’s wishes be damned, they didn’t want to be next door neighbors with that monster.

“Would you like me to talk to him and try to work something out?” Ratau suggests and the questions halt.

“No?!” One of the followers is quick to answer. “You should stay away from him too. He’s dangerous.”

“I haven’t had too difficult of a time with him.” Ratau shrugs. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on him and with Lamby now busy, I’m in charge. I’m nearly a hundred years old, but I know my way around a blade and the most virtuous of us can attest that I put up a good fight against him when he still had power. Just try and ignore the burn scars and the bald spots where my fur hasn’t grown back just yet.”

People still don’t look convinced. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to help you?” Richard, the helpful fellow from yesterday speaks up from the crowd. “We can help you confront him.”

“Oh no, you all need to keep your distance for now.” Ratau is quick to shake his head. “I don’t think he has anything against you guys personally, but he hasn’t taken well to having to live with lowly mortals like us. Lamby has their reasons for keeping him around and I’m sure they’ll share those reasons with you all in their next sermon, but until then, just try to ignore him. He’s probably going to be staying in his house anyways so there’s no need to…”

Ratau’s words die in his throat as he watches the tall, dark form of the dethroned lord march through the village, causing everyone who gets near him to turn the other way and flee. Everyone by the shrine huddles close to Ratau, but Narinder does not make his way towards him or the shrine. He instead marches towards the stairs leading up to the gates.

“I should probably see what he’s up to.” Ratau says, quickly excusing himself and pushing to his feet. “I don’t suppose one of you is brave enough to help me up the stairs?”

“As long as you don’t need me to stick around after that.” Richard offers, taking his hand to help lead him.

Together, Ratau and Richard follow after Narinder who quickly climbs up the stairway. It takes Ratau a lot longer to make the same trip even with Richard’s help, but once he’s up at the top, Richard retreats back down with Ratau’s blessing. Pushing himself with as much urgency as his battered body will allow, Ratau tries to chase after the damned cat to make sure he isn’t doing anything stupid.

Thankfully he hasn’t gone very far and he finds him in the same place Lamby was standing the other day. Though, unlike Lamby, he was still in control of himself and nowhere near as quiet.

“I can sense you!” Narinder calls out from in front of the crown’s shrine, pointing up at the empty gateway leading up to his temple where the old god supposedly stood. “Reveal yourself to me! Are you frightened of me? Are you afraid of the hands that stole away your life? I will find a way to do it again if you do not reveal yourself and face me!”

“My lord, is it really wise to be taunting your maker?” Ratau calls out from a safe distance away, raising his voice to be heard over Narinder’s shouting. “Lamby says it’s angry enough as is. Leave it alone!”

Narinder glares back at him. Just as he noticed the first time they both came up here, Narinder’s third eye is squeezed shut and he can only barely squint through it while looking away from the gate.

“Why must you pester me, rat?” He growls.

“It’s my job to make sure everyone stays safe in the village.” Ratau tells him, slowly closing the distance between them. “Wandering up to a place which is forbidden all by yourself to taunt the divine being who made you sounds dangerous and I’m here to make sure the old gods don’t smite you.”

“Are you really so full of yourself that you believe you can stand up to a god?” Narinder asks. “The being before me can reduce you to nothing in the blink of an eye.”

Did… Did Narinder think he was going to fight against the old gods to save him?! “Of course not.” Ratau shakes his head. “I’m not going anywhere near that gate or messing with whatever’s there. What I can do is drag you back to the village so you don’t do anything stupid.”

“Oh really now?” Narinder turns his back on the gate to fully face Ratau. “You think you can force me to return to that dilapidated shack yourself? I’d like to see you try.”

Ratau stands stunned for a moment. “By the gods, you're just asking to get your ass kicked today, aren’t you?” Ratau shakes his head in disbelief. “You know there’s no winning this fight, right? Even if you beat me, which I’m reasonably sure you could, Lamby will punish you for beating up a defenseless old man. I’ll force you out of here if it means keeping you from messing with the thing watching over this place. Lamby might beat you senseless, but you’ll probably still live. Picking a fight with something you can’t even see is just going to get you kicked back to the afterlife or worse.”

Narinder has no response to that. Getting a good lock at him, he still looks disheveled and slightly hungover. He’s certainly better than he was this morning, but he’s still irritable and openly hostile. His fists are clenched and his teeth are bared. His frustrations and rage have built up over the past few days and he wants to hit something while he’s in this addled state.

Ratau’s going to make sure he never lets this cat get his hands on alcohol ever again.

Thankfully, Narinder either realizes that there will be hell to pay if he lays a finger on Ratau or he decides that an old man is not a worthy enough opponent. Facing the gate again and squinting his eyes, he continues to berate the invisible deity standing within it.

“Show yourself you bastard!” He shouts. “A mortal has stolen the crown your beasts bestowed upon me! The order you apparently care so much about is being threatened by that wretched little lamb! You’ll show yourself to that traitor and not me?!” Narinder starts to march forward, walking around the shrine of the red crown to approach the gate. “You will correct this injustice! I know you aren’t completely useless!”

“My lord?!” Ratau starts to panic as Narinder gets closer to the gate. He tries to step forward, but the closer he gets, the worse his headache becomes. There’s a pounding between his ears that wasn’t there before. “I think you’re making it angry!”

“It’s making me angry!” Narinder shouts back, moving for the gate. “Stop pretending you can’t hear me! Do something before I-”

Ratau doesn’t get to hear whatever Narinder was going to say as he suddenly finds himself blinded and deafened. He falls to the floor, throwing his hands out with no sense of where he is only to crash face first into the dirt. It felt like there was a hammer rattling around in his skull. It hurts so bad that he can’t think, but in place of his thoughts, strange sounds filled the space.

He first thought it was the sound of booming thunder echoing in his head, but to his horror, he thinks he can recognize words through all the noise. He can’t make any sense of it, it’s all gibberish to him, but there was a clear meaning behind the terrible noises he was hearing. All he can do is cower in place, praying that the pounding in his head doesn’t liquify his brain.

Just as suddenly as the wrath of the gods befell him, it dissipates. Ratau opens his eye and while his vision is blurry and scattered and his ears are ringing, he can see and hear again. Sniffling, he brings a shaking hand up to find that he busted his nose up from the fall and was bleeding a little bit. That’s gonna be hard to explain away to the flock who just saw him chase after the cat who they all believed to be dangerous. Speaking of…

“My lord?!” Ratau winces as his own voice seems way too loud but also way too quiet. Hell, trying to push himself up leaves him dizzy and aching all over. What the hell even happened to him? “Narinder? Are you ok?”

Ratau’s guts turn to stone when he looks up and finds Narinder lying motionless on his back.

“Oh no! Narinder!” Despite how shaken and dizzy he is, Ratau quickly scrambles to his feet, grabbing his walking stick off the ground and quickly pushing himself towards the cat. He swears, if this idiot actually managed to get himself killed by picking a fight with the gods that created him…

His head still pounds as he arrives at Narinder’s side and what fur he has left stands on end. He really doesn’t like being this close to the gate, but the divine being standing there does not lash out at him for coming too close. Ratau kneels down beside Narinder to check if he’s alright. To his relief, he’s still breathing and his eyes are wide open.

To his shock, Narinder looks completely stunned and horrified, his third eye bleeding and bloodshot red.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Ratau urges, trying to lift the scrawny idiot back up to his feet. The moment Ratau touches him, he quickly springs upright and sprints back to the village, leaving Ratau in the dust. “Wait for me, jackass!” Ratau shouts out, struggling to push himself up and follow him.

”HALT!”

Ratau’s entire body freezes on the spot. His blood runs still in his veins, his thoughts go blank. That was the same booming voice he heard earlier, but not only could he now understand it, it was being directed towards him.

”FACE ME.”

Ratau’s legs move without his input, slowly turning him around to face the gate. The gateway leading to Narinder’s old temple is no longer empty. There is a blinding white light in its place now, causing Ratau to squint his eye. The light is so harsh that his eye start to water, but feeling how hot the tears going down his cheeks are, he realizes that those aren’t tears. He’s bleeding and he fears that simply staring at this light is burning his eye out of his skull.

There’s something in the light staring back at him though. He can barely make any sense of it, but in the center of the blinding white is a void of pure darkness where eyes peer out at him. He stands frozen in its gaze, unsure of what to do, unsure if he could do anything even if he wanted to.

”DISCIPLE OF DEATH. VESSEL OF THE RED CROWN. I REVEAL MYSELF TO YOU WITH ONE QUERY. WHY? WHEN GRANTED THE POWER OF THE CROWN ONCE MORE, WHY RETURN IT?”

“I…” Ratau can barely hear himself think over the powerful voice echoing in his head, but he tries to answer the god’s question, not wanting to displease it. “I was just borrowing it.” He answers, his voice coming out as a terrified and quiet squeak. “It wasn’t mine, it was Lamby’s. I gave it back to them because I trusted them with it more than myself.”

The void continues to stare at him for several seconds, leaving Ratau frozen and bleeding, but just as suddenly as it appeared, it vanishes. The light suddenly disappears and the strange, shapeless creature within it goes with it. Ratau stumbles backwards as he finds he’s able to move again, causing him to trip up and land hard on his ass. His vision is dark and fuzzy for a moment as he tries to regain his senses. When he rubs at his eyes to try and clear them, his hands come up red as he confirms that blood was seeping from his eye while he was staring at the divine entity.

It was still there, he could feel it, but it either did not care for him anymore or it was leaving him alone now since he answered its question. Quickly scrambling to his feet and holding his walking stick tight, Ratau hurries as fast as his trembling legs can carry him as he runs back to the safety of the village. This thing scared the absolute shit out of him and he wanted to get far away from it. It was no wonder Lamby was so shaken up by that thing, it was terrifying!

Making it back to the stairs, he slows his pace a little to keep himself from falling. Glancing down at the village, people seem to be acting out a little. A few people take notice of Ratau trying to make his way down the stairs and the sight of blood gets them moving to assist him.

“Ratau?! Are you alright?!” Yahroi, a yellow tabby, tugs on her sleeve to try and wipe away the blood on Ratau’s cheeks and nose. “Were you attacked?! I saw the three eyed cat run down earlier, did he do this to you?”

“N-no, it’s fine. It’s fine.” Ratau tries to assure her and the crowd that’s gathered, but he must look really bad because no one thinks it’s fine. “It isn’t something you guys need to worry about yet as long as you don’t go up those stairs. Where’s Narinder, by the way? He’s probably as frazzled as I am.”

“He ran straight into the temple, even though it should be closed in Lord Lamby’s absence.” Richard tells him. “Can you please allow me to come along with you? It will appease me and everyone else here who fears for your safety.”

It was hard to say no to a request like that. Ratau was bloodied and clearly frightened and everyone here believes that Narinder is still dangerous. Dragging them into conflicts they don’t need to be in wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he’d just make them worry more and more if he kept pushing them aside.

“Go fetch my brother and send him our way.” Ratau orders Richard, giving him something productive to do. “Tell him to bring something to clean me up and something to calm my nerves. Trust me, when he hears I need his help, he’ll come and fix the issue in seconds. You don’t have to worry about me with him on the job.”

“Alright.” Richard nods, happy to have something productive to do.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him?” Yahroi asks at his side. “That creepy cat has it coming. Come on, just one.”

“Trust me, I want to hit him sometimes too, but Lamby says he’s our guest here.” Ratau shakes his head, trying to calm the riled up tabby. “If he swings on you first, you have my full permission to punch him. Don’t go pissing him off just to get him to swing though.”

Ratau does his best to try and assure everyone he’s alright as he starts making his way to the temple. Managing a following this large is way harder than the forty or so people he had to watch over when he was crowned. It's also a lot harder when people see him as a feeble old man instead of their unflappable leader. It didn’t matter that he was a century old, he could handle himself just fine.

He eventually makes it to the temple to get some peace and quiet, but looking around, he doesn’t find Narinder anywhere inside. He ventures deeper, looking around for a sign of his whereabouts when he spots a couple drops of blood on the floor. Following the small trail, he finds it leads down into Lamby’s chambers.

This cat really does have a death wish, doesn’t he?

Hurrying down the stairs in the dim light, Ratau steps through the open door to Lamby’s room and finds Narinder rummaging through it, digging through chests and drawers.

“The hell are you doing now?!” Ratau demands. He expects Narinder to turn and glare at him, but to his surprise, Narinder actually flinches at his sudden demand, his fur puffing out. His head snaps back to stare at him in shock for a few seconds, but when he realizes who spoke to him, the pissed response Ratau was expecting finally comes out.

“Looking for my grimoire.” He eventually mutters, continuing his search and tossing jewelry and fleeces to the floor as he empties a drawer. “That thing has the gall to tell me to stand aside and let that miserable creature keep my crown. I have the bastard’s words in writing, I will show it just how stupid it’s being by letting a mortal play god in the world that it-”

“Are you actually insane?!” Ratau blurts out, giving Narinder pause. “There’s still blood on your cheeks and you bolted out of there with your tail tucked between your legs! Why the hell would you go back to challenge it further?! I thought I was dying and it wasn’t even talking to me!”

“I don’t expect a lowly mortal like you to understand, rat.” Narinder scoffs, slamming the drawer he was searching through shut to dig through the next.

“What the hell did he even say to you?” Ratau asks. “When it spoke to me, it just asked a question before it disappeared again. Even that scared the shit out of me, but it sounded like it was yelling at-”

“It spoke to you?!” Narinder stops his search again, his eyes going wide as he stares Ratau down. “You... A nobody. A mortal.”

“It spoke to you, didn’t it?” Ratau counters before biting his tongue. He’s really gotta stop saying stuff like that. Thankfully, Narinder doesn’t lash out at him for it and instead pushes away from the drawers, running his hands through the fur on his head. “My lord, what did it say to you?” Ratau tries to prod, curious about what the deity could have said to make Narinder run that fast.

“It cast me aside.” Narinder says, his voice haunted. “It was furious with me, enraged that I would go against its will and use my crown for the opposite of its purpose. It trusted me with the Red Crown and no one else, but by its own words, I am no longer fit to wear it.”

It takes every ounce of strength Ratau has to not point out that he was cast out and had the crown stolen from him too. “Damn…” Is all Ratau can say without pissing Narinder off further.

“And you?” Narinder looks at him. “What did it say to you?”

“It asked me why I gave the crown back to Lamby after our fight.” Ratau answers him. “I told it why and it went away without another word.”

“And why did you?” Narinder asks with a raised brow. “All that power back in your hands and you turned it over to a child.”

“It wasn’t mine.” Ratau shrugs. “I gave it back to its rightful owner.” It takes a couple of seconds for Ratau to understand why Narinder suddenly looks very pissed.

“I am its rightful owner!” He barks. “It’s mine, as ordained by the old gods themselves! Rotten, thieving rat!”

“Well not anymore it's not.” Ratau says. That seems to push Narinder over the edge as he stomps forward towards him, but before he can do anything, someone joins them in Lamby’s room.

“The hell happened to you two?” Ratoo stands at the door, a look of worry and confusion etched on his face as he stares at them both.

“I think we met our makers.” Ratau says, wiping at his nose. “As for what Narinder’s doing down here, I can’t tell you. He’s beyond stupid.”

“Do not call me that, rat!” Narinder hisses. “You will refer to me as lord!”

“What happened to referring to me by my title?” Ratau counters.

“Former vessel…” Narinder grumbles.

“That doesn’t explain anything.” Ratoo shakes his head. “Why are you both bleeding? What the hell are you doing down here? I was told that you two were beating each other bloody but you’re just down here rummaging through Lamby’s drawers?”

Ratau lets out a tired sigh. “It’s been a very long day already.” He says. “Did Richard tell you what I needed?”

“There is tea boiling at home.” Ratoo nods. “If anyone needs assistance, they can go to me until you are ready.”

“That sounds lovely.” Ratau says, reaching out and taking his brother’s hand so he can be led upstairs. “Come along, my lord.”

“What?” Both Narinder and Ratoo turn to him in confusion. “Brother, do we need to?” Ratoo asks in dismay. After dealing with an unruly guest last night, he probably didn’t want to invite him back to their home again.

“I am not leaving until I find my grimoire.” Narinder grumbles, returning to the drawers he was searching previously. “I don’t want to speak with a thieving rat like you anyways.”

“You’re not gonna find it.” Ratau tells him. “Lamby keeps it in the crown just as I did. You’re not gonna get your hands on it until they return.”

“Return from where?” He asks, slamming the drawer he was digging through shut with rage.

“They’re currently cleaning up your mess.” Ratau says. “They’re in the Darkwood searching for your brother to actually kill him this time. Now stop digging through their laundry and come upstairs for some tea. You need to chill the hell out but I’m not making the mistake of giving you anymore wine. Put everything back and try to enjoy yourself for once you miserable prick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, rat!” Narinder calls out as Ratau urges his brother to take him home. If Narinder wants to face the wrath of the lamb when they find their room in disarray, that’s his choice. Ratau’s tired, he wants to sit down and enjoy some tea before he gets back to work.

Together, Ratau and Ratoo leave the temple and make their way home. The followers who were worried for him are relieved to see Ratau in his brother’s care and they leave him be as he’s escorted home. Hopefully everyone can take care of themselves for a little while. They needed leadership and guidance, but they can keep themselves from starving to death for a few hours, right?

“Take it easy for a while, Ratau.” Ratoo pleads with him as they both step into their home. Ratau immediately sits himself down at the table, setting his walking stick aside as he sinks into his seat and sighs with relief. “I understand that Lamby trusts you as a close friend, but you shouldn’t have to do all of this work by yourself when they’re absent.”

“It really isn’t much work at all.” Ratau insists. “It’s just that our unruly guest is a hassle to deal with. If he weren’t here, I’d still be out there with no problem.”

“Now, can you please explain why you’re such a mess?” Ratoo asks as he goes to fetch him the tea he asked for. “What the hell did you mean when you said you met your maker?”

“Narinder tried picking a fight with an old god.” Ratau explains. “The one who told Lamby about the lost souls who were denied death. It was hiding itself from all unworthy eyes, but I guess Narinder’s so good at pissing people off that he managed to get under its skin. It felt like my head was going to explode just hearing it talk. I wasn’t actually hurt or anything, the blood is just a side effect of all this godly business.”

“I feel you should stay out of godly business then.” Ratoo hums, sitting down at the table with two cups of tea, one of which he passes to Ratau. “Take it from me, it’s easy to lose yourself in all this otherworldly nonsense. As thankful as I am to be reunited with my heart, it makes my worry for you even greater.”

“There is nothing to worry about.” Ratau assures him. “Even if the worst were to happen, Lamby would ensure I was properly taken care of. Of course, I’m not trying to get myself killed by picking fights with divine beings, but I’ve already walked away from one fight with a god. Calm your heart, Ratoo, I’ll be fine.”

Things settle between them as they enjoy their tea and relax. Lamby would return soon and take care of Ratau’s responsibilities. With how eager Ratoo is to make sure his brother is safe, maybe he can become Lamby’s next disciple, assisting Ratau in his task of maintaining the village and the peace of its citizens. People already looked up to him as a walking miracle considering the demonic heart in his exposed chest, he’d make a great fit. He’d have to sit down and have Lamby preach to him a bunch and get caught up on all the nonsense about the bishops and the old gods, but he spent years in the same spot looking for his heart, he can spare the patience to learn everything.

After a while, a peaceful silence settles between them as they enjoy their tea. Ratau’s eyelids grow heavy and he’s considering taking a short nap before returning to his duties, but he’s jolted awake as his front door is suddenly pushed open and someone steps inside.

“You could have knocked, my lord.” Ratau grumbles as Narinder stands in the doorway. “Glad you came to join us though. Finally come to your senses?”

“I’m thirsty.” Narinder grumbles, stepping towards the table. “The kitchen won’t serve me. Correct this.”

“Oh, is it time for dinner already?” Ratau sits up. Maybe he did take a nap without realizing. “I should get up and-”

“Please, Ratau. Allow me.” Ratoo rises from his seat beside him. “I’m sure everyone can tend to themselves for a little while longer while you continue to rest. I will fetch dinner for us.”

“Grab something for our friend here too.” Ratau instructs, settling back into his chair. “Everyone’s still skittish around him, he can eat here with us.”

Once again, both Ratoo and Narinder give him a look.

“I did not come here to chat.” Narinder grumbles. “I came here to force you to fix a problem. Do your job, rat.”

“Narinder,” The cat’s face scrunches up at the utterance of his name, “Is that how you ask for what you want?”

“Former vessel.” Narinder grumbles. “Manage your flock.”

“Better.” Ratau smiles. “Ratoo, fetch us dinner please. I’ll be sure to speak with the workers tomorrow to make sure they serve our lord.”

“Alright.” Ratoo sighs, leaving the table and giving Narinder a glare as he passes him by. Narinder’s about to leave with him, but Ratau clears his throat to get his attention.

“If you’re thirsty, tea is right here my lord.” He says, gesturing towards the empty chair at the table. “Wouldn’t you rather wait here for your food instead of mingling with the lowly mortals outside?”

Narinder stares at him for several seconds, but he eventually folds and steps towards the chair, sitting himself down. Ratau doubted he’d actually stay for dinner and he’d leave as soon as he got what he wanted, but he managed to keep him here once before. He’s slowly getting better at managing this weirdo.

“Also, my lord, if you don’t mind.” Ratau starts as he rises from his seat to get Narinder a cup. “While ‘former vessel’ is an appropriate title, the old god at the gate recognized me by a different one. You wouldn’t mind referring to me as the Disciple of Death, would you?”

“I would, rat.” Narinder growls. “I am the one with authority to grant that title and I will not have you share it with my disciples!”

That gets Ratau to freeze for a moment. “Aym and Baal?” He asks, turning to face Narinder again. The last he saw those two were when they fought against Lamby in the afterlife. In the heat of the moment, he said some pretty foul things to them, but seeing what happened to them… “Are they still alright?”

“They are true disciples of death.” Narinder boasts. “That vile lamb does not have the strength to kill them. Those two have done worse to each other for mere entertainment. Until you are truly unbothered by death, I will not refer to you by your false title. You are my former vessel, discarded and useless to me.”

Ratau sighs. It was worth a shot. Returning to the table with an extra cup, Ratau sits himself down and pours Narinder some tea. “Do you care for them?” Ratau asks as he pours. “With how quick you are to toss everyone else aside, I’m surprised those boys were allowed to sit by your side for so long, especially considering who gave them to you.”

Setting the kettle down, Ratau pushes the cup to Narinder only to find he’s frozen between wanting to punch him and looking incredibly confused.

“Who gave them to me?” He asks, lowering his fists as he scrutinizes Ratau. “What could you possibly know that I don’t?!”

“Lamby told me a lot when we were preparing to meet you.” Ratau explains, taking a sip of his tea to remind Narinder of his own. “Shamura shared many secrets with them before they died. They warned Lamby about the wrath of the old gods which we now have at our front door. They shared the story of your betrayal from their point of view, as well as how much it hurt to do so. During one of their last meetings, Lamby told me that Shamura spoke of Aym and Baal. The thought of you being banished all alone, visited only by the souls of the dead which you would immediately put to rest, Shamura worked to grant you company.”

“You lie…” Narinder says, but it comes out almost breathless. He looks to be in complete disbelief.

“Lamby has met the boys’ mother.” Ratau continues, drawing Narinder’s attention back to the conversation. “They confirmed it with her. The god of knowledge came to her, a mother with two kits, two bundles of love that filled her heart with boundless joy. Seeing how happy those two kits made her, Shamura struck a deal with her. They had someone they loved too, someone who would never enjoy companionship ever again. In exchange for one of your most powerful trinkets, a golden medallion which could halt aging completely, her children would go to someone else.”

Narinder sits frozen, staring down at his cup of tea, unable to move or say anything. Ratau doesn’t push him. He could hardly believe the story himself. The Old Faith stealing a mother’s children away was perfectly in line for them, but doing it so that the god they banished would no longer be lonely went against the lord’s stories of betrayal and hatred. With how much rage Narinder told those stories, it was clear that he truly believed his siblings hated him, but his closest companions were living contradictions to his beliefs.

“I pray that those boys are doing alright.” Ratau says, taking a sip of his tea. “Maybe Lamby can bring them here once they appease the old god. I’m sure they’d be delighted to see you well.”

Narinder still says nothing. Lifting up his cup, he takes a sip of his tea before setting it back down, having no comment on it or what Ratau just said.

The door behind him opens and Narinder suddenly rises to his feet.

“I’m back!” Ratoo announces, stepping inside with three bowls in hand. “I’m guessing you’re going to want the mea-” Snatching the bowl out of Ratoo’s hands, Narinder quickly makes his exit, shoving Ratoo aside in the process before hurrying out the door. “Inconsiderate prick…” Ratoo mutters under his breath as he kicks the door closed after the cat. “At least we’ll be able to have dinner in peace now.”

“Hmm…” Ratau grumbles, staring at the cup Narinder left behind.

“What did he say to you?” Ratoo asks, clearly taking his bad mood as a sign that Narinder did something while he was gone.

“Nothing.” Ratau shakes his head. “It’s what I said that has me bummed.” Downing the rest of his cup, Ratau takes a deep breath as he pours himself another. “Let’s just enjoy our meal before we return to work. I have a feeling that Narinder’s going to leave us alone for a while.”

While Ratoo sighs with relief at that news, Ratau can’t help but feel bad. He’s never seen Narinder get that quiet. Whenever he locked up like that, he was trying to pick his words and maintain his composure while discussing something he didn’t want to speak about, but he said nothing. He just ran the first chance he got to avoid the conversation altogether.

Was he horrified that he might have been wrong about his siblings? That his hatred was misplaced? Is he ashamed of himself for growing fond of the disciples that were gifted to him by his sworn enemies?

Ratau has so many questions he wants to ask, but he decides to leave it for now. Narinder constantly made it clear that he didn’t want to speak with him and this was a situation he wasn’t going to force himself into. For now, he’s content to leave Narinder be so he can enjoy his own peace and quiet.

Besides, he’s still got a lot of work to do today.

Despite all the extra work and responsibilities he had here in the village, Ratau was growing to like his busy morning routine. No long walk to the stream for water, no weeding the gardens, yet he always had something to do to keep himself occupied. While having hundreds of neighbors wore on him after years of silence out in the woods, his early morning chores allowed him to enjoy the sights of the village without the constant yapping.

Fuel is added to the fires, the sleepyheads receive a knock on their door, and he waters the flowers around the temple. When people start to rise and the village starts to become active again, Ratau simply retreats into the temple to dust up the place and enjoy the quiet the sacred building offers him. Heading down the stairs, he even does Narinder a favor and tries to clean up Lamby’s room.

No doubt Lamby will know that someone went through their stuff, but at least everything is tidy now.

Slowly forcing his way back up the stairs, he leaves the temple to find that plenty of people are awake now and the usual work of the village resumes. There’s a not insignificant number of people who are missing though thanks to Lamby’s sermon yesterday. Of those who remain, some are still skeptical over where the village will go now that their lord admitted that their power was borrowed and eventually stolen from another god. Most still have faith in Lamby, but that faith wavered for others.

Ratau sits himself down before the large shrine, offering guidance and blessings to anyone who approaches him as he waits for breakfast. Things have calmed down considerably since yesterday, but tensions are still a bit high. They want to see their leader again, to speak to them personally about what’s going on. Ratau assures them all that Lamby will return, but he can’t say when. Maybe they’ll return today, maybe in a week. Their crusades could stretch on for a while, and with the new dangers they face, who knows how long it will take them.

One question remains on everyone’s mind, especially after the events from yesterday. People are still worried and curious about Narinder. Ratau himself can’t help but be curious too.

The old lord didn’t cause any more trouble last night and seemed to stay secluded in his cabin for the day. It was now getting late into the morning and there was still no sign of him. Most of the villagers are relieved, but Ratau can’t help but worry. For as impulsive, hostile, and stupid as that miserable cat is, there’s no doubt in Ratau’s mind that there’s at least a smidgeon of the lord who cared for him in there.

Rising from his seat, Ratau ventures towards the kitchen to grab another bowl and to inform them that if Narinder comes around, they should serve him. Breakfast in hand, Ratau cuts across the village to the lonely cabin near the edge of the clearing. Stopping at the door, he gives it three knocks, and same as yesterday, he gets an immediate response.

“Begone!” Narinder shouts from inside.

“I just came by to-”

“There is nothing I wish to speak to you about, rat!” Narinder interrupts before Ratau can explain why he’s there. “Leave me!”

“You don’t want breakfast?” Ratau asks, and Narinder doesn’t immediately reply with a threat. Several seconds pass in silence before he hears movement in the house and the door eventually opens up. Narinder glares at him through the barely opened crack in the door, holding out a hand expectantly. Ratau’s about to hand off the bowl, when a sudden commotion in the village catches his attention.

Ratau turns to find everyone suddenly making their way to the stairs shouting cheers and praise. Lamby must have returned. While he’s distracted, Narinder snatches the bowl out of his hands and quickly shuts the door once he has what he wants.

“Enjoy your meal, my lord.” Ratau tells Narinder through the closed door. “I’m going to go speak with Lamby now. Do you want me to return with your grimoire?” He gets no response. “If Lamby isn’t too battered from their journey, I can also finally tell them that you want a place that’s a little more put together if you’d like. It’s my duty to make sure everyone here is happy. Are there any other requests you’d like me to make?” Still no response. Ratau sighs and turns away, content that with breakfast Narinder will be fine hiding away in his cabin for a little longer, but before he can leave, Narinder finally speaks up.

“My b…” Ratau pauses, lingering by the door. “My disciples.” Narinder speaks in a monotone. “If you thieves will not return my crown, return my disciples at the very least.”

“Very well, my lord.” Ratau tells him through the door. “I’m sure Lamby will gladly grant your request.”

Stepping away from the cabin, Ratau moves to meet up with the little lord who’s returned from their long mission. He doesn’t know for certain and he doubts Narinder will ever give him a straight answer, but he believes that he might actually be getting through to him. Narinder felt betrayed and has spent his whole life stewing in hatred until it was all he knew. Striping away his powers hasn’t made him any better, but he was slowly learning the truth, he was finally experiencing the freedom he was granted…

And he’s finally starting to appreciate what he has. Despite being given to him by his sworn enemy, a sibling he dedicated a thousand years to plotting his revenge against, he still desperately wants to see his disciples.

If he can overcome his hatred for them, Ratau’s sure he can do the same for others.

Chapter Text

Stepping through the temple doors, Lamby nearly collapses onto the stone floor once silence settles over them. They returned home victorious, proving to the skeptics that they were still the powerful leader they swore themselves to, but now that they’re in the quiet and safety of their temple, everything comes rushing in all at once. Their hands tremble again and they fear that this new tick of theirs may never go away.

It was hell out there. The undead enemies they fight are durable and furious. More than their desire to find peace, they want to make Lamby hurt for what they did to them. Cursed hellfire, their sharpened blade, even the unleashed wrath of the Red Crown couldn’t take them down cleanly. Every enemy took an incredible amount of effort to keep down, but they managed with only minor injuries for the most part.

That changed once they came across an old temple that they had raided years ago.

Leshy wasn’t dead. He still received worship from his most devout followers even in undeath, now sharing in their lord’s suffering and swearing to avenge him. Lamby was forced to try and clear the place out, but among the ravenous undead zealots…

It couldn’t have actually been Amdusias…

They brought him back once, curing him of the mutations he underwent when they first fought. What reason would Narinder have to deny him his peaceful rest the second time he died? What they saw out there had to have been some other poor soul who happened to look like him. Maybe it was a specter of some kind, a copy of the beast Amdusias became and not the man himself. They pray that’s what it was, that Amdusias is still at peace for his sacrifice.

Whatever that thing was, it did not go down easy. It nearly managed to bite Lamby’s head off, but they just barely managed to put it down for good. When it faded away, there was something left behind that the Red Crown immediately urged them to take. Rising from their head now, the crown rests in front of them and Lamby holds out their hand as it deposits the strange treasure into their palm.

A strange tear shaped crystal of white and gold. Despite looking like a big crystal of ice, it feels warm and slightly damp to the touch. Two golden rings float around it, held up by absolutely nothing but never falling.

”A god’s tear.”

”What may cause a god to weep?”

Lamby shed plenty of tears on their short crusade. Seeing all these poor souls suffering all because of them. If the old god was so adamant about them fixing this, perhaps this tear belongs to them. It didn’t seem to care about the other gods of the Old Faith making a mess of everything, but Narinder’s cruelty was something so outlandish and sadistic that it made even the unflappable old gods weep for the innocent souls affected by his hatred.

They hated that damned cat! They loved him once, they used to feel so safe and happy in his presence. After living a life of fear and isolation for so long, having a lord they could trust in and the power to make things better was the greatest joy they ever had. They wanted to repay him for the only joy they felt in years, for giving them even a shred of hope, but…

The temple doors open. The Red Crown falls to Lamby’s hands and swallows the tear into its void before returning to their head as they turn to meet whoever stepped in to see them. They break into a wide smile when they see it’s Ratau.

“Goodness. You look exhausted, Lamby.” Ratau steps forward, leaning on his stick until he’s close enough to hold his arms out for a hug. “You doing alright, kiddo?”

“I had a rough day.” Lamby sighs, wrapping their arms around Ratau and holding him close. It's incredible how this lovable old geezer made them feel just as safe and loved as Narinder did at his kindest. “I did good work, though I fear I still have a lot ahead of me. Did you handle things well while I was away?”

“I managed.” Ratau chuckles, though there’s a tiredness in his voice. “There were a few issues that came up.”

“What did he do?” Lamby immediately asks. There was only one real trouble maker out here.

“A bunch of stuff, but nothing too serious.” Ratau assures them. “I’ll get to him, but there’s other matters that need your attention.”

Lamby nods and gestures to the nearest pew, leading Ratau towards it so he can get off his feet and relax. Lamby was desperate for rest too, the Red Crown had its limits and it would need to feast on devotion to regain its strength. Sitting beside their friend, they listen intently as Ratau lists off everything that’s happened in their absence.

“Twenty people have left your flock.” Ratau informs grimly. “There are many who were left confused and angry by your sermon and the news that they were misled. A few of those angry people took the opportunity to leave while you were away. I wished them well and helped them pack. I’m sure that’s what you’d want for them, am I right?”

“I was misled too.” Lamby nods. “I still hope in vain that there’s good in that bastard cat, but I lose faith in that belief with every passing day.”

“Hmm…” Ratau grumbles before he continues with his report. “Those who remain are questioning their faith and slacking with their work. You’re going to have to prove to them that you still have their best interests at heart, though I’m sure that won’t be hard for you.” Lamby nods. Their next big project should be proof enough. “They’re all also curious and a little unnerved about our guest. You’re going to have to come up with a solid reason as to why you’re keeping him here.”

“Speaking of…” Lamby turns to Ratau. “What did he do?”

“Ok, so first…” Ratau starts and Lamby’s ears flatten against their head with dismay. He has a list? “He marched up to the gates and demanded that the old gods return his crown and lordship. It did not go well for him and I thought for a moment that the old god took him out then and there. I got a little messed up just being close to him when it happened and caught a glimpse of what the thing actually looked like. I don’t think I’m ever going back up there again after that.”

“Are you alright?” Lamby asks, suddenly worried. Old god or not, if that thing hurt Ratau…

“I’m fine.” Ratau assures them. “I just needed a sit down and some tea and I was right as rain.”

“So what the hell did he do after that?” Lamby asks, relieved to hear that Ratau was fine. “He didn’t stop acting out after confronting the being at the gate?”

“Well, he came here and started rummaging around in your room to find his book.” Lamby immediately rises from their seat to investigate but Ratau quickly reaches out for them to try and get them to sit back down. “I went down there and cleaned it up myself this morning. He dug through a few of your drawers and I made sure everything was folded up nice.”

“I need locks on my door…” Lamby growls. Damn cat digging through their stuff.

“He’d like his book back, by the way.” Ratau tells them.

“What else did he do?” Lamby asks. “If he caused any more trouble after digging through my stuff…”

“The servers at the kitchens weren’t giving him anything so he came to me to fix the problem.” Ratau explains. “I kept him over and shared some tea as I chatted with him and… I think I upset him.” Lamby looks Ratau over, but from the tone of his voice, Lamby can tell that Narinder didn’t get angry with him. “He hasn’t left his home since. I feel that he may be out of our hair for a little while.”

As much as Lamby wished they didn’t care, they’re too curious not to ask. “What did you talk about?”

“Aym and Baal.” Ratau says. “He didn’t know they were given to him as gifts by Shamura. He kind of just locked up after I told him the same story you told me and he’s been quiet since. I tried talking to him again just as you came back and made a request I assured him you’d grant.”

“And what’s that?” Lamby asks.

“He wants to see them again.” Ratau says. “He wants you to free them too.”

Lamby stays quiet for a moment, letting the request linger in their head. Aym and Baal were the closest thing to siblings that Lamby had and they were heartbroken when they were forced to fight. The whole reason they left for the gate in the first place was to see if they could find them and bring them out of the afterlife, but the old god appeared before they could make it. Hearing that Narinder wanted them back, could it be that he actually still cared for them?

Or did he just want servants who would fold to his every demand again?

“I’ll do my best.” Lamby promises. Regardless of Narinder’s intentions with his disciples, they didn’t deserve what they got. They deserve to be out here, to experience the life that was stolen from them. They deserve to see their mother who still weeps for them, praying to any lord who would listen that they return to her one day. Lamby’s the only lord left hearing her prayers. The task falls solely on them now.

“I understand that your reasons for keeping Narinder around are complicated, but I’ve put in the effort to try and reach him.” Ratau explains. “He’s a spiteful, selfish, inconsiderate asshole, but I do genuinely believe that there’s some shred of good in him. Maybe it’s not worth putting up with everything else just to see that tiny sliver of good, but if you’re still hoping to see the lord you once respected and loved, I feel that you’re going to have to make the effort to get him there, even though he’s the one who hurt us.”

“Alright…” Lamby sighs. “I’ll talk to him. Later though. My flock wants to hear from me again and I have news that I need to share. That… and I’m very tired.”

“I can tell.” Ratau nods. “You sit tight. I’ll ring the bell to summon everyone in a few minutes. Relax for now. You’re literally doing the lord's work out there, you’ve earned the rest.”

“Thank you, Ratau.” Lamby says, leaning over and resting their head against his shoulder before he can get up from the pew. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, kiddo.” Ratau chuckles, though Lamby can hear him choke up just a little. “I’ve lived a very long, but very uneventful life after I was cast out. The moment I met you, I’ve never been more fulfilled. Go ahead and get some shuteye, I’ll keep everyone busy for a little while longer so you can get some peace and quiet.”

“That’d be nice…” Lamby mumbles, their eyelids already growing heavy. They aren’t supposed to get tired. The crown ensures that they are always fit to fight, but their whole body aches. They were safe here, they had someone watching over them to make sure they would be able to sleep soundly. Not even Narinder could grant them this peace. Sleep was just an excuse to see him and train with his disciples.

They’re not sure what will happen if they try to sleep now that the lord isn’t here to whisk them away, all they know is that Ratau will be here when they wake up and that’s all the assurance they need to let sleep take them.

Lamby opens their eyes and finds themself in the cool fog of the afterlife, just as they always have. Sitting up and looking around though, they find that it’s still a mess. The once familiar and comforting stretch of the afterlife they always woke up in is still ravaged by the battle that took place here. The bone ash beneath them is still stained red. The endless white that used to stretch on for miles has been tainted by the terrible battle, leaving it dark and foreboding.

Lamby’s hands start to tremble again as terrible memories flood their mind.

They push up to their feet and walk forward, wandering the afterlife which was technically now their domain. Despite the ruin which has befallen the place, they still know the path they always took to reach the lord.

It doesn’t take long to find the battleground. The broken chains, the spilled ichor, the bloodstained crosses their followers were nailed to. This place used to give them so much comfort, it’s what it was designed to do. Lamby can’t help but worry if their battle here disturbed the rest of the dead.

They aren’t alone though.

Standing over the bloodied, shredded remains of Narinder’s cloak and chains, the luminous form of the old god hovers off the ground, staring down at the tainted land. It turns to face Lamby, the star filled void just beneath its cloak forming eyes to see with. Lamby stands frozen, looking up at it with unease.

“You spared him.” It speaks and Lamby can’t help but flinch. It sounded like it was coming from within their head instead of being projected from the divine entity. It was hard to think with its voice overpowering their thoughts. ”You tore him asunder, stripping him of his power and godly form, but you allowed him to live as a mortal man. Why?”

“I don’t…” Lamby shakes their head, trying to unjumble their thoughts as they meet the eyes of the ancient god. “I don’t want to be like him or any of the other gods.” They eventually tell it. They’ve been trying to find the best way to really voice why they did it and there was no better time than now. “Narinder was a vengeful, spiteful lord who cared for no one and didn’t understand the value of a life. He abused his power, and he used me to extend his reach and slaughter thousands just to try and throw me away when my job was done. I want to be better than him, I want to be the idealized version of him that he presented when we first met. I want to be a benevolent lord, a forgiving one. I understand the value of a life, so I allowed him to keep his.”

The god turns fully to face them, its eyes lingering on their small form. It remains silent for what feels like an eternity, but when it speaks again, its voice is much gentler.

“I have underestimated you…” The god hovers forwards, its towering body dwarfing Lamby. They stumble back a couple steps in fear, tripping over a fallen chain and landing on their butt, staring up at the god. “Lamby. God of Death. Usurper of the Red Crown. You have something of mine. Return it to me.”

Lamby stares up at the god, unsure of what it’s asking for, but panic seizes through their whole body when the Red Crown lifts off their head. They reach out for it, fearing that the Old God was stealing it away from them, but before they could grab hold of the crown, it shakes out the strange tear that they pulled from the monster they found in the Darkwood. The tear remains in the air as the crown returns to Lamby’s head. The god inches closer and the tear starts to move, gently floating upward towards the being for it to see.

“Not many things move me, lamb.” It says. “This world was meant to be broken, to be altered and changed as the crowned lords saw fit. Even the slaughter of me and my kin did not draw tears from us, in fact, we admired the lords’ ambition and ferocity. Some things were sacred though. This realm was to house the mortals who were not blessed by us, a heaven that made the cruelty of the lords acceptable for a peaceful paradise awaited them in the end. To see it in this state… to see what has befallen the souls of those Narinder cast aside… But you. You have put one of those tortured souls to rest. A mortal born god, the first of your kind. Though I did not ordain it, your lordship is recognized.”

“Th-thank you.” Lamby says, pushing to their feet as the tear floats into the empty void beneath the god’s cloak. They stare at each other for a moment, the silence stretching on for longer than Lamby would like, though they’re too nervous to raise their voice against the old god.

“Infant lord.” The god finally commands. “Continue your work. You are comparatively powerless compared to the full might and potential of the gods you’ve slain, but if you truly have the resolve of a lord and you can collect my shed tears from the monstrosities your predecessor created, I will assist you.”

“How so?” Lamby asks, warming up just a little bit to the terrifying god.

“The lords that came before you made offerings just as mortals did to them for favors and blessings.” The old god explains. “My tears will serve as tokens, showing your progress in your task. In exchange, I will grant you power, gifts, and more. But first, before we barter, there is one more thing you must grant me.”

“What is it?” Lamby asks, unsure about the idea of making deals with higher beings again after how poorly it’s gone so far but desperate for any boon they can get to try and continue their work.

“A name.” The god tells them. “Mine has been forgotten, the memories of who I once was faded with time. If we are to form a contract, I must sign it, and for that, I need a name.”

“A name?” Lamby stares up at the god in confusion. The god simply waits for them to grant it one. A contract cannot be struck without one.

Lamby stares up at it, at its pristine white robes and the inky black void that waits just beneath them. Stars twinkle in and out of its body and face, celestial bodies floating around behind its eyes.

They’ve grown quite fond of the night sky and the stars within it. The golden trinkets around Clauneck’s camp signified a place of safety for them and the only peace they were afforded back home was in the dead of night while everyone was asleep. During those quiet nights, Lamby stared up at the stars, reading about the constellations and trying to find each one in the night sky. Lamby was often described as a phoenix by Narinder, rising again and again better than before. The minor constellation bearing the same name became a favorite of theirs, but seeing the divine being of stars in front of them, Lamby figures it fit them well. Lamby doesn’t know what the old gods were like in the past, but they were back and they were just as horrified by what’s happened to this world as Lamby was.

“Phoenix.” Lamby calls out. “Your name will be Phoenix.”

“Very well.” Phoenix bows its head. “The pact is sealed. Bring me more god tears, and I shall grant you favor. For the tear you have already given me, you are granted one wish. Use it wisely.”

Looking around the ruined hellscape the afterlife became, Lamby doesn’t even need to think about their decision. “I want you to watch over everyone I send here and put them to rest while I continue my crusades.” Lamby demands. “I cannot do it myself, not while there are still so many who are suffering.”

“A simple task.” Phoenix says. “So simple that it is already being done. Until your work is complete, I will oversee this domain. Prove your dedication to your crown’s purpose and you will be free to rule this domain, but until then, I will remain as this domain's sole ruler.”

“Do I still keep my wish then?” Lamby asks. Phoenix has no face, but its hood tilts forward slightly in a nod. Lamby’s relieved to know that someone who actually cares will look over this place, but now they have to think about what else they want. It takes them a minute, but there’s something fresh on their mind. They glance around the battlefield, searching for any trace of the twin disciples, but nothing remains of them. “Aym and Baal. Are they still here? I want to bring them back with me.”

“The gate guardians…” Phoenix remains silent for a moment, seemingly mulling over the request before something floats out of its cloak. It slowly falls to Lamby and they reach up and take it out of the air.

It’s a necklace of some kind. A band of white cloth with what looks like a spiked chakram resting at its front. Lamby doesn’t remember him wearing anything like this, but it was obvious that this was supposed to represent Baal in some way. This isn’t Baal himself though. Looking up at Phoenix for an explanation, it only offers a riddle instead.

“In order to gain, one must first give.” It tells them. “It is a lesson you seem to struggle with. I grant you this, but the next step must be by your hand, infant lord, else the lesson will never be learned.”

“B-but… What about Aym?!” Lamby asks.

“I have granted you your one gift.” Phoenix replies. “The other you must earn, same as this. Rise now, Lord of Death. There is much work to do, work you cannot accomplish here. Continue your crusades and we shall meet again.”

“But wait!” Lamby calls out. “What do you wa-

-an meh to… huh?” Lamby blinks their eyes and finds Phoenix has vanished. They try to look around but they aren’t even standing upright anymore, they’re laid out on one of the pews inside their temple.

“What was that?” Blearily turning their head, Lamby finds Ratau approaching them. “I didn’t quite catch that. Did you need something?”

“No…” Lamby sighs, pushing themself upright. As they do, something tumbles down their chest and they quickly reach their hand out to catch it before it hits the floor. Looking down at it, they find it’s the necklace they were given in their sleep.

“What’s that?” Ratau asks, joining Lamby’s side and helping them sit up. “Say… That kinda looks like… Where’d you get this?”

“The old god gave it to me…” Lamby says, sitting up straight and rubbing their eyes as they stare down at it. “I asked for Aym and Baal and they gave me this and told me to figure the rest out.”

In order to gain, one must first give. Lamby wishes they could have received a straight answer, but hearing Phoenix talk about a lesson they struggled to learn gave them a pretty good idea of what they needed to do. They knew the importance of their duty, they could effortlessly command the power of the crown, there was only one thing that they struggled with, the one thing that the old god was forcing them to do in order to open the gates again and gain the strength they need.

Lamby had to sacrifice another, a life for a life.

If they didn’t know better, they’d march right up to the gate and punch Phoenix in its stupid face for trying to push them into this. There was no arguing with the old god. It made its intentions clear, it wants them to fix the chaos left behind by Narinder and give people peace. Their goals are the same, but with how much Lamby struggled to run through the Darkwood, they needed to get stronger. This necklace would add just one more boon in exchange for one of their loyal followers that they did not want to part with.

“Ring the bell and gather the flock.” Lamby tells Ratau, standing up from the pew and stretching themself out. “I must tell those who remain what I’ve done during my mission and what they can expect if they remain here. I fear things might become a bit more difficult for us.”

“I already got that impression.” Ratau sighs. “I sometimes wish I could take your place and let you enjoy your youth instead of all this nonsense, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared of going back out there. I don’t think I’d make the same mistakes I did eighty years ago, but I’m scared of even being put into the position where I could make those same mistakes.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you in that situation either.” Lamby tells him. “I can’t imagine a life without this crown anymore after everything I’ve been through. It's my burden to bear, but please do not worry. As terrible as this responsibility and power is, it gives me the strength to endure too. You do too. Knowing that you’re here safe with everyone else keeps me going. Now please, ring the bell.”

“Very well, Lamby.” Ratau nods, turning to leave for the bell, though he lingers for a moment and looks back. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re shaking.”

Lamby immediately tucks their hands behind their back, but it’s too late now. Ratau was the one person they could be genuine and vulnerable around, but their trembling hands were something that they’ve kept to themself. They couldn’t get rid of the crown, they couldn’t abandon their duty, they had to stay strong. Lamby could go to Ratau for advice or to feel better if they were sad, but Ratau can’t fix this. Something was broken in them. Letting Ratau see it would only upset him.

“Lamby?” Ratau steps forward, his task forgotten.

“Can I spend the night at your house tonight?” Lamby eventually speaks up. “No guests, no drinks, just us two and some games to pass the time. I…” Lamby takes a deep breath, trying their hardest to remain composed and to stop their shaking hands. “I really need a break.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Lamby.” Ratau nods. “You’re always welcome to come over and tell me your worries. Something’s really eating you up, I can tell. Please, come on by and we can talk it out over some Knucklebones.”

“Thank you.” Lamby gives him a soft smile. “I’ll be over in the evening, but we have work to do.”

“Right.” Ratau nods and turns away again, this time actually leaving for the bell. Clenching their fists, Lamby forces their hands to stop shaking as they make their way to the stand to take their place behind the lectern. The temple doors open and their flock floods in, desperate to hear from them after their last sermon from the day before. As the seats are filled, they get a good look at just how many people have left. Seats remain empty and an entire pew lies untouched.

Before they get a chance to speak, a flood of questions come in. The flock demands answers for Narinder’s presence in the village, what their plans were now that they were no longer serving another lord, what happened to Fion. Lamby raises a hand to try and calm everyone down, but the flock is rowdier than usual. They try and wait for them to die down naturally, but they just keep hurling questions and demands without giving Lamby the chance to say anything.

“Quiet!” Lamby raises their voice just a little, but the effect is immediate. Everyone shuts up, their eyes wide. Have they ever done that before? They held authority here, but they’ve never really spoken with much authority like that. Even the most problematic followers were spoken to kindly even as they shouted in their face.

Lamby puts the thought aside for now. Their flock needs to hear what they have to say.

“I understand your concerns.” They say. “You question my intentions. In this land of lying lords, you fear that I simply replaced the tyrants you ran from. I understand that my word alone isn’t enough to convince you as I was fooled by kind words too. It is my hope that my actions will convince you my intentions are pure. I truly want nothing more than your safety and happiness, but as a newly crowned lord, I’m afraid my attention lies elsewhere now. My new duties have steep costs, but I will not take from you like the other lords did.”

“Speaking of; Narinder, the previous lord of death, will remain a resident here. I know that this decision baffles a lot of you, that many of you are untrusting in him or have been hurt by him. He’s hurt me more than you can imagine, but that is why he is here. To prove I am better than him, that I will not allow my mortal grievances get in the way of the lordly work that has been bestowed upon me. What I said earlier still stands. He will be punished accordingly if he ever brings harm to you, but for now, he has accepted my mercy and I have granted him the freedom he craved without the need for bloodshed.”

People start to talk again, soft murmurs between followers that Lamby can hear through the crown’s influence. Some are still confused, a couple more paranoid followers fear that they might still be under Narinder’s rule and that this is all some kind of ruse. Most seem somewhat understanding though. They might not exactly get why this matters so much to them, Lamby barely understands themself, but it was a reason they could mostly sympathize with. Lamby didn’t want to cause unneeded harm. Narinder can’t hurt anyone the way he is now, at least not on the apocalyptic scale that he could.

“What about Fion?!” One of the louder followers stands up. “When are the rest of us next?! Is she really gone?!”

“Fion is dead.” Lamby nods their head. “She went painlessly, returning to her husband in the afterlife and allowing me to enter the sealed off Darkwood once more to save almost a hundred souls over the course of a day. I will admit, under Narinder’s rule, he tried to instill the belief that you were all fodder within me. That lie never stuck, and while I’ve made mistakes that I’ve done my best to atone for, I have taken lives which were not ready to go. That will never happen again, no matter how much I have to suffer for it. Fion, Amdusias, Pumar, Yarlina, everyone who laid their lives down for me, I want them to be remembered and honored for their sacrifices. Their lives were precious and I want you all to know just how much they meant to me. I will personally build a shrine behind this temple in their honor, and should anyone be brave or selfless enough to support the cause by paying the greatest price you can pay, you will be honored too.”

The crowd’s reaction is mostly the same, some are still skeptical, some are frightened that they’ll come for them next despite saying they’ll never take someone unwilling, but once again people’s opinions shift for the better. The thought of a shrine for the fallen is almost unanimously agreed to be a good idea. Ratoo has made some comments about how narcissistic they must be to have grand statues and murals in their image literally all over the place, so working alone on a shrine made for their followers specifically appeals to almost everyone.

“Unless you have any more specific questions or concerns, I ask nothing more from you today other than your continued hard work.” Lamby makes some closing remarks, content that they’ve addressed everyone's biggest concerns and have assured most of the flock of what’s going on here. “I will have more to share tomorrow regarding my work in the Darkwood and what is being commanded of me, but for now, you may go.”

Most rise from their pews, some remain seated with questions. As the others leave, Lamby does their best to answer them.

“Ratau came back bloodied after walking up to the gates.” The yellow tabby Yahroi informs them. “What’s up there at the forbidden gates? Is it dangerous?!”

“Yes.” Lamby nods. “Not only do the gates themselves lead to danger, but something presides up there now, something that will leave you alone as long as you don’t go and bother it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want anyone to try and take care of it?” The cat offers.

“Yahroi, please don’t.” Ratau speaks up from his seat across the aisle from her. “We appreciate the enthusiasm, but please don’t get yourself into trouble.” Yahroi crosses her arms in disappointment.

“Will you be leaving again?” Another follower asks, an axolotl named Calari.

“Eventually, but I will stay for now, at least until I finish the new shrine I want built.” Lamby assures her. “I want to stay here to continue building up this sanctuary, but there is still work to be done and people who need help. There aren’t many of you who found this place, you were saved and brought to safety. There are still people looking for a safe haven from the cruelty of this world and I cannot save them if I remain here.”

“What do we do about Narinder?” Finally, the rooster Richard rises with a question. “I couldn’t help but notice that he isn't here and Ratau has been chasing after him all day yesterday.”

“Have you not had unruly neighbors before?” Lamby asks. “I understand that he’s more than just rude, but I doubt he has anything against any of you. His hatred lies solely with me and Ratau, his former vessels and usurpers. Treat him with complete apathy, try and show him respect, treat him as you would anyone else here. Despite what he was and what he’s done, he’s a mortal man now who must follow the same rules as anyone else. It is my hope that he may one day change for the better, but until then, just try your best to avoid him. I know he’s doing the same to you.”

The questions are wrapped up. Those who remained are satisfied and now leave to continue about their day. Ratau rises with them to watch over everyone, but before he gets too far, he stops and turns to give Lamby a smile and a nod. He’ll be waiting for them whenever they come to visit.

They are eventually left alone in the temple with nothing but their thoughts and their crown. Construction of a shrine worthy of their followers’ sacrifice will take some time and eat into their gold reserves if it is to match the grandeur of the other shrines and effigies around the village. Honoring the dead will be worth the costs, and with the undead cultists still worshiping and searching for sacrifices to feed their suffering lords, there will be plenty more gold stores to pillage from.

”More blood will be shed.”

”Are you not excited?”

Lamby grips the edges of the lectern, trying to keep their hands from trembling again.

They wish they weren’t.

Ratau is able to take it easier now that Lamby was here to draw most people’s attention. After the sermon was wrapped up, they immediately got to work on the new project they announced, dragging over a large slab of stone and clearing out a spot behind the temple to build it. They focus all of their attention into the work, slowly chiseling away at the stone with their crown while speaking with anyone who approaches to answer their questions and offer guidance.

Ratau passes them by occasionally to check on them, but they remain focused on their task. He isn’t sure if he should try and steer people away to let them work or let people get close to distract them. It’s clear to him that they’re still distressed and they’re trying to focus their attention on work to not think about it.

Ratau’s fearful of what he’s going to hear tonight when they come visit.

He keeps himself busy too. He waters the flowers, he breaks up an argument between a couple rowdy followers, and when supper time comes around, Ratau makes sure to get an extra serving from the kitchen to bring over to the still seclusive Narinder. Ratau gave his door a knock and received the usual threats of violence through the door so Ratau left the food by the doorstep for him to grab whenever he was ready.

He probably shouldn’t be hand delivering meals like a servant, but it’s keeping him out of the way of the general public who is either terrified of him, hate his guts, or both. He feels he’s making some progress in making him act like a normal person, but the flock's opinion of him will make him opening up much harder.

The sun starts to set as evening settles in. Returning home for the night, he lets his brother know of Lamby’s special request. Ratoo’s still a bit of a night owl anyways so he has no problem stepping out so they could have their private discussion. Clearing off the table, Ratau readies his game board and dice before heating up some tea. Stronger drinks made gaming with friends a bit more fun, but Lamby wasn’t a fan of his drinking habits and he wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible.

It isn’t long before Lamby enters his home.

“Thank you for having me!” Lamby tells him, giving him a wide smile and bowing their head.

“Like I said, you’re free to visit any time.” Ratau tells them. “Ratoo’s no good at Knucklebones, I’m always happy to play someone who actually challenges me. Also, even with that crown on your head, you still need breaks from time to time. Come on, sit down.”

Lamby graciously takes up the offer, but as they move for the chair, Ratau notices something. Lamby keeps their arms either behind their back or resting on their lap underneath the table once they sit down. Were they still shaking like they were from earlier?

“Ratau…” Lamby sighs, drawing Ratau’s eye to meet with theirs. “I don’t want to talk about that just yet. Let’s just play a couple games first.”

“I…” Did Lamby notice him staring, or… Glancing up at the Red Crown on their head, he’s reminded of the fact that Lamby could hear every thought in his head if they wanted to. Ah shit, they must have heard every single worried thought he had about them since the sermon, haven’t they? Despite not saying a word, Lamby nods their head. All that was overhead too. “Right, sorry about that.” Ratau says aloud. “I can’t help but worry, but I guess I know from experience what it’s like to be constantly coddled by older folks. Remind me never to play poker with you though.”

“I would never cheat!” Lamby pouts, offended by the mere thought. The Red Crown rises into the air from their head before gently setting itself down on the table beside them. “There. No mind reading, no godly powers at play. Just us, the dice, and the luck of the roll.”

“There’s no need for that. I trust you.” Ratau assures them, but after a moment, he tilts his head. “You know, I’ve seen you with the crown on your head so much, you look funny now without it.”

“How so?” Lamby asks, reaching up to the now empty spot between their horns.

“Well for one, this creepy little critter isn’t staring me down the whole time.” Ratau says, gesturing to the crown looking at him from the table. “Also, you usually have your wool braided, but that little spot is untouched.” Lamby reaches up to pat down on the unbrushed clump of wool between their horns. They break out into a giggle. He didn’t doubt that the smile they wore when they walked in was genuine, but their smile is much wider and fuller now. “Since you’re so eager to play, why don’t you go first.”

The next few minutes pass in relative peace. Lamby’s still better at this game than he is at this point, but he prides himself in being able to beat them at least once early on before they start taking the game seriously. They both drink some tea, they have some laughs, all while the crown watches the dice hit the table in front of it.

After the fifth game though, Ratau drops the question that neither of them wanted to broach, but it had to be brought up.

“Are you doing alright, Lamby?” Ratau finally asks. “I know this is all hard on you and you’re trying to show everyone you’re in control of the situation, but you can tell me what’s wrong. I wore the crown once too. I didn’t wear it for long, but if you fear that I won’t understand, trust me, I can still help you through whatever is troubling you.”

Lamby remains silent for a while. They take a sip of their tea, but when they place the cup down, Ratau notices a slight tremor in their fingers. It isn’t long before Lamby tucks their hands beneath their arms in an effort to hide it. Ratau first thought that they were spooked or cold when he saw them shaking earlier today, but seeing how quick it was to come back, he realizes this might be a deeper problem.

He’s only ever seen one person shake like that. Karacyth was completely inconsolable for days after the raid on their village, shaking like a leaf and holding himself tight to try and stop it. Seeing Lamby in a similar state gets him shivering himself.

“How…” Lamby doesn’t meet his eye when they finally speak. “How did you feel on your crusades?” They manage to get out. “Did you… like them?”

“I’d say ‘like’ is a strong word.” Ratau says. “There were certainly highlights. It was always nice to see Clauneck or Kudaai, I got to save people’s lives, I even met one of my best friends on a crusade. In general though, it was not a pleasant experience. Getting hurt all the time, dealing with the people who hurt my friends and family. I wanted revenge and Narinder used that desire to get me out there and fight, but it really wasn’t for me. I kept going because it was my duty, because I wanted to avenge my lord and protect my flock. It was a chore. A bloody violent chore which sickens me now knowing what Narinder did to everyone I slaughtered.”

Lamby’s eyes are on the floor now, their head down as they continue to hold their hands beneath their arms. Ratau isn’t sure what to do. He doesn’t want to push them, whatever’s going on is clearly eating them up inside, but… He can’t just sit here, can he?

“Lamby?” Ratau leans forward. “Is it getting too hard? Are you sick of all the fighting?”

“No…” Lamby shakes their head, still avoiding eye contact. “I… I like it…”

Ratau sits silently for a while, trying to drink that answer in. “You… like it?”

“The swords clashing, blood flying. Seeing the life leave their bodies…” Lamby looks up at Ratau with horror in their eyes. “I like it.”

Ratau becomes frozen with shock. Glancing at the crown on the table, he’s beyond relieved to see it off Lamby’s head. He doesn’t want them to hear the horrified thoughts flooding his brain right now.

“B-but…” He stutters, trying to think of what to say. “That isn’t true. You’re not a violent person. You don’t like hurting other people. Your recent sacrifices are proof of that, I’m proof of that. You’d never hurt us.”

“You’re all exceptions to the rule.” Lamby states coldly. “You’re my friends, the only thing resembling a family that I have. I’d never hurt you, but from the moment I wore my crown… No, long before that, I was taught that everyone was my enemy. Mom taught me to run away and hide, but it didn’t save us. Narinder taught me to fight back. It was scary at first, I hated it so much, but as the years passed, it became easier and easier to slay the heretics of the Old Faith, so much so that I started to like it. One swing of my sword and the bad people went away. Seeing the look of horror in their eyes when they realize I’m not a helpless soul they can prey upon tickles my brain in a way I can’t describe.”

Ratau can’t sit still anymore. He shifts around on his seat. He scratches the back of his hand. He glances at the crown, wanting to believe that this was all its fault, but it was just a tool. It wanted to put people to rest, but it was subservient to Lamby and no one else. It wouldn’t do anything Lamby didn’t want to do.

“Lashing out against the fox was one of the greatest feelings in the world…” Lamby continues, averting their eyes again to avoid seeing Ratau’s reaction. “Hearing his bones snap, seeing the look of fear in his eyes when he realized he would die if he stayed. It’s a high I’m still chasing. Nothing has been more satisfying, though what I did to Narinder was a close second. Slaying the lords who terrorized me my whole life made me feel like a god long before I was officially recognized as one. Thousands of lambs must have begged them for mercy just to be snuffed out without a thought, so hearing them beg me for mercy…”

Despite hugging themself tight, Lamby still visibly shook. Even though they were talking about how much they loved this violence and the pain they inflicted on the bishops, Ratau can tell that it haunts them. They don’t want to be like this, they know that this is wrong and terrible, but it’s still what they feel.

“I never wanted to hurt anymore more than Narinder.” Lamby says in a low mumble. “I didn’t even hate the fox as much, even after what he did to you. Narinder hurt all of us, he made me like this, he’s the reason mom died. I hate him so much, but I was so scared of what was happening to me that I… I just…”

“Please, take it easy Lamby.” They were breathing heavily and shaking really bad. Ratau is unsure if he should walk over and try and comfort them or keep his distance, both for their sake and his own safety. “Take your time, just breathe kiddo.” Lamby takes a moment to take some deep breaths, reaching a hand out to drink their tea. Their hand shakes when they pull it free from under their arm and they have to grip their cup tightly to try and fight it. Taking a sip and setting it back down, Lamby finds the strength to keep going.

“I felt myself losing it during our fight.” Lamby shudders, their voice barely a whisper. “All I saw was red. All I wanted to do was tear Narinder apart piece by piece, but he was just too strong. When I landed next to you and heard your voice, I snapped out of it for just a second and I… I almost gave up. Whatever Narinder would do to me would be better than losing what sanity I had left, but the crown wanted more. It wanted me to keep fighting, to keep it away from him. When you tried to free yourself, I passed the crown on to you, not just for you to save me, but in the hopes that without its power, Narinder would kill me and spare me from whatever was happening to me.”

“Lamby…” Ratau feels his blood run cold. Putting aside all worry, Ratau gets out of his chair and hurries over to Lamby to wrap them in his arms. They keep their arms wrapped around themself, but they lean into his embrace, shaking in his arms. “Lamby, why didn’t you…”

“I don’t think you can fix this…” Lamby heaves. “I’m going crazy but I can’t stop anymore. I don’t want to give anyone the crown because the same might happen to them and… I need it. I need to know I have a weapon on hand. I need to know that if anyone tries to hurt you or me, I can cut them in two. You don’t like fighting, you only did it out of necessity, but…”

“It’s alright.” Ratau continues trying to comfort them. “If you still think you’re a bad person, you’re not. Narinder didn’t turn you into a monster no matter what you think. Even if everything you said is true, that you like all this terrible stuff, you’re still doing it to protect us. There’s still a big part of you that cares. You didn’t enjoy what you did to your sacrifices.”

“But I did…” Lamby whines. “I loved feeding the crown, knowing that it would make me stronger and my fights easier. I made sacrifices whenever I could, even if those I picked weren’t willing. You were one of those sacrifices, a trade that I didn’t even give much thought to so I could get stronger. But just like you did against Narinder, seeing you made something snap in my brain and I realized I was making a terrible mistake. I’m only horrified by what I’ve done now, but in the moment, I would have happily given everyone’s lives away for my own benefit. I was no better than the gods I was supposed to protect everyone from.”

“That’s in the past now.” Ratau tries to reason. “Narinder had a veil over you, but you see clearly now that what you were doing was wrong. You’re better, you’re actively trying to atone for what you did by helping these people and undoing the harm you’ve done. You’ve… You even forgave Narinder.”

“I haven’t…” Lamby admits, giving Ratau pause. “I’m only keeping him alive to keep myself in check.”

“What do you mean?” Ratau asks. Lamby’s told him several times now that they spared him because they wanted to prove that they were merciful and kind, but this was different.

“I was this close to killing him.” Lamby says, their voice taking on a low growl. “Seeing what he did to you, knowing what he would do to everyone else, I took the crown back with the full intention of killing him. I tore into him slowly, taking my time in torturing him as I chipped away at him with my blade. I could feel his strength fading, hear his cries for mercy growing weaker, and as I tore into his chest to pry his heart free, I could feel the crown’s hunger merge with my own.”

“I stopped though. I stopped just shy of tearing his rotten heart out of his chest. He broke my mind, turned me into a monster just like him. Killing him would only prove that I was the monster he made out of me. I haven’t forgiven him. Every time I see your scars, every time my followers worry about him possibly hurting them, every time I draw my blade and cut down the cursed souls he denied death, I want to rip that bastard cat apart with my bare hands. I only allow him to live as proof that I’m better than that, that I’m not a bloodthirsty monster, that I still have my sanity. I will never forgive him for making me this way. The mercy I show him is not for his sake, but for mine.”

Ratau stands silently, still holding the poor kid close, unsure of what to say. What could he say? He almost understands why Lamby kept this from him. He doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Are you scared of me?” Lamby asks when the silence stretches on for too long.

“No.” Ratau answers immediately and honestly. “You won’t ever hurt me, I have no reason to fear you.”

“But I-”

“There’s kindness in your heart, Lamby.” Ratau interrupts, not allowing Lamby to argue. “Even after everything that was done to you, even with everything that still plagues your mind, you are a thoughtful and kind soul. I’m proud of you, of what you made this place into, of what you want to become for these people. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to change that in my eyes. Please, don’t beat yourself up. You aren’t a monster, you aren’t a tyrant. You’re my child, and no matter what, I’ll always be here for you.”

For the first time since Ratau hugged them, Lamby untucks their hands from under their arms and returns the embrace, holding Ratau tight as tears spring from their eyes. The poor, poor thing.

He doesn’t need to understand everything going on through their head or how much this eats up at them. He can make it better. He can’t fix it or even offer advice, but he doesn’t need to. Lamby just needs him to be here to be their anchor, to care for them while they care for everyone else. The crown watches them from the table, its eye never leaving them.

Was this all its fault? Was it messing with Lamby’s head and making them act out? It was a lifetime ago, but Ratau remembers how much he grew to rely on the crown too and how much he appreciated its constant companionship on his crusades. Maybe it is bad for Lamby, maybe it is driving them towards violence, but it also wishes to protect them. It reached out to Ratau in their most dire moment, desperate to save its host with his help. It did care for them, it just can’t give Lamby the same care he can.

He hears something, a whisper, just quiet enough that he can’t make out the words. It was trying to speak to him. Was it trying to insult him for thinking it was inferior to him in any way? Was it trying to thank him for providing Lamby with something it can’t? The whispers grow louder, the crown’s gaze becomes sharper, and through the chorus of ominous whispering, Ratau catches something that makes sense.

”Not useless.”

Ratau supposes both his guesses were correct. It was a backhanded compliment. He might be old and brittle and no use fighting, but he wasn’t completely useless in the crown’s eye. He’ll take it. The crown got an attitude in the time he spent away from it, but the fact that it could acknowledge anything positive in him made it better than Narinder at this point.

“Do you want to keep playing, Lamby?” Ratau asks, easing up a bit to look over them. They aren’t shaking anymore. They nod slowly. They needed time to heal and rest, what better way to do that than with a game or two with their old man. Ratau leaves their side to return to his seat and clear the board, but before he can get settled, the door behind Lamby opens up and the last person either of them wants to see steps inside.

From his seat at the table, Ratau sees Lamby go stock still and their expression becomes stoic and forced as Narinder stands in the doorway behind them. After hearing what Lamby said about their old lord, Ratau’s pulse spikes as he fears this close proximity might erupt.

“Once again, my lord, please knock next time.” Ratau tells Narinder, hoping to keep things casual. “You didn’t appreciate it when I barged in yesterday morning, did you? I don’t really appreciate you marching into my house without notice.”

“I want my grimoire.” Narinder tells him, completely ignoring Ratau’s words. “You said you’d get it for me and here you are wasting time instead of doing your job. Useless rat.”

Lamby is trembling again. Their flat expression starts to crack and turn to rage. Narinder glares down into the back of their head with pure contempt, unaware of the wrath boiling up just beneath the surface.

“You…” Narinder growls. “Vile thief. You’ve stolen everything from me. If you really are as kind and merciful as you claim to be to your following, prove it. Return the grimoire I so graciously shared with you before you stole it and everything else I had.”

Ratau sits in tense silence, terrified that something’s going to break out. He and Narinder had a tense enough relationship, but Lamby and Narinder despised each other with their whole being. Knowing now how deep seeded Lamby’s hatred was, he feared that they’d lash out at him at any moment.

Instead, Lamby slowly turns to face Narinder, the Red Crown remaining on the table but slowly inching towards them.

“Beg.”

The house falls silent as that word settles over everyone. “Excuse me?” Narinder asks, sounding both enraged but equal parts confused as well.

“Beg.” Lamby repeats, staring up at him with a look that sends shivers down Ratau’s spine. “Mortals don’t get to make demands to gods. You made that very clear to me under your tutelage. Anything you didn’t grace me with, I had to beg for, so beg.”

“You vile…” Narinder clenches his fists and with some shock Ratau sees red fall from his hands as his claws dig into his palms. “I’ll tear out your spine you miserable-”

“My lord!” Ratau speaks up, interjecting before anyone does something they’ll regret. “I think a simple please will suffice, right Lamby?” Ratau tries to plead with the kid. This isn’t what they wanted to do, they’d regret any hostilities in an instant and if Narinder’s still in one piece afterwards, he’d likely be way harder to deal with in the future. “You can do that much if it gets you your book back, right my lord?”

Ratau isn’t sure if what he’s asking is making things better or worse for the situation. Some of Narinder’s hatred seems to be turning towards him for making such a suggestion, but Narinder doesn’t act on it. In fact, he opens his mouth, struggling to get anything out but he eventually manages.

“Please… return my grimoire, thief…” With the way he said it, Ratau would have assumed that simply uttering the word ‘please’ caused him physical pain. Ratau looks to Lamby praying that they’ll play along and hand the book over.

The barest hint of a satisfied smile forms on Lamby’s face as they hold out their hand and the crown rushes to it. Narinder flinches at the movement, believing that Lamby might be swinging at him, but the crown stops just above Lamby’s hand and deposits Narinder’s dusty old tome into it. They hold it out for him, waiting for him to take it. After a few hesitant moments, Narinder quickly reaches out and snatches it from their hand, holding it tight to himself as he backs away.

“Don’t mistake this as an act of charity, thief!” Narinder blurts, backing up through the open door outside. “You stole this from me, just like everything else I ever had. You will return everything you’ve stolen in time, I’ll make sure of it.”

“Sure you will…” Lamby says, their face still and their voice monotone. One again, Ratau can’t help but shiver slightly. Narinder did that too. Lamby must have picked up the habit from him. “Leave us. You aren’t wanted here.”

Narinder lingers by the doorway for a second, perhaps to contemplate sticking around to harass them some more, but he comes to his senses and scurries off with his prize in hand, disappearing into the dark and leaving the door wide open for the bugs to get in. Lamby lets out a shuddery sigh once he’s gone. Getting up from their seat, they walk over and shut the door before sitting themself back down. The shakes are back.

“That could have gone better.” Ratau comments, drawing Lamby’s attention to him. “I fully understand now why you try and keep him around, but I’m not entirely sure this is the best move. You’re just stewing in negativity any time you’re forced to interact with him. You’re making yourself miserable.”

“I consider it my punishment for the crimes I committed in his name and a constant test of will.” Lamby says, reaching for the crown to return it to their head. “I won’t break, even though I want him to.”

“Well you need to figure something out.” Ratau tells them. “I don’t know what to do about your violent urges or the damage he did to you, but I do know that this isn’t healthy and it’s just making things worse for you. He isn’t just an annoying neighbor, you’re supposed to be taking care of him. You can’t have things stay like this forever.”

“What do you suggest I do to change things then?” Lamby asks, sounding genuinely desperate. “You’ve tried to reach out to him and that isn’t working and I can never forgive him for what he did to us.”

“I am making progress though.” Ratau argues. “And if you aren’t willing to take the first steps, I’ll help you. You don’t have to forgive him, you don’t even have to like him, you just need to get to a point where you don’t want to kill each other. You can manage that much, I know you can.”

“And how am I going to do that?” Lamby asks.

“The same way I made friends with jerks.” Ratau says, clearing off the board on the table and readying his dice again. “As a plus side, maybe you can work out some of that aggression by beating him senseless in a few games. Put some gold on the table, let him think he’s stealing back from you so he’ll stop being such a miserable old grouch.”

“You really want to play board games with Narinder?” Lamby asks with a look of deep uncertainty.

“Why not.” Ratau shrugs. “I’m sure he’s got some great stories to share once he stops complaining and he lets his guard down. Come on, at least give it a chance.”

Lamby sighs, clearly not liking the sound of this idea, but as Ratau rolls his first die and places it on the board, Lamby is quick to take their turn next. “Fine.” Lamby sighs. “I feel that this is a really dumb idea, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Lamby.” Ratau says with a smile. “Don’t worry about it too much now. It probably won’t happen for a while. You’re busy, you’ve got plenty of work to get done, and I have to try and convince the cat to actually sit down and play. I tried to when I invited him over for drinks but he just threw the dice at me, but I’m sure I’ll convince him to at least watch a game by the end of the week.”

Lamby lets out a little chuckle, as they roll their dice. They both play in silence for a few rounds, trying to lighten up the mood again so they don’t have to end the night off on a sour note.

“Thank you…” Lamby says as their game nears its end. “I’m sorry that I hid all this from you, but I-”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” Ratau assures them. “I’m sorry I can’t give you an easy fix or really help at all with the fears that plague you, but just know that you’re no monster. I’m proud of you and everything you’ve done for us, no matter what you did. You care, you’re a kind and courageous person deep down, and despite what Narinder tried to do to you, he couldn’t kill that kindness.”

“Thank you…” Lamby repeats, tears springing from the corner of their eyes as they reach for the dice again.

A few more games pass in silence before the weight of Ratau’s eyelids becomes too much to bear. With a hug and a farewell, Lamby leaves the house to continue work on the shrine outside as Ratau cleans things up and prepares himself for bed.

His work was far from over. In these uncertain and dangerous times, Lamby needed care more than ever. The kid can only go so far on their own. Closing his eye and sinking into his mattress, he feels he’s going to have a busy week ahead of him as he tries to clear things up between the old and current lord of death.

Chapter Text

Lamby was off again, continuing their crusade in the Darkwood to put souls to rest and appease the old god that resides at the gateway. Ratau was once again left in charge in their absence, but now that things have had a chance to settle down a bit, he’s having a much easier time. The only real work Ratau’s had to do over the past two days was help two new followers settle in who were sent here by Lamby during their crusade. They looked absolutely petrified when they arrived, but they’ve both calmed down considerably under his and the flock's care. There was some truly terrifying stuff going on out there, but Lamby was doing their best to make things right.

He just hopes they’re taking care of themself out there too.

Watering the flowers around the village, Ratau wanders out behind the temple and stops to admire the newly erected shrine Lamby built all by themself over the course of a week. He waters the flower beds surrounding it and gets a good look.

It was a large slab of intricately carved stone with the depictions of crying crowns etched into its corners. Carved into the stone were small little cubbies which acted as miniature memorials for each name etched above it. Each one was stuffed with flowers, but also trinkets and knickknacks related to those who had passed. Glancing up at Fion’s small memorial, a small necklace rests on top of the bed of flowers inside, the last gift she received from her husband before he was taken from her.

It was a beautiful memorial, one that was frequented by the other members of the flock so they could pay their respects. Despite the change in management and treatment, this was still a death cult. These people were all here because they lost loved ones or had close scrapes with death themselves. They wanted the comfort and security that Lamby’s teachings brought them, and while their faith was shaken by the news that many were denied access to the afterlife by their previous lord, Lamby is working tirelessly to fix it.

There was a lot of empty space on that wall. Sacrifices needed to be made, as much as Lamby and Ratau hated that fact. They certainly didn’t want to encourage people to throw their lives at their feet, but people seem to find comfort in knowing that should they make the ultimate sacrifice, they will forever be memorialized here.

Ratau’s mind wanders for a moment, wondering if he’ll ever end up on the wall before quickly shaking his head and moving on to continue his duties.

Those duties eventually lead him to Narinder.

He has yet to receive a new home as requested, though Ratau’s worked to try and make his conditions a bit more manageable. Flower beds were planted along the trail leading to his home, some fancy scented candles were left for him to freshen up the musty old place, and despite his demands to be left alone, a quick coat of paint was applied to the outside of his cabin.

It probably wasn’t enough to satisfy him, but he hasn’t complained since. Ratau assumes that means he’s content with it. Narinder never complimented anyone or thanked them for doing something he liked, he just stopped whining. Ratau was making progress, though there was something he wanted to do before Lamby got back home. Aside from his quick runs to the kitchens to take food and the occasional walk out to the river to avoid the noise of the village, he’s been locked away in his cabin. Ratau wants game night to happen, but he needs the cat to come out to do that.

Marching up to Narinder’s door. Ratau gives it three knocks.

“My lord?” Ratau calls through the door. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

Ratau only hears an annoyed grumble from the other side of the door. Ratau’s tried speaking with Narinder enough times to know that this means he’s indifferent to the idea. Opening up the door, Ratau peeks inside the dimly lit cabin to find Narinder kneeling on the floor with his grimoire in one hand and a jagged dagger in his other. Ratau tenses slightly at the sight of the blade, but he steps inside anyways undeterred. Narinder’s claws and strength were dangerous enough but he’s still fine. The blade won’t change anything.

“What are you up to, my lord?” Ratau asks, glancing at what he thinks is bloodstains on the wooden floor. After a moment, Ratau realizes that a trickle of red was trailing down Narinder’s knife arm.

“None of your business…” Narinder grumbles, flicking to the next page of his grimoire with his thumb. It’s been a while since he’s done any of this stuff himself, but taking an extra step forward to get a better look at the stains on the floor, Ratau realizes that Narinder’s trying to make a ritual circle of some kind.

“I figured you wouldn’t need your grimoire to do this kind of stuff.” Ratau comments casually. He should probably be more concerned about this development, but Narinder has nothing to sacrifice and if he tries to steal something or someone to do it, Lamby will know. “You wrote the book after all.”

“Under the crown's command, I could alter the laws of reality with a mere thought.” Narinder growls. “I haven’t performed a ritual such as this in over three thousand years. It is unbecoming of a lord such as myself to stoop to such middling practices.”

“Your teachings served your vessels well.” Ratau reasons. “I’m sure they’ll serve you too. Though…” Ratau pauses for a moment. “It was by your power that these rituals bore fruit. Now that Lamby is the lord, would you be calling on them to help you complete the ritual?”

Narinder pauses for a moment before his face twists up in frustration and rage as he snaps his grimoire shut and stabs his dagger into the floor. Tossing his book to the side, Narinder pushes up to his feet and starts stomping towards the door. Ratau quickly backs out of the cabin, making way for Narinder as he storms out and starts walking towards the river. Shutting the door that Narinder left open, Ratau follows after him.

It takes a while for him to catch up, but by the time he reunites with Narinder again he’s sat down by the riverside, his bloodied hand sitting in the flowing water as he rinses the blood away. Ratau takes a seat by the riverside too, giving Narinder plenty of personal space.

“Sorry for breaking the bad news, my lord.” Ratau sighs. “At least I saved you from wasting any more blood and time.” Narinder just grumbles, idly flicking his fingers in the running water. “What were you even trying to do anyway?”

“I was trying to bring someone back from death.” Narinder says. “A task I have demanded from that vile lamb that they have not fulfilled.”

“Oh…” Ratau is left quiet for a moment. He’s got a pretty good guess as to who he’s trying to get back. “Well, um…” Ratau clears his throat. “Lamby is working on something, actually.”

Narinder lifts his head to look at him. An emotion threatens to peek out from his typical stoic façade. Was that hope?

“They’ve struck a bargain with the old god guarding the gate.” Ratau explains. “In exchange for their continued service and with offered sacrifices, they’re trying to bring Aym and Baal here to the mortal world.”

For just a brief moment, Ratau thinks he sees an actual smile on Narinder’s face. It’s only a brief moment though before he smothers it with his usual grouchy expression.

“What reason do they have to bring them back?” He asks. “Are they punishing them too? Forcing them to live as mortals under their rule?”

“I think they’ll like it here.” Ratau muses. “Not to disappoint you my lord, but I would often distract your disciples with tales from my crusades instead of studying with them. From what I understand, they were only infants when they were sacrificed to you. The only knowledge they have of this world is what you and I shared with them. Lamby got along well with them, I’m sure they shared plenty themself.”

“That lamb murdered my s…” Narinder bites his tongue, keeping himself from saying anything more.

“They’ll be back.” Ratau promises him. “Lamby and I miss them too. I’m not sure when, but they will be back.”

Narinder lets out a contented sigh. Ratau can tell that he misses those boys, even if he’s still trying to keep up his cagey, apathetic façade. “Was there anything specific you came to bother me with, or did you just come to annoy me because you have nothing better to do.” He turns to ask Ratau. “If you require nothing, then leave me be.”

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to play a game or two tonight.” Ratau says, causing Narinder to scrunch up his brows.

“Can you not take a hint?” Narinder shakes his head. “I will not spend the evening with a traitor like you. Leave me.”

“Come on my lord, please.” Ratau tries his best to convince him to change his mind. “What have you even been doing all this time? You don’t leave your home, you don’t talk to anyone. You must be absolutely miserable sitting in there all day.”

“Leave me to my misery.” Narinder commands. “I’m better off in my own company than in yours.”

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” Ratau counters. “You scare off everyone else who even tries to speak to you. I’m the only one you let close. You obviously enjoy my company enough to keep me around so why not try to enjoy yourself with a couple of games at my place? Ratoo will be busy, I can get the drinks out if you want, It’ll just be us two.” Narinder turns to stare down at the stream. “Or would you rather bum around in solitude reading your old diary full of rituals you can’t perform anymore?”

Narinder grumbles in frustration, his face scrunching up before he finally relents and turns to face Ratau again. “If I entertain this stupid idea of yours, will you leave me alone?”

“Maybe.” Ratau says with a smirk. “If you beat me, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day. Does that sound fair?”

Narinder glares at him for several seconds, but to Ratau’s delight, he actually rises to his feet. Ratau scrambles to get up too, trying to hide his smile from the lord who will no doubt find some reason to insult him if he sees how visibly excited he is for this. Without a word, Narinder follows behind Ratau like a shadow as he leads him back to the village.

There’s been plenty of time for everyone to calm down and get their bearings after Lamby’s return from the ritual, and while people weren’t immediately terrified of Narinder as he walked around in public, people weren’t exactly pleased to see him. Some people who want to ask Ratau something notice the cat following behind him and change their minds. The few who are brave enough to actually approach him make the conversation short as the distraction causes Narinder to glare at the poor soul until they go away.

“You really should try and be more sociable, my lord.” Ratau suggests as he watches the follower he just spoke to flee.

“I have no desire to speak to these heathens.” Narinder grunts dismissively.

“Why do you speak with me then?” Ratau asks.

“Because, former vessel,” Narinder stops to look down at him, “despite being a traitorous, backstabbing, blasphemous rat, you still serve your true lord.”

“I’m just being polite, my lord.” Ratau tells him. “I’m sure plenty of people here would show you the same kindness if you showed some in return.”

“My blessings are not given freely.” Narinder says. “They must be earned with worship and devotion.”

“Well I’m sorry my lord, but you work on mortal rules now.” Ratau informs him. “People don’t usually show respect to rude jackasses.”

Ratau would normally scold himself for saying something like that around Narinder, but the cat’s been a better sport about it recently. Ratau probably deserves a smack in the back of the head for some of his comments, but even with Lamby gone for the moment, Narinder wouldn’t dare touch a hair on the old man, especially with witnesses out here who really don’t like him.

They eventually make it home and Ratau immediately gets to work clearing off the table and gathering his dice. Narinder takes a seat at the table, still looking miserable and like he’s regretting this decision despite nothing even happening yet.

“Now I know I said that drinks were on the table, but you got a little bit carried away last time.” Ratau says with a chuckle. “Maybe when you were giant you could down bottle after bottle with no problem, but you were wasted halfway through just one. I’m gonna be keeping an eye on how much you put down.”

“Do not belittle me, rat!” Narinder barks. “I am not a child. I do not need you to act like an overprotective father.”

“Sorry my lord.” Ratau says, returning to the table with a board, dice, two cups, and a bottle of wine. “It’s my duty to watch over everyone here. I suppose I can get a little overbearing at times. Still though, I’d rather not have you pass out on my table and I’m sure you don’t want to get dropped through a portal back home when Lamby comes back, so please practice moderation.”

“I’d drink myself to death if it didn’t mean falling right into that traitor’s hands.” Narinder growls, snatching the bottle of wine the moment Ratau sets it on the table. He manages to get a decent sized swig out of it before Ratau manages to grab it and take it away from him, pouring him a small cup to sip from instead.

“You really hate this place that much?” Ratau asks, pouring himself a small cup of wine before setting the bottle down beside his chair out of reach. He feels he’s going to be in for another long winded rant from the fallen lord.

“I hate everything about my current situation!” Narinder barks, draining his shot immediately. Ratau doesn’t give him another fill. “This mortal existence is painful! The constant aching in my head and back, the fatigue that drains me every night, the… vile bodily functions I must perform in that stinking outhouse! You’ve worn a crown, you’ve had a taste of what true power is like. Never tiring, never feeling the pains of hunger or the strain of fatigue. That power is all I’ve ever known. To be reduced to this is sickening to the point that I want to snap my own neck!”

“Well there must be something keeping you going.” Ratau reasons, setting up the board and distributing the dice. “You’re still here after all.”

“I only put up with this nightmarish existence because if I die, that bastard gets a hold of my soul.” Narinder growls. “They tore me to pieces, murdered my disciples, and stole everything I have just to force me to live like this, pretending that what they’ve done to me is a kind mercy and not the torture that it is. There is no doubt in my mind that should I die, I will meet the same fate as my siblings.”

“Lamby wouldn’t do that.” Ratau is quick to retort, but Narinder scoffs.

“I watched them carve out the hearts of my siblings with glee.” Narinder tells him. “They have you fooled now, but they are capable of just as much cruelty as I, arguably even more so. They turned you against me, warping your feeble mind by saving you from the fox they fully intended to feed you too. They only did it to garner your unwavering loyalty, destroying your faith in me and replacing it with blasphemous ideas of treachery.”

“And you laughed when Lamby came to you after that encounter.” Ratau counters. “Your first vessel, your most loyal for eight long decades, and you commended Lamby on their cruelty and resourcefulness. You didn’t care about me, Lamby did. You laughed and tossed me aside, Lamby saved my life and took me in. What you did to your siblings and what you tried to do to all of us is proof enough that your love for us was never real, but I know for a fact that Lamby’s is, so shut your damn mouth!”

Silence falls over the room. Ratau can’t remember the last time he had an outburst like that if ever. Shrumy could get him riled up, but he never got him to shout with his full chest like that. Lamby was a good kid and all their faults could be attributed to Narinder’s manipulation and actions. He won’t stand to hear Narinder vilify everyone but himself.

Ratau sips his drink, desperate to cool down and praying that Narinder doesn’t leave. Glancing up at him, the cat gives him one of his typical glares, but there’s a hint of something more there. Before he can try and get a good read on him though, Ratau watches as Narinder picks up a die and drops it on the board, letting it clatter a bit before it rests on a five and he moves it into position.

Ratau can’t help but break into a smile. “So you did watch my games through the crown!” He says. “I don’t have to teach you how to play.”

Narinder looks almost ashamed for a moment, as if he revealed a terrible secret he shouldn’t have. “Just shut up and play!” He demands.

“I’m sure it got boring down there.” Ratau reasons. “I’d watch too if I-”

“Just play!” Narinder shouts and Ratau obliges, taking up his dice and making a roll himself.

The game goes on in silence. Ratau tries to hold back a smile the whole time, happy to have someone new to play with. Narinder plays aggressively, constantly trying to clear Ratau’s side of the board at the cost of his own combo potential. He could have had a pair of sixes on his center column, but he instead puts his second six on his right column just to get rid of the one Ratau had there. It isn’t long before he fills his side of the board, but with a bunch of single dice, his points don’t add up compared to the comparatively few dice Ratau has left.

“You did well for your first ever game, my lord.” Ratau tries to compliment Narinder, but he’s already rising to his feet.

“I have played your idiotic game, now leave me alone.” He huffs, turning to leave out the door.

“Hey wait!” Ratau calls out. “I said I’d leave you alone if you beat me.” He reminds him. “Sit back down, we’re not done yet!”

“Die.”

“Do you want me to keep following you around?” Ratau threatens, but Narinder’s still moving towards the door. Leaning over, Ratau grabs the bottle of wine. “I’ll refill your drink if you play another round.” Narinder pauses at that, so Ratau keeps it going. “Bless me with your presence, oh lord, and I will shower you in gifts.”

“Brown nosing is unbecoming of a vessel of the Red Crown.” Narinder scoffs, turning to face Ratau. “Is death’s disciple really that shameless?”

“I’m more than happy to have this all to myself and have a good night while you continue to sit in the dark of your lonely old cabin if you really want.” Ratau shrugs, sitting himself back down and finishing off the drink in his cup before pouring another one. Narinder stares at him, remaining by the door. Leaning forward, Ratau pours some wine into Narinder’s empty cup to try and draw him back in.

An internal conflict plays out behind Narinder’s three eyes, but he eventually concedes and returns to the table. Ratau holds his tongue to avoid saying anything that might make him change his mind as he resets the board and dice for another game.

He’s got him hooked. Now all he had to do was wait for the perfect time to get everyone together.

Lamby stares down at their reflection in the growing pool of blood flowing from the fallen beast guarding the temple they’ve liberated. Claw and teeth marks riddle their body, burning pain runs up and down their arms and legs. They watch as their spilled blood mingles with the monster’s and notes that theirs is darker, tainted with inky black ichor. A pleasant, tingly numbness overtakes their body, their heart pounding in their chest as they try to calm themself down after the fierce fight.

They felt both ecstatic and sick to their stomach.

They fall to their knees, the adrenaline rush wearing off and their injuries catching up to them. They almost didn’t make it this time. They’ll try to push their way to the next temple on their next crusade, but they aren’t sure if they’re going to be able to keep up like this. They needed to get strong, but they were curious to see how far they could push themself.

Lamby tries to swallow the blood pooling in the back of their mouth, but the taste of blood on their tongue feels strangely intoxicating. They never had a taste for meat until they put on the crown, but in the heat of battle as bodies were cut to pieces and corpses burned, Lamby couldn’t help but wonder…

Lamby spits out the mouthful of blood, horrified by the thought that just crossed their mind. They need to get out of this place, they need to get away from all this blood and violence. Before they push back up to their feet to continue onward though, they find themself scrutinizing their reflection.

They looked monstrous. Their scarred face was stained with blood and their eyes still had a red shine to it, a side effect due to their reliance on curses to kill from a distance. Their wool was stained and tufts of it were outright missing. While fishing their prize out of the corpse of the slain monster, they noted that some was caught in its teeth. Their golden fleece was torn and soiled.

The beauty they tried to maintain was gone. They no longer looked like a kind, pretty caretaker like their mother who they were trying to imitate. They looked like a rabid beast, and with the adrenaline coursing through them and the tenseness in their muscles, they felt like one too.

They can’t go back to the village looking like this.

Kneeling in the puddle of blood, they try and fix themselves up as best they can, using their reflection to see what needs tending. They run their fingers through the wool on their head to try and get it looking nice and proper again. They try and wring out their fleece and wool of the worst of the blood, though there’s nothing they can do about the stains right now.

They didn’t want to scare anyone when they got home. People were going to worry no matter what, but they desperately wanted to hide this aspect of themself from their flock. They were sick of worshiping monsters, they needed to be better.

The effort isn’t really successful, all they’ve managed to do is smear blood around as they try to make themself look presentable, but the Red Crown works to seal their wounds as they do. In the end, they’re left perturbed by their reflection. Stained with blood that isn’t theirs, trying to pretty themself up despite the battle scars, what do people see in them when they look upon their face? Do they see their savior? Do they pray and worship them only to avoid the wrath they fear their disobedience will call down on them? Looking at their reflection, all they see is a monster pretending to be a saint.

Ratau doesn’t see them that way though.

Maybe that eye of his is getting bad, but Lamby clings to the fact that Ratau still sees the good in them as they rise to their feet and move towards the temple’s treasury. Someone out here still cared about them, someone still loved them despite their terrible flaws. That’s all they could ask for as they suffer out here for everyone’s sake.

They raid the treasury, gathering up the offerings and riches meant for the long dead Leshy. Lamby is both excited for and dreading their reunion with the God of Chaos. They were still young and inexperienced when they did battle, their more violent tendencies hadn’t settled in yet. Even though Leshy was likely more powerful just like his worshipers, Lamby wanted to see how fast they could cut him down with everything they’ve learned.

Lamby shakes their head to try and clear out that thought. They fear what will become of them when they’re forced to battle a god again. The mere memory of Kallamar’s panicked screams sent a pleasant tingle running down their spine; they've only grown more vicious in the time since. They pray they can retain their sanity in the battle to come.

With their spoils stashed away in the crown and with their battle against Leshy growing ever closer, Lamby returns home, desperate for a bath to clean the blood out of their wool. In seconds, they appear at the top of the stairs by the gateway, looking over their village. There were still a couple hours before noon so almost everyone was out and about doing their chores. That all stops once people take notice of them walking down the stairs.

“Lord Lamby!”
“They’ve returned!”
“Welcome home, my lamb!”
“Praise be to… Lamby?”
“Oh my gosh!”
“Lord Lamby, are you alright?!”

As everyone gathers closer to greet them, the bloodstains and wounds become more apparent. Lamby feared that everyone would be scared of the sight, but they all seem more scared for them.

“Welcome home, Lamby.” Cutting through the crowd, Lamby breaks out into a smile as Ratau reaches out and takes their hand. “You look like you had a tough time out there.”

“Yeah.” Lamby nods. Four days of nonstop bloodshed and violence. Lamby feels some pride in knowing that there were a hundred more souls put to rest today, but the crown’s power was limited. Their whole body ached and every movement sent little spikes of pain shooting up and down their body from injuries the crown didn’t have the strength to heal yet.

“I’m sure everyone’s excited to see you back, but why don’t you go to your room and take care of yourself for a while.” Ratau offers. “I’ll take care of things up here until you’re ready.”

“Thank you Ratau.” Lamby sags with relief, desperate to get to their room and shrug off their filthy fleece.

“Also, if you have the strength for it, would you like to come over tonight?” Ratau asks. “I’m inviting a friend over to play with and I’d like you to join us too.”

“That sounds lovely.” Lamby nods. “I’ll see you later tonight then.”

Assuring everyone that they’re alright as they go, they eventually enter the temple and retreat downstairs into their chambers. They fill up a tub of water before using what strength they have left in their crown to briefly light hellfire underneath the tub, quickly heating up the water inside before it fizzles out. Shedding everything off, they settle into the tub, the water inside hot enough to sting but not enough to burn.

The water starts to run red almost immediately.

They spend the next hour cleaning themself up, shearing some of their wool to try and even themselves out after having several tufts ripped off of them, brushing and braiding the wool on their head, stitching up and washing their fleece. By the time they’re all cleaned up and dressed again, all evidence of the days of battle were gone, save for the jagged scars on their cheek. Now free from the sight of blood and the pain from their fights, their mind is clear.

Giving their reflection a big smile, they blush slightly at the beautiful, benevolent caretaker they see in the mirror. They wonder if Mother looked like this when she was young.

They return upstairs and ring the temple bells, summoning everyone inside so they can hold a sermon. They tell their flock of the dangers in the Darkwood and of the many battles they fought within it. They bring up the two rescued sacrifices they found on their short crusade and introduce themself properly to them, welcoming them to their new home. They kind of rush through the process, desperate to wrap things up so they can retire for the night. Even after their long bath, they’re still exhausted from their journey. They had another god tear in hand, they could kill two birds with one stone and make a trade with Phoenix while also getting a nap in.

The sermon comes to a close. Many linger to speak with them, asking for blessings or bringing up concerns about the village. Most of those concerns are of course focused around the cat. Lamby tries their best to address these concerns as quickly as they can, not wanting their thoughts to linger on Narinder for too long. They’ve already had a very stressful day, they didn’t want him to make it even more stressful.

The hours fly by as they work around the village. They find a place for the two that they rescued to stay after touring them around, they rest by the shrine to feed off the devotion gathered within it to restore themself further, and despite not needing to, they stop by the kitchens for dinner when it’s served to enjoy a hot meal as a little treat for themself.

Eventually, the sun starts to set on the horizon. As Lamby is wrapping up a couple more chores and sweeping the roads, they are approached by Ratoo. It was astonishing seeing just how quickly he was improving now that his heart had returned. Though he was currently wearing a robe to hide the hole in his chest, Lamby had already started to notice that his wounds were healing now that he was whole again. Though, as healthy and vibrant as he looked, he approaches them with an annoyed look on his face.

“Ratau is ready to see you now.” He informs them, sounding a bit irritated.

“Is something wrong?” Lamby asks. “You seem stressed. Did Ratau not invite you to play too?”

“The offer’s there, I’d just rather not…” Ratoo grumbles. “I’m sure you understand why.”

Lamby can’t say they do.

“Thank you, Ratoo.” Lamby bows their head in gratitude. “We’ll try not to be long.”

“Your welcome, Lamby.” Ratoo nods, wandering off to patrol around the village as night starts to fall. “Good luck!”

With their excuse to stop pacing around, Lamby quickly hurries across the village, trying their best to avoid their flock so they don’t have to solve any last minute problems before they can play. The house comes into view, and with Ratau’s invitation and Ratoo calling them over, they don’t even bother slowing down to knock first and they let themself right in.

“Good evening, Ratau!” They greet enthusiastically as they walk inside. “You said you were going to be bringing some… one…”

All excitement and enthusiasm shrivels up within them as their eyes lock with Narinder’s who stares back at them from the table in the center of the room.

“Glad you could join us, Lamby!” Their eyes pull away from the cat for only a second to glance up at Ratau, his smile dampening their rage only slightly. “Come and take a seat with us, let’s-”

“No.” Narinder suddenly pushes out of his seat, moving to pass through the door Lamby is standing in front of.

“Hey, wait!” Ratau calls out. “Come on, sit back down, let’s-”

“I don’t want to play with him.” Lamby states flat out, and to their relief, Narinder seems just as desperate to put distance between them as they are. Lamby turns to leave as well, but before either of them can make it out the door, Ratau stands up.

“I guess I’ll just have this all to myself then.” Lamby glances back, frustrated at Ratau for trying to force this when they just want to relax, but their eyes instead fall to the dish Ratau sets down on the table. Their eyes go wide as they settle on an entire cake, covered in thick frosting and strawberries. “I figured I’d need something to bribe you into staying in the same room together. Come back and take a seat and I’ll cut you a slice.”

Lamby immediately takes a couple steps forward, but Narinder scoffs at their side. “You really think food is going to convince me to stay with this traitor? I wouldn’t stay even if I was starving.”

“This isn’t just any food though.” Ratau tries to reason with him. “This cake was freshly baked this morning just for this occasion. I guarantee you, you’ve never had something this sweet in over a thousand years, maybe even your whole life. It’s got Lamby enticed, are you telling me you’re not at least a little bit curious to try this mortal delicacy?”

Lamby is already seated at this point, but they turn to see if Narinder will stay or if they’ll be able to have this cake all to themself. He shakes his head and turns to walk out the door, but he hesitates at the last second. He tries to push himself to leave once, then twice, before reluctantly turning back.

“I hope you both choke on it.” He grumbles as he seats himself at the table.

“Thank you, my lord.” Ratau tells him with a smile, taking a knife to the cake to cut everyone a slice.

“I don’t want to do this today, Ratau.” Lamby whines, still trying to talk their way out of this. Ratau said that he wanted to try and get them together to work something out, but after their long and stressful crusade cleaning up Narinder’s mess, he was the last person they wanted to spend the evening with.

“You’re going to say that every single time I try to do this, Lamby.” Ratau tells them. “You’re never gonna want to do this, but you need to at least try.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Narinder demands. “Do you honestly expect your stupid games to make me like the filth sitting next to me?”

“Oh gods no.” Ratau is quick to shake his head. “But everyone in the village is worried about you and I’m sick of hearing you two complain about each other. We’re going to sit down, enjoy some cake, play some games, and try to tolerate each other like well mannered, responsible adults. Can you both do that for me?”

Lamby turns to glare at Narinder and he turns to glare right back. Just staring at him filled Lamby’s head with terrible intrusive thoughts. They wanted to drag him kicking and screaming out into the Darkwood to show the suffering undead out there who was really responsible for their torture and watch them rip him to pieces. This selfish, petty bastard probably doesn’t feel any remorse at all for what he did and Lamby would feel no remorse watching him get torn apart.

“Lamby?” Lamby pulls their eyes off of Narinder to look towards Ratau. “You think you can play a game or two with him to try and ease up the tension between you? For me?” Ratau scoots a plate with their slice of cake across the table towards them.

“I’ll try…” Lamby sighs, taking the plate and biting into their cake, letting its sweet taste distract them from their desire to bite down on Narinder’s throat.

“This better be worth it.” Narinder grumbles, taking a plate of his own and biting down into the dessert. Despite how much his mere presence upsets them, Lamby can’t help but giggle a little when they see his permanent scowl suddenly vanish. All three of Narinder’s eyes go wide as he savors the single bite he took.

“There’s more where that came from if you play along.” Ratau chuckles. “It doesn’t have to be all bad here, my lord. Now,” Ratau gestures towards the Knucklebones board which was already set up for them, “who wants to go first?”

Narinder reaches out for the dice, tossing one at the board. Rolling a three, he places it in his left column. Lamby can hardly believe they’re doing this, but they reach for the dice next to take their turn. The first game had begun.

“See?” Ratau says, watching as both of them take turns rolling dice. “Isn’t this nice?”

“Not really…” Lamby answers honestly.

“Your offerings are the only reason I’m here, former vessel.” Narinder grumbles at him, equally displeased with this whole scenario as he continues to eat cake between rolls.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even have to offer anything last night. You just wanted to play.” Ratau says, earning a growl out of Narinder which causes Lamby to glare at him. “And Lamby, I know you’re probably tired and frustrated after your long crusade, but thank you for sticking around. Trust me, this will work out.”

“I hope so.” Lamby sighs.

“I doubt it.” Narinder scoffs, making Lamby glare up at him again. “What?!” He demands. “We both know there’s no forgiving what you did, lamb. I want nothing more than to grab you by the horns and rip your head from your shoulders to take back what you stole from me. I despise every aspect of your being and I want you dead.”

“The feeling’s mutual…” Lamby says, locking eyes with him.

“Well uh, hey!” Ratau speaks up. “At least you both have that in common!” Both Lamby and Narinder turn to look at him. He was really trying to make this work, but he was being hopelessly optimistic if he thinks things are going to change after this. “Uh, my lord, do you have any hobbies you busy yourself with?”

“No.” Narinder says, continuing to play while pointedly ignoring Ratau.

“Come on, you have to be up to something in that cabin of yours.” Ratau insists. “Maybe you’re continuing your writing in your grimoire? Trying to draw up another ritual circle maybe?” Narinder glares at him for mentioning that. Lamby is more than concerned to hear that Narinder is apparently trying to perform rituals in his own home, but if Ratau didn’t mention it until now, maybe it isn’t anything to worry about. Though, with how poorly thought out this whole idea was, maybe he doesn’t realize how dangerous such a thing could be.

Another die falls and Lamby places it on the board, filling their side completely. Quickly totaling up the points, they break out in a wicked grin. “I win.” They say smugly, reveling in the only destruction of the old lord that they’re allowed.

Narinder looks absolutely livid as he takes the board and overturns it, spilling the dice all over the table. “Again!” He demands. “Cheating, conniving little shit!”

“You did surprisingly well, my lord!” Ratau tries to calm him down. “Lamby’s much better than I am, but you were only-”

“Shut up!” Narinder barks before glancing down at his empty plate. “I’ve started another game, where is my offering?”

“One moment.” Ratau tells him with a smile, cutting Narinder another slice.

“Why do you put up with this Ratau?” Lamby asks. “You don’t deserve to be talked to like that.” Narinder also doesn’t deserve to be shown such kindness, but maybe that’s just them. Ratau was kind to everyone, even the undeserving. That’s why Lamby respects him so much.

“I spent years living with and playing against Shrumy.” Ratau chuckles. “I’ve dealt with worse. Sure, Narinder is abrasive an-”

“I told you not to call me that.” Narinder interrupts, glaring at Ratau as he passes him his second helping of cake. “You will refer to me as lord, nothing else.”

“Right, my bad my lord.” Ratau chuckles, giving Narinder his plate despite how rude he just was. Lamby wanted to take that cake away from Narinder until he apologized, but they’re distracted as Ratau gives them their second helping too. “My lord, if you don’t have anything to occupy your time with, maybe we can help you find a hobby? You’ve got a favorite spot by the river, maybe I could help teach you how to fish?”

“The only thing you could do to give me joy is keel over.” Narinder tells him as he takes his next turn. Once again, Lamby is overcome with the urge to strike him for saying something so horrible, but to Lamby’s surprise, Ratau actually chuckles.

“I remember a time where I heard you actually laugh once.” Ratau says with a weary smile. “You were laughing so hard Baal thought you were dying.”

“I don’t recall this.” Narinder says. “When did this happen?” Narinder was a miserable, terrible man. The only joy Lamby ever saw in him was when they slaughtered his siblings. His laughter was harsh and poisonous to hear. Lamby used to constantly push themself to please their lord, but the thought of any of their actions putting a smile on Narinder’s face made them feel gross.

“It was the first night after I was crowned.” Ratau tells him, looking a little upset as he recalls the memory. “It was… probably the most harrowing moment of my entire life. I came upon a massive rhino who was easily four times bigger than I was and I knew that my dagger wasn’t going to help. When he tried to hurt my friends, I unintentionally called upon the crown’s power and cast a curse on him. I was so terrified of what I had done that I actually gave myself a heart attack.”

A snort escapes from Narinder.

Lamby snaps their head to look at him as he covers his mouth to try and repress his laughter, but he can’t. His body shakes as laughter escapes from his cupped hand. That wasn’t the harsh laughter they were familiar with. Narinder was actually laughing with mirth and joy. The fact that he’s doing it in response to something so horrifying sends a chill down their spine, but Ratau chuckles a little at it too.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He says. “I mean, I get it, the vessel of death scared himself so bad that he died, but you were howling with laughter when I came back to you.”

“Becau-” Narinder moves his hand away from his mouth for one second to respond, only to burst with an unrepressed bark of laughter. Lamby was still mad to hear him essentially laugh in Ratau’s face, but they’re genuinely caught off guard by how pleasant this laughter sounds compared to how he usually laughed. He was actually fighting to keep himself from smiling too much. “I spent over a millenia in captivity.” Narinder manages to get out, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. “You were the first bit of entertainment I had in a thousand years.”

“Well, now that we know that it is possible to get you smiling, is there any other way we can do that without us dying horribly?” Ratau asks.

“I can’t say…” Narinder says, trying his hardest to appear his usual apathetic self, but he’s still smiling. “I am the God of Death. All of my most pleasant memories were of-”

“Were the God of Death.” Lamby corrects, breaking into a smile themself as they watch Narinder’s vanish in an instant. Lamby has a little chuckle to themself. Maybe Ratau was right, this is kinda fun.

“My former vessel’s deaths were not my favorite though.” Narinder says, glaring at Lamby. “You were very entertaining in your years of service, and after what you’ve done to me, your most tortuous moments are even sweeter to me now.” He takes a bite of cake to accentuate this point as if their deaths were sweeter than any dessert. “It’s hard to pick a favorite, but one that jumps to mind is when my sister’s forces, starved and ravenous, managed to swarm you and tear you apart with their bare hands.” He chortles. “One of them even choked to death as they feasted on your entrails. Good times.”

Lamby just glares back at Narinder, but glancing over at Ratau, they find that he’s absolutely horrified by what he just heard. Clearing their throat, Lamby tries to cheer him up a bit.

“Ratau, are you going to be playing tonight?” They ask him, rolling their die and placing it on the board. Only a couple moves left before they beat Narinder again. “You invited us over, you should play too.”

“Oh, I’m fine just being a spectator.” Ratau assures them. “You two are… interesting to watch.”

“Explain yourself.” Narinder demands, setting his die on the board. Lamby picks up their last remaining die to roll, but seeing the state of the board and counting up the points, Narinder growls and empties the board before Lamby can roll. They were gonna win again. “In what way are we interesting.”

“Don’t mind me.” Ratau pleads. “Just watching two lords bicker and sneer at each other. Also, good on you two. You’ve been getting along about as well as you two probably can. I didn’t even have to bribe you into starting your third game.”

“I still expect more tithes for continuing this asinine experiment of yours.” Narinder demands and Ratau obliges, cutting another slice of cake. Lamby takes a moment to think about it and while this experience is by no stretch of the imagination pleasant, this is the longest they’ve spent in his presence since they first brought Narinder back to the village. There was still that undeniable urge in the back of their mind to punish him for everything he’s done, but right now they were content to destroy him in Knucklebones and remind him that he’s no longer the all powerful lord he still claims to be.

They were both basically belittling and threatening each other while Ratau tried to keep things as civil as they could possibly be in this scenario. This was not exactly fun… but Lamby finds themself engaged anyways. As a cult leader, there weren’t that many people who spoke against them or were hostile in any way to them unless they were straight up trying to kill them. Ratau hung out with rude, loud, mean people but still considered them close friends. Is this what that’s like?

The next few minutes go on mostly in silence save for the occasional curse from Narinder as he loses dice on the board. He was trying his best, desperate not to lose a third time. To Lamby’s dismay, they’re quickly losing their lead.

”You are a god.”

”The dice will obey your command.”

The crown whispers to them, filling their mind with images of them using their powers to alter the dice’s roll. They discard the thought. They didn’t even think the crown had any vested interest in the board game against its former host, but evidently it didn’t want them to lose. Lamby wouldn’t cheat though. They’re better than that. A benevolent lord does not cheat.

Unfortunately, their honesty costs them the game as Narinder fills his board and eeks out with a seven point lead.

He does not win gracefully.

“HA!” He barks out in victory, rising from his chair to tower over his lowers. “Where you belong, beneath my heel! How does it feel to know that even with all the power you stole you cannot best me?!”

Lamby stares up at him, deadpan. “I beat you twice before this.” They remind him. “I’m still in the lead.”

Narinder’s breath hitches in his chest, but he seems desperate to keep going. “Then you will challenge me again, vile lamb! I will destroy you over and over, taking your lead just as you took everything from me!”

“My lord?” Ratau speaks up, earning Narinder’s attention. “It’s just a game, my lord. Nothing wrong with being a bit competitive, but you might be taking it a bit too far.”

“Silence!” Narinder shouts. “I will deprive all joy this traitor gets out of this game by ensuring they’ll never win again!”

“You got lucky.” Lamby snorts. “You won once and this is how you-”

“Shut up, traitor!” Narinder lunges over the table and grabs the scruff of Lamby’s fleece, yanking them upward onto their feet.. “I will not rest until I make your eternity a living hell, just as you did to…”

Lamby saw red. It took every ounce of willpower in their body to not reach up and break Narinder’s wrist for daring to lay his hands on them. He seems to realize the grave mistake as he lets go of their fleece, taking a couple steps back from the table as Lamby continues to stare him down.

“Well, um…” Ratau clears his throat. “It’s getting pretty late for me. Maybe you two should head back home for the night. You’ll be able to settle your score the next time we gather up for games. You’ll join us again, won’t you my lord?” Narinder only shoots Ratau a quick glance so he can keep his eyes on Lamby, but after a few seconds, he gives him a slow nod. “That’s wonderful to hear! Glad to see you took to game night so quickly. Don’t forget the rest of your cake on the way out.”

Narinder inches towards the table slowly to grab what remains of his cake before quickly shuffling towards the door, never taking his eyes off Lamby as they hold each other’s glares. Once the door is open, he makes his escape, slipping out into the darkness of the late evening.

Lamby takes a deep, grounding breath once he’s out of their sight, sighing as the built up tension inside of them slowly fades. They sit themself back down in their seat, enjoying their cake now that Narinder isn’t here to spoil their appetite.

“I think that went well!” Ratau says. “Right up until the end there, at least.” Lamby gives him an unsure hum. “Come on, did you not have fun? You both were smiling at least a couple of times, this evening wasn’t a complete failure.”

“I think you’re right.” Lamby nods. “This was weird, but… I don’t know.”

“I for one think it’s nice that I’m on speaking terms with the man who saved my life so many decades ago. He’s a real bastard, but it feels good to talk to an old friend. I’m not exactly sure he sees me as a friend, but I’m probably the closest thing he has to one.”

“Hmm…” Lamby hums to themself. Narinder used to be their friend too. A savior they could trust and rely on. They were not as kind or quick to forgive as Ratau was despite their efforts to emulate him, but a part of why they spared Narinder in the first place was their desire to see the kind savior they once saw him as. Him being a sore loser who can be bribed into socializing with sweet treats was… It wasn’t the image of the benevolent lord they once saw, but it wasn’t the bloodthirsty, terrible god that he became.

He was a man. A horribly flawed, selfish, petty, sadistic monster of a man, but a man nonetheless. That doesn’t excuse his crimes or what he’s done to them and their flock, but there were flawed men who lived in this village, people who they’ve helped change for the better.

”Make him atone for his sins.”

Oh they would. They needed to grow stronger and they did not want to hurt anyone in order to do that. The crown can feed off of sin though, and Lamby themself was more than willing to purge themself of impurities and atone for the crimes they committed. Narinder needed to change. As the benevolent lord of this congregation, it was their duty to help people find salvation.

The next time he lays a finger on them, they will force him to confront the lifetime of sin he’s committed.

“Lamby?” Lamby is jolted back to when Ratau leans forward in his chair to look at them. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just thinking.” Lamby nods.

“Do you think you can handle another game night with Narinder?” He asks next.

“I think I can.” Lamby nods with a smile. “Maybe next time we can try poker, get you in on it. All I ask is that you save it for later, much later. This was kind of exhausting and I’m already beat from the crusades.”

“Fair enough.” Ratau chuckles. “You both had my heart racing a couple of times there, I could use a break too before we try this again. Also… Thank you for trusting me on this, Lamby. I know that he’s done terrible things and you don’t want anything to do with him, but I hate to see you so angry and miserable while also keeping him here. I want things to work out, for both your sakes.”

“Well thank you, Ratau.” Lamby tells him, leaning over in their seat to reach for his hand. “Someone around here has to have a good head on their shoulders. Thank you for looking out for me.”

“You’re doing fine on your own, kiddo.” Ratau assures them. “You’re a nice, forgiving kid. You just need a little help breaking through Narinder’s tough exterior. Maybe I oughta get Shrumy over here to help you build up a tolerance for loudmouthed assholes so you can better tolerate him.”

“I haven’t seen him much, but Shrumy isn’t nearly as bad.” Lamby says. “Anyways, I have work to do. I have to commune with the old god again, I’d like to get some proper rest before I have to meet them.”

“Ooh, I’ll let you get to it then.” Ratau shudders slightly. “I’m sure it likes you more than me, but I still get the jitters just thinking about that thing. Good luck, Lamby, and good night.”

“Good night, Ratau.” Lamby says, rising from their seat and giving him a slight bow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stepping out into the chill evening air, Lamby takes a deep breath before walking towards the temple. Game nights are going to be interesting from this point on, but Lamby can’t find it in them to be upset about it. Having Ratau around as a mediator has given Lamby the chance to see a new side of Narinder. Maybe something can work out.

”Make him atone!”

Lamby chuckles. The crown did not need to worry. It would be fed. If Narinder is to change for the better, his crimes must be addressed first.

Lamby embraced their violent tendencies and bloodlust while on their crusades because they knew they were helping people find rest. They’re ecstatic to learn that they finally have a valid excuse to make Narinder suffer. It’s for his own good.

They doubt Ratau will approve, but the crown must be fed. Sacrifices need to be made, but no one will have to die if they do this. It’s the least Narinder can do to give back to the thousands he’s damned.

They just need a little privacy.

Chapter Text

“I think I should check back in at my old cabin.” Ratau tells Lamby one afternoon after a sermon. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen the place and I’m worried that if any of my friends are there they’ll think something’s happened to me.”

“You want to leave the flock?” Lamby asks, standing up a little straighter.

“Not for long.” Ratau assures. “A week at most. I know you rely on me to keep things orderly here while you’re away, but it would give me some peace of mind if I could leave a letter for my friends if they aren’t already there waiting for me.”

This was their chance!

“That’s more than alright!” Lamby nods, giving Ratau a wide smile. “Though, are you going to need me to come with you? I can send you there in an instant, but if I come with you then no one will be watching over the place. If I send you alone though…”

“I wouldn’t mind walking, but you can just come by to pick me up whenever you need me.” Ratau reasons. “These folks can take care of themselves for an hour while you step out to come fetch me and bring me home. Just pop in once in a while and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

“Do you need to pack anything?” Lamby asks. As eager as they are to send him on his way to free themself up for what they had planned, they want to make sure Ratau has everything he needs to have a comfortable trip.

“Some snacks if the garden isn’t doing too well.” Ratau says after a moment's thought. “Maybe some extras if my friends are there.”

Lamby is more than happy to help him pack and get ready. Taking him to the kitchens, Lamby makes sure he has plenty of food to keep him well fed during his trip. They even ask the baker to make some sweets to give to Ratau’s old gambling buddies if they’re there. Maybe they can all come and visit once Lamby’s finished up here. A game night with all of Ratau’s friends would be fun.

Helping him up the stairs, Lamby sets Ratau on the transportation stone and gives him another check over to make sure he has everything he needs.

“You won’t get into any trouble while I’m gone, will you?” Ratau asks as he braces himself for the teleport.

“You said so yourself, I can handle myself just fine.” Lamby assures him. “Everyone will be in one piece here when you return, don’t worry. Are you ready?”

“I think so.” Ratau nods. “Take care, Lamby. Make sure to visit.”

Giving each other a wave, Lamby calls upon the crown’s power and channels it through the transportation stone, sending Ratau away to the old cabin they still remember well. In a flash of red, Ratau vanishes, leaving Lamby alone at the top of the stairs. Almost immediately, they started to miss him. They could simply pop in whenever they wished and they were tempted to follow right after him to make sure he made it there, but they’re positive that he’s safe and sound at his cabin now.

Besides, they have work to do now.

It’s feeding time.

They march through the village, greeting everyone as they go and passing blessings to those who bow their heads to them. Things have been going well here and everyone’s settled back into a healthy work life balance. It’s almost time for the big harvest and everyone’s working in shifts to ensure the plots are weeded and watered. Their most recent rescues have also fully settled in now and are already making friends with their neighbors.

There’s of course one member of the flock they’ve both been told to avoid by everyone else. Despite Ratau’s efforts, Narinder still hides away in his shoddy little hut, locking everything else away. He refused to mingle with everyone else and that was probably for the best. Even so, others were starting to question what the point of keeping him here was if all he did was hide in the cabin and eat their food.

He was finally going to be put to use.

Stopping at his front door, Lamby gives it three hard knocks before waiting for a response. They’ve been told by a few other members of the flock that he typically didn’t answer the door. In fact, Yahroi says that bothering him at all usually leads to him threatening to kill whoever knocks. Ratau seemed to be the only exception though as he manages to get him out of the house with little issue.

The three knocks they give the door seem to be enough to earn Narinder’s attention. The door is pulled open slightly and Narinder peeks out to see who’s there. The moment his eyes meet Lamby's, his face scrunches up in disgust and he tries to slam the door shut. Lamby manages to wedge a hoof into the doorframe, keeping the door from closing.

“Get out of here!” Narinder bellows at them. “Leave this place, now!”

“Not until you do something for me first.” Lamby says, trying to push the door back open. “I can’t keep cleaning up your mess unless I-”

A fist comes flying out through the door and crashes into Lamby’s face. Typically a blow like this wouldn’t bother them much at all on their crusades, but they had no need to keep their guard up here in the safety of the village. They stumble back, hands flying to their face as a dull pain explodes inside their skull. Coming back to their senses, the door is locked tight.

He was going to pay for that.

Calling upon the crown’s power, they force themself inside, opening a small portal beneath them to transport them into the house. They appear in the dark, musty home and turn to find Narinder pulling aside the curtains of his window to see if they’re still outside. He was shaking as he peeked out the window. He knows just how badly he messed up.

Lamby’s hands shake too with barely restrained rage as they reach out and grab hold of the back of Narinder’s robes.

He lets out a terrified shriek as Lamby drags him through another portal, pulling them both down into Lamby’s chambers beneath the temple. No one would hear his screams down here. He manages to free himself from Lamby’s grip after they’re dropped off in their room, scrambling backwards and readying his claws and teeth to fight back. Lamby remains still, their hands held behind their back as they force a smile.

“I didn’t get to finish, so I’ll let your outburst slide for now.” They tell him calmly, though they can feel a bruise forming on their unscarred cheek. “I promise you, if you do something like that again, I will not be so kind, especially now that Ratau isn’t here to get between us.”

At the mention of Ratau’s absence, Narinder’s eyes go even wider. Perhaps this experience will make him act kinder to the old man once he realizes just how bad things can get without him.

“What do you plan to do with me, you devil?!” Narinder demands, claws and teeth still barred. “Have you finally grown tired of me? Are you so fearful of your own following that you won’t even kill me in the open?”

“I’m not going to kill you, Narinder.” Lamby assures him, though Narinder doesn’t relax at all. “I’m simply doing what you taught me to do throughout my years of service. I am feeding the Red Crown so that we can grow strong and continue on our crusades unimpeded. Of course you wanted me to sacrifice my devout following, and while that would certainly be faster, I found some alternative food sources to sate the Red Crown after what you did to me. Unless you’d rather let the crown eat you, you’re going to cooperate with me.”

Narinder doesn’t really have a choice, but he lowers his guard slightly. Lamby was not going to kill him, but he has no idea what he’s in for.

“What do you intend to feed my crown?” Narinder demands, still on edge. “It feeds on devotion, nothing more. No matter what you try, I will never bow my head to you, traitor!”

Lamby glances up at the crown on their head before taking it into their hands. “Maybe that’s all you’ve ever fed it, but it showed me another way. Maybe it was out of my desperation or self hatred, but the crown was able to draw something out of me to feed on.” The crown lifts up and Lamby reaches inside of it, drawing out a multi threaded whip. “I atoned for my sins and allowed the crown to feed off of it. After everything you’ve done, I’m sure you’ve got enough to fatten the crown up for days.”

“So you intend to torture me?” Narinder scoffs. “I see through your lies, lamb. There’s no need to try and excuse your actions. You said so yourself, there’s no one here to answer to. You’re just a sadistic monster who-”

Lamby lashes out with all their strength midway through Narinder’s speech, the whip in their hand whistling through the air before it cracks. Only a couple of the knotted tips manage to reach Narinder due to the distance between him and Lamby, but those two tips sting as they crack against Narinder’s nose. He brings his hand up to cover his face, flinching away in pain.

“And you’re to blame for that.” Lamby says, their hand shaking uncontrollably as they tighten their grip around the whip. “I want to see you suffer, but I’m no liar, not like you. I’ve used this whip plenty of times, but never against another. I drew my sin out lash by painful lash, atoning for the countless crimes you made me commit in your name. Perhaps I’ll do so again when I’m done with you to punish myself for indulging in this. Either way, the Red Crown is hungry and I cannot continue my crusades without its strength.”

Lamby approaches Narinder, running their fingers between the threads of the whip. Narinder backs away, fear and rage bleeding together in his eyes as he continues to cover his face.

“Repent, Narinder.” Lamby demands. “Spare yourself from the pain of the lashes by spilling your guts to me. Confess the countless sins you’ve committed in your uncountable years of life. Repent, or I will feed the crown myself after succumbing to the sinful desires you planted into my head. It’s your choice, Narinder. You already know which choice I want you to make.”

Lamby braces their whip, waiting for Narinder to respond. Their heart races in their chest. The crown offers whispers of encouragement, knowing that no matter what happens down here, it will get what it wants. Lamby will get what they want too.

“I have nothing to repent for!” Narinder snarls. “The crimes you think I’ve committed are moral failings you mortals invented. I existed long before sin was a concept in your feeble minds! I will-”

Lamby breaks out into a wide grin and lashes out. Narinder made the choice they were hoping for.

Narinder braces himself, lifting his arms to cover his face, but that leaves his chest exposed. Nine knotted threads crack against his chest, tearing into his robes and the skin underneath. He cries out in pain, one of the arms around his head falling to cover his chest. Lamby wants to continue, but they give Narinder another chance.

“We both know that evil exists in this world, Narinder.” Lamby tells him. “The entire faith you and I built up was built upon the belief that the Old Faith was corrupt, that your siblings were monsters blinded by jealousy and hatred. All of them begged for forgiveness in their final moments. I will hear you beg too unless you repent!”

“Do you expect me to apologize?!” Narinder shouts. “You should be apologizing to ME for what you-”

Lamby brings the whip down again, all nine threads crashing hard against Narinder’s shoulder before their knotted tips snap against his back. Narinder cries out, falling to his knees as his hands instinctively reach around his back to try and cover as much space as possible. Lamby can see tears stinging at the corner of his eyes and Lamby feels a mix of pleasure and disgust well up within them. It was beyond cathartic to finally lay into this bastard, but they knew this was wrong. Indulging in this needless violence would only make things worse for them, but they needed more power. This would either continue until Narinder finally broke and confessed or until they could no longer stomach it and they turn the whip on themself to atone for their actions.

The lashings continue until Narinder is lying curled up on the floor, desperately trying to cover himself as the knotted whip bites into his skin over and over again. Red starts to soak into the floor and in between each lash, Lamby gives Narinder a chance to make it stop.

The first few lashings only make him bellow out threats and excuses, as well as claims that he has done nothing wrong and that everyone he hurt deserved it. Eventually that devolved into him demanding them to stop. That quickly turned to begging, and as pleasant of a sound as it was, it’s not what Lamby wanted to hear. Now he was quiet, crying out with every lash before biting down on his tongue to hold back tears. Lamby was nearing their limit. They could feel something broiling away inside their chest and the crown was eager to draw it out. Lamby raises the whip one more time, eager to crack its threads against his already split open back, when Narinder suddenly cries out.

“I should have listened!” He blurts, his voice cracking through the pain. Lamby stops themself from bringing the whip down. Seeing that his words are putting a stop to the pain, Narinder continues. “I should have listened to them when they told me to stop. I…”

Narinder curls up tighter on the floor, wrapping his arms around his gut. Tears now stream freely from his closed eyes. Lamby squats down, waiting for Narinder to continue.

“Shamura begged me to stop.” Narinder heaves. “They pleaded with me to change my ways, to stop what I was doing but I… I pushed them away. Even after what that bastard did to me, they still… If I just…” He coughs, his breathing becomes labored. This wasn’t him saying what he thought Lamby wanted to hear. This was genuine remorse. Lamby was almost convinced that he truly was a heartless bastard, but even the former God of Death had regrets.

“Keep going.” Lamby says, taking the crown off their head in preparation. “Let it out.”

Narinder opens his eyes to glare up at them. “Vile, putrid, insuf… I’m not… I… oh…” His eyes start to lose focus and he curls up even tighter around himself. He groans in agony and rolls around on the bloody floor. Something was eating him up inside.

“Hold still.” Lamby instructs, carefully inching themself forward while holding the Red Crown out to him.

”Finally!”

Narinder looks up at the Red Crown being held in front of his face. Under better circumstances, he might have reached for it to try and steal it away, but he’s hurting too bad to even try. Unfortunately for him, the worst part of this process was just about to start.

The Red Crown’s dissolves in Lamby’s hands, its hard glossy exterior becoming slick and slimy. Before either Lamby or Narinder can get a good look at what’s happening to it, the crown suddenly lunges for Narinder. He opens his mouth to scream, and the crown forces its way down his throat.

Narinder clutches at his neck as Lamby gets back to their feet and quickly backs away. Narinder squirms around on the floor in agony as the crown tears its way through him, searching for its prey. He looks like he wants to scream, but he doesn’t dare open his mouth. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries though, Lamby knows from experience that it was impossible to keep everything inside once the crown was ready to come back out.

After a few seconds of resistance, Narinder finally breaks and opens his mouth, unleashing an obscene amount of vomit and blood onto the floor beneath him. Each labored breath he takes in only makes him retch again, making even more of a mess as something tries to force its way out. Eventually, with one more strained heave, the crown and its prey push itself free from his mouth, landing with a wet splat on the puddle of sick on the floor.

The Red Crown squirms around on the floor in the form of a serpent. It coils around another squirming thing, desperate to escape the crown’s clutches as it’s suffocated in its grasp. The squirming stops, the Red Crown unfurls from its prey, and devours it whole before returning to its original shape.

”Delicious!”

“Egh… guh…” Narinder gasps for breath, hands in his vomit as he tries to keep himself from collapsing on top of the puddle. He struggles to keep himself up, his arms trembling as nausea and pain continue to ravage his body. Lamby steps forward, carefully leaning to avoid the mess as they pinch their fingers over one of the crown’s barbs to lift it out of the puddle. Keeping it at arm's length, Lamby takes it to a nearby bucket of water which they prepared earlier to clean it off. It just went through Narinder and whatever he ate today, they’re not putting it back on their head until it’s clean.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Lamby asks over their shoulder as they take a brush to their crown, scrubbing it hard.

“Gonna… kill you…” Narinder huffs, still on the verge of collapse but having just enough energy to turn and stare Lamby down with murderous intent. “I’ll… tear you apart, you… you fu…”

“It looks like there is something you feel remorse for.” Lamby hums as they continue to scrub the crown clean. “Were you talking about Shamura? Did you finally come to terms with the fact that what they did to you wasn’t an act of hate but of self preservation? To protect themself from you?”

Narinder doesn’t immediately respond. Glancing back, they find tears streaming down his face. There was an actual heart in his chest. He’s capable of feeling remorse for his actions, and now that Lamby’s drawn it out of him, he can’t hide it anymore.

“That was all I needed from you.” Lamby says, taking the crown out of the water. It shakes itself off before returning to their head, dampening their wool a little bit. “As much as I enjoyed forcing a confession out of you, I trust that the next time the crown must feed, you’ll be more cooperative.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Narinder growls, carefully turning himself around to try and push himself up. “I’ll rip your still beating heart out of your chest, you devil!”

“As much as I’d like to see you try, I have work to do.” Lamby says, taking their crown off and reaching inside of it. They slowly start digging things out as Narinder builds up his strength to stand up. A fresh change of clothes, a roll of bandages, some light snacks. They bundle everything up in a fresh clean sheet before setting it on the floor and summoning a portal beneath it to send it away. “You’ll have everything you need to clean and patch yourself up waiting at home. While I still have you here, do you have anything else you’d like to get off your chest? It’ll be easier to let it out now than to drag this process out.”

“I will drown you in the mess you made!” Narinder threatens, struggling to his feet and stumbling forward. “I’ll skin you alive and salt the wounds you vile la-”

Lamby creates a portal beneath Narinder, sending him home as it’s clear that he isn’t in a cooperative mood. They’re left in the quiet of their room now, looking over the bloody mess they’ve made out of their room. Their hands tremble and nausea boils away in their guts.

”Let me in.”

”I want more!”

Lamby shakes their head. What they’ve done down here was wrong and they must atone for it, but not now. They needed to keep an eye on their flock. Their responsibility to their following was paramount. It was the only reason why any of what they just did was even remotely acceptable. It’s thanks to this necessary evil that they don’t have to take innocent lives to keep fighting, but there’s still a sense of guilt eating them up knowing that they had to do this behind Ratau’s back.

They would repent, but not now, not until night falls and they’re sure no one will need their help.

They take a few moments to clean up the worst of the mess in their room, mopping up the vomit and blood before checking themself over to make sure they don’t have anything splattered on them. Once they’re content, they make their way up the stairs, balling up their fists to try and fight back against the lingering trembling feeling in their hands. By the time they step back out into the light, they show no sign of what they’ve done. They greet their followers, assist with the work around the village, water the flowers. Their guts refuse to settle, guilt slowly eating away at them as the crown continues to urge them to let it fix the problem, but they put the flock first.

Thank goodness they did, as not even half an hour after they leave the temple, someone wanders into the village. Someone that Lamby did not expect to see.

“The hell happened to this place?!” As Lamby walks the streets, making sure everything is swept up and pretty, they overhear a commotion somewhere by the main shrine. They thought the voice sounded familiar, but it couldn’t have been who they thought it was. Yet, when they wander over to investigate what’s going on, they find Shrumy standing in front of their shrine, bad mouthing it. “Where’s the cat? Ain’t it a little insulting to worship the dumb kid he gave his crown to?”

“Well uh…” The tortoise had already gathered a crowd. Richard was trying to speak with him, but hearing what would be considered blasphemy by any other god gets him to choke up a little. “Lord Lamby isn’t… The One Who, uh… Oh! Lord Lamby!” Relief flashes in Richard’s eyes as Lamby steps forward to investigate. “We have received a strange visitor. He seems to be familiar with your teachings, though he seems a bit out of date.”

“The hell’s that mean?!” Shrumy turns to glare at Richard. “You callin’ me old?!”

“N-no, I was just-”

“Eh, whatever, shut it.” Shrumy grumbles, turning to look at Lamby. “How’re ya doin’ kid?”

“I’m doing just fine, Shrumy.” Lamby says, bowing their head in greeting. “It’s been a while since we last met. Is this the first time you’re seeing the new village?”

“Haven’t seen this place in decades.” Shrumy nods, giving the place another look over. “Honestly, it ain’t my thing. Ratau’s was more humble and homely. This whole place is trying way too hard. Also, you look like a pompous asshole who likes the smell of their own farts building a giant golden monument to yourself in the center of town.”

“Everyone else likes it.” Lamby argues a little defensively, though there’s something more pressing to talk about right now. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came here looking for Ratau.” Shrumy says, his tone taking a sudden shift. “It’s very urgent. Honestly, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to get him back in time.”

“Ratau isn’t here.” Lamby tells him, their heart rate picking up from the sudden urgency in Shrumy’s words. “He actually left for his old cabin to check on the place and see if anyone was waiting for him there.”

“Shit!” Shrumy curses. “Did I miss him on the way?! When did he head out? Maybe he’ll make it in time after all!”

“Hold on, wait.” Lamby interrupts him. “What’s going on? Is there an emergency at his cabin?! Will Ratau be ok?!”

“Well hell, if he ain’t here, I gotta get back.” Shrumy shakes his head, turning to let himself out. “Nice seeing you, maybe I’ll circle back around eventually, but I need to get to the cabin to see Flinky. Farewell.”

Shrumy starts to wander off and Lamby’s left with a dozen questions. Whatever this was, it was serious if Shrumy was in this much of a hurry to get back. Fearing that they might have sent Ratau into some kind of danger, they’re about to follow after Shrumy, but the rumbling in their guts reminds them of their actions today. They can’t leave the cult for long, especially after what they did to Narinder. They need to make sure he doesn’t try anything after the stunt they pulled.

Glancing around the shrine, they find someone standing before it who has already been eager to help. “Hey, Yahroi!”

The tabby perks up, her tail swishing around as she hurries over to Lamby. “Yes my lord?”

“I need to ask a very important favor from you.” Lamby says. “You’re pretty strong right?”

“Very!” Yahroi smirks, flexing a little bit to accentuate her point. “Does something need hauling?”

“I want you to keep an eye on Narinder.” Lamby tells her and her smile fades just a little. “Ratau is out and I need to step out too. I don’t think anything bad will happen, but if you can grant me peace of mind by keeping him in check and making sure he doesn’t do anything weird, I will make it worth your while.”

“Wow…” Yahroi gasps. “This feels like a big responsibility, but I won’t let you down!” Yahroi promises, bowing her head. “I will help keep order while you’re away.”

“Thank you.” Lamby sighs with relief. “On the off chance things do get bad, find Ratoo. He can offer you any extra muscle you might need.”

“I got all the muscle I need right here.” Yahroi boasts. “Do not worry, my lord. I’ll take care of him, but I’ll take care of myself too if the need arises. Everyone’s in good hands.”

“Thank you.” Lamby says again, bowing to Yahroi and offering her their blessing before turning around and searching for Shrumy. Despite his urgency, his slow pace hasn’t gotten him very far and Lamby is able to catch up with him. “I know a shortcut, follow me.”

“Huh? Shortcut?” Shrumy startles as Lamby takes his hand and starts running him towards the stairs leading up to the gateways. It’s a little slow going to get someone so old and heavy up all the stairs, but once they’re at the top, Lamby quickly starts walking him to the transportation stones. “Oh no, not this again!”

“You want to get to the cabin quickly, right?” Lamby asks. “Ratau’s already there. We can be there in only a few seconds. Just hold on tight.”

Stepping down on the transportation stone, Lamby takes themself and Shrumy away from the village and deep into the furthest corners of the Darkwood where Ratau’s cabin lay. While Lamby lands gracefully on their feet, Shrumy flails and stumbles during the teleport, leading him to fall on his back when he’s suddenly dropped off in the woods.

“God damn it!” He shouts, rolling around to try and get himself back to his feet. “I thought I was through with this shit years ago! Don’t ever do that to me again!”

“You wanted to get here fast, here we are.” Lamby tells him, reaching down and taking his hand to help him get up. “We can take the next trip a little slower so you don’t trip up.”

“I don’t ever want to take another trip like that ever.” Shrumy says, shaking himself off. “I hope he’s still alright in there.” Turning to look at the cabin, Shrumy quickly hurries towards it, sparing no further words to Lamby. Curious to see what’s going on and if Ratau is alright, Lamby follows quickly behind him as he makes his way to the door. He lets himself inside without knocking, leaving the door open for Lamby to come in too. They slip through the door and kick it closed behind them before straining their eyes to get a better look at what’s going on in the dim candle light indoors.

Everyone is gathered around the bed in the corner of the cabin. Lamby recognizes the tall figure of Klunko and the worm Bop on top of his head, as well as the much shorter, robed form of Ratau. They both look surprised to see Shrumy here and happy to see Lamby, but their attention is quickly turned back to the bed. Lamby takes a couple steps closer to find out why.

Tucked beneath several blankets is Flinky. He does not look well.

His face is drained of color, red splotches cling to his lips and stain the sheets beneath him as he takes slow, wheezing breaths. He’s terribly sick. Just the mere sight of him seems to stir something in the crown as it whispers to Lamby as they inch closer.

”He has a day at most.”

”Nothing can help him now.”

“He still holdin’ up?” Shrumy asks, his knees creaking as he kneels down beside the bed. At the sound of his voice, Flinky slowly turns his head to open his eyes and look at him.

“Sssshrumy…” He croaks, breaking into a weak smile. “You’re all here…”

“Took a hell of a tumble getting back, but I’ll be damned if I’m not here for you for this.” Shrumy tells him, giving Flinky none of the sass he usually gave people. “You aren’t looking much better…”

“I tried my best to keep him comfortable while you were out to get Ratau.” Klunko explains quietly, keeping his voice down to not disturb Flinky. “He just kinda showed up on his own though. I thought you’d take a few more days at least to get back.”

“Ratau and I know shortcuts.” Lamby says, kneeling down beside Ratau who gives him a soft smile, though Lamby is taken aback to see tears running down his cheeks. “Are you alright Ratau?”

“I’m fine.” He nods, his voice barely coming out through the tightness in his throat. “I’m just… I’m glad I left when I did. I just wish I came over sooner knowing that these are going to be my last moments with him.”

“Hey, come on now!” Klunko tries to argue. “He can still get better! I’ve bounced back from worse, he can-”

“Klunko…” Shrumy turns to him. “I’m sorry, but he ain’t making it.”

“You don’t know that!” Klunko raises his voice. “He just needs medicine. We should have something here that-”

“Klunko…” Flinky tries to speak, struggling to raise his voice enough to be heard. “It’ssss ok… I’ll be fine…” He sputters out in coughs, gasping for breath once the fit ends. He sinks his head into his pillow, closing his eyes. “Sssstay with me… I won’t keep you long…”

Klunko looks like he wants to argue more, but now that it’s apparent without a doubt that Flinky was going to die, he stops himself. There was no point in arguing with the inevitable. Besides, he doesn’t want his last moments with him to be an argument.

“It’ssss good to see you again, Lamby.” Flinky mumbles from the bed, giving them a weak smile. “You’ve grown since we lasssst met.”

“Oh you have no idea, Flinky.” Ratau sniffles. “I have so many stories to tell you, but… I don’t know if I have the time.”

“You can tell me later…” Flinky says. There’s a brief pause in the room before he opens his eyes. “Right? I confess, I tuned you out whenever you sssstarted preaching, but we will meet again, right?”

“All those who pass will be reunited with those who brought them peace in life.” Lamby nods. “There’s been some… changes recently, but rest assured, all of you, this will not be the last time you see each other. Flinky will pass on to the other side and be laid to rest in a cool caressing fog which will take away his pain. There he will wait, slumbering in peace until you join him in death. Whether you thrived or toiled in life, no matter if you were kind or cruel, you will forever be at peace.”

“That soundssss nice…” Flinky sighs, closing his eyes again and settling into his pillow. He takes a couple of deep breaths, but after his second, he goes scarily quiet. Everyone around the bed waits for him to take another breath, but he remains still.

“Flinky?!” Ratau gasps, reaching out for him. The sound causes Flinky to jolt, opening his eyes before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Sssstill here…” He hums. “It’d be rude to leave when you only jusssst arrived.” He glances up at his friends. “It might be a while until I ssssee you all again. At least for you two.”

“Don’t go waiting around for me.” Shrumy says with a forced laugh. “I’m still going strong and I plan to keep going for years to come.”

“I think I’ll missss you the most then…” Flinky says wistfully. “Why are you crying, Ratau?” Flinky asks as he turns to look at the old rat. “With your preaching, I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“I’ve known you since you were a boy.” Ratau sniffles. “It doesn’t seem fair that you’re going first when I’ve already lost so many people. I don’t want to say goodbye to another friend.”

“You’ll see him again, don’t worry.” Lamby tells him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t goodbye forever.”

“Are there dice and cards in the afterlife?” Klunko asks a little sheepishly. “It sounds like one hell of a get together party we’ll be having.”

“I’m sure I can pull some strings to make it happen.” Lamby says, earning a chuckle out of Ratau and Flinky. “I’ll try to visit.”

Flinky breaks into a wide smile at that before another sudden coughing fit overtakes him. Everyone gathers in close, trying their best to comfort him through the fit until he calms down again. Lamby stands back, allowing the group to have their final moments with Flinky uninterrupted. They didn’t know him much, they had only ever met the snake a few times during their visits to the cabin to speak with Ratau. Seeing the tears streaming down Ratau’s face though, they knew Flinky meant a lot to him, they didn’t want to take any time away from him.

Despite wanting to give everyone their space, the crown suggests something else.

”Why let him go to waste?”

”Give him to me.”

”Give his death purpose.”

Lamby glares up at the crown, but they pause to consider the idea. The sin that they’re feeding it is a decent boost, but nothing rivals the power gained from a sacrifice. Not to mention, they still have the necklace Phoenix gave them. Power wouldn’t be the only thing they’d gain from Flinky’s sacrifice, they’d get someone back in return. He was going to die before the end of the day, why not get something out of it? With his sacrifice, they’d be able to save even more people.

They step forward and rest their hand on Ratau’s shoulder. “Ratau? Could I speak to you for a moment?” They ask him. “I won’t keep you away long, I promise.” Ratau looks torn, but glancing back at Flinky, he gives Ratau a short nod. He isn’t going anywhere just yet, he still has time. Rising from Flinky’s side, Ratau turns to follow Lamby as they open the door outside. They step out of earshot of the others, and seeing how desperate Ratau is to rejoin his friend’s side, Lamby cuts right to the chase.

“We should take Flinky back to the temple.” Lamby tells Ratau. “We have an opportunity here that we shouldn’t miss out on.”

Ratau’s face goes deathly pale. “What?!”

“He’s got hours at most.” Lamby explains. “He isn’t going to see the next sunrise. We should take him home and… make the most of this tragedy. We’d spare him his slow death and I could make a place for him on the mem-”

“NO!” Ratau barks out in horror, catching Lamby off guard. “No! Not… I know it’s… But he…” Ratau buries his face in his hands, shaking his head. “Why? Why am I being put in this position again?!”

“I’m…” Lamby is about to apologize, maybe they shouldn’t have asked, but the crown is displeased. “I can give you a few more hours with him if you really need it, but think of how much-”

“No…” Ratau shakes his head and Lamby notes with some alarm that tears are falling from between Ratau’s fingers. “No no no…”

”Weak, sentimental, old fool…”

”Still unable to do what’s necessary.”

Oh no…

Lamby steps forward and wraps their arms around Ratau. “I’m sorry for even suggesting it.” Lamby sighs. If they were putting the pieces together correctly, Ratau was put in this very same position in his past. A dear friend on death's door and an impossible choice to make with them.

Would Lamby hesitate if Ratau was in the same position as Flinky?

…

“Let’s go back inside.” Lamby says, turning Ratau back to the door. “We’ll stay by Flinky’s side till the end, no matter how long it takes.”

“Thank you…” Ratau mutters out in a whisper, leaning into Lamby’s embrace. “I know you’re just… but I… Thank you.” This was something they’d have to talk about. Ratau was always offering to listen to whatever was on Lamby’s mind, the least they could do to repay his kindness is to offer him the same opportunity to open up about what’s got him down.

He’ll need a shoulder to cry on after saying goodbye to one of his best friends.

Lamby leads him back inside and Ratau immediately rejoins his friends by the bed. Lamby doesn’t have that deep of a connection with Ratau’s gambling buddies so they end up awkwardly pacing around, listening in to heartfelt conversations between lifelong friends. They watch with morbid curiosity as they witness Flinky’s last moments of life.

Lamby’s seen more death than any mortal man should. They knew about the slaughter of their kind for as long as they could remember and lost their mother at an incredibly young age. Death had surrounded them at every turn, and when Narinder gave them the power to defend themself, they slaughtered thousands in their vicious, years-long crusades. They’ve tried to distance themself from the more gruesome aspects of death after coming to terms with Narinder’s motives, but in all their years of slaughter and sacrifice, Lamby isn’t sure they’ve ever seen someone pass peacefully. Amdusias gave himself willingly and Fion didn’t struggle or cry out, but they were both still killed before their time. Flinky was not bleeding from battle, poisoned, succumbing to injuries, none of that. His time was up, this was how people were supposed to die.

Tucked away in bed, surrounded by loved ones, living their last moments in comfort and bliss before they pass on.

“Any regrets you want to air out?” Klunko asks his friend, earning a disapproving noise from the worm on his head. “Why is that a bad question to ask?”

“He’s dying, dipshit.” Shrumy scolds him. “Why would you ask him to think about things he can’t fix?”

“I don’t have many…” Flinky chuckles weakly. “The only regret I have is not retiring ssssooner. Had I not pushed myself, maybe I wouldn’t be here.”

“You did good work, Flinky.” Shrumy assures him. “Your trade helped dozens of small villages flourish and prosper.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten into this work without you, Flinky.” Klunko says. “Hell, I wouldn’t have ever met Bop if I didn’t meet you first. I’m gonna miss you man, we both will.”

“There’s still so much I want to say…” Ratau mumbles, choking on his words as he struggles to swallow his tears. “The last few months of my life have been some of the most hectic and important stretches of time in my long life. I could spend days sharing it, but…”

“You’ll have more than enough time to share your stories with him, Ratau.” Lamby chimes in. Despite being a disciple of death, Ratau was struggling to accept what was happening. Lamby is more than happy to offer comfort and guidance to the man who did the same for them countless times through the years. “I’m sure you’ll have even more stories to share by the time you get to see him again.”

The hours stretch by and the sun starts to set on the horizon. No one leaves Flinky’s side as his condition worsens. His coughing fits become harsher and longer as time passes, his breaths becoming shallower and shallower. Despite the weakness and pain, he’s all smiles, using the little bit of energy he has left to laugh with his friends and crack jokes.

Lamby gets a cold shiver down their spine as a sudden weight hangs over them. Glancing up at the crown, it knew it was time, and a few seconds later, everyone around the bed realizes it too. Flinky’s breaths become too shallow and slow, each inhale failing to fill his chest with enough air to keep him alive. Lamby sees a flash of fear in Flinky’s eyes as he realizes what’s happening. He gives everyone one last look, taking them all in for the last time.

He closes his eyes, and everyone sits in complete silence, listening for him to take a breath. He remains still and quiet. Shrumy reaches out to him and rests his hand on his skin, trying to feel for a pulse. He finds none.

Flinky is dead.

Shrumy pulls his hand back, his typically rough features softening considerably as a somber look settles on his face. Klunko sniffles, wiping at his face with his one hand as Bop curls up on his head. Ratau’s face rests on the mattress beside his dead friend to hide his tears as silent sobs wracked his body. He doesn’t say a word but Lamby can hear his cries as he prays for his best friend.

”Please make sure he’s ok. I need to know he’s at peace now. Please.”

Lamby steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder. “I will.” Lamby tells him. They will ensure that Flinky is safe and sound in the afterlife. Looking over at the other three, Lamby straightens themself out. “Where will he be buried?” They ask, looking over the dead snake. “Do they have a home to be returned to?”

“Not really.” Klunko chokes out. “He was on the move all the time like Shrumy. He has a place in Anura, but he never stuck around.”

“This place is as good as any.” Shrumy says softly. “This place was a second home for all of us and a first for Ratau. With how many good memories this place has for us all, he should be buried here.”

“Ratau?” Lamby tries to help Ratau up, but he remains knelt over the bed. Lamby decides to leave him there. “Prepare him for burial when you’re ready. Take your time.” Leaving Ratau to grieve, Lamby moves for the door, gesturing for the other three. “Help me pick out a spot.”

The last few moments of daylight are spent digging a grave next to the old shrine Ratau had built to The One Who Waits as Shrumy assembles a marker for it. By the time they’re finished, Ratau has composed himself enough to step outside with Flinky wrapped up in the bedsheets he died in. With Lamby’s help, he’s gently lowered into the ground before they work to fill the hole back up.

Stepping towards the newly filled grave, Shrumy reaches for a flask on the back of his shell, popping the cap off before pouring it out for his friend. Once it’s empty, he lets out a tired sigh before returning the flask to his shell and turning to face Lamby.

“So you gonna preach at us or something now?” He asks tiredly. “Gonna ramble on about the nature of death or what earns someone a spot in the afterlife?”

“There’s nothing to add that I didn’t already tell him.” Lamby shakes their head. “Besides, I have a flock to return to. I didn’t plan to stay out here for so long, but I wanted to be here for Ratau. I really should be heading back.” Lamby turns to Ratau. “Do you want to come back home with me?” They ask. “I understand if you’d rather spend time with your friends here.”

Ratau seems torn for a moment, unsure of who he wants to spend his time with. He looks between Lamby and the friends he still has left.

“I…” He chokes out, still strangled with grief. “I want to stay here tonight…” He eventually gets out. “Could you come back tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course.” Lamby nods, hugging him tight. “I was already planning on checking in every once in a while, remember? Take all the time you need here though. I think I can manage things myself for a little bit.”

“Thank you Lamby…” Ratau tells them, hugging them back. “I know this might be a bit foolish considering I’m-”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Lamby assures him. “Even if Flinky’s in a better place now, it’s still hard to see him go. I feel the same for those who gave their lives to me. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here to take you back home when you’re ready.”

“Thank you…” Ratau holds the embrace a little longer, tears freely flowing down his cheeks. The sun had fully set over the horizon and while they wanted nothing more than to stay here and comfort Ratau, they had an entire village to care for as well. Lamby eventually slips out of Ratau’s arms, giving themself some space to teleport back home.

With a wave to Ratau and his remaining friends, Lamby sends themself back home.

To their relief, the village looks to be in one piece. They didn’t really expect the whole place to burst into flames without supervision, though with a certain particularly hostile cat within the flock, the chances of something bad happening weren’t zero.

This late into the evening, most people have retreated to their homes for the night. Only a few people remained outside to finish up their chores or to speak with their neighbors. Among them, Lamby spots the two people they needed to see; Yahroi and Ratoo. Both stood by the doors of the temple, though Yahroi looked to be struggling to stay awake. Upon seeing Lamby approach her though, she straightens herself up a little more.

“Lord Lamby, you’ve returned.” She mumbles sleepily, bowing her head slightly and nearly stumbling. Ratoo reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder to keep her upright.

“I’ve been telling her to just go to sleep and let me handle things, but she insisted that she stuck around until you returned.” Ratoo says.

“Lord’s orders.” Yahroi tries to argue.

“Well, anything to report?” Lamby asks. “I’m sorry for being out for so long, but there was an emergency I had to see to.”

“There was?!” Ratoo asks with sudden alarm.

“Ratau is alright.” Lamby is quick to assure him. “Flinky… passed away today. Ratau is with the rest of his friends grieving now. I will check on him again soon to bring him back, but he wants to be with his friends now.” Ratoo looks stunned for a moment but he eventually nods his head in understanding. Lamby doesn’t know how close Ratoo is with his brother’s friends, but no doubt he feels for his brother. In the brief moment that Lamby shares with Ratoo, Yahroi drifts off a little bit, her head tilting off to the side. “Yahroi?”

“Guh?! Oh, right.” She snorts, shaking her head to try and wake herself up. “Nothing much to report.” She says. “He only stepped out once a few hours ago after dinner. He didn’t look so good, I think he might have hurt himself or something. He rummaged around in the kitchen and ran off with an armload of stuff. He didn’t come out for dinner like everyone else so I think he was stealing what he could when he thought no one was watching.”

Well that isn’t great, but it isn’t nearly as bad as things could have been. “Thank you, Yahroi. You can go to sleep now.”

“Yay…” She breaks into a smile and closes her eyes. Her eyes stay closed for a while and after a couple of seconds, she starts to lean forward. With a jolt of panic, Lamby steps forward and props her up, startling her back awake.

“In your home, Yahroi.” Lamby tells her, trying to push her back up.

“Oh, yeah…” Yahroi mumbles. “That’s a good idea…”

“Ratoo, could you make sure she doesn’t pass out in the grass somewhere?” Lamby asks the elder rat who remains by the temple.

“Sure.” Ratoo nods, resting a supporting hand on Yahroi’s back to lead her home. “Are you going to check in on the thief?” Lamby nods their head. What they did to him is still fresh on their mind and they need to make sure he doesn’t get any funny ideas. Stealing is one thing, but what if he gets bolder? “I will be patrolling around a little longer, but I will also retire for the night soon. Goodnight Lamby. Bring Ratau back home safe.”

“I will.” Lamby assures him.

They watch as Ratoo leads the tired Yahroi back home, leaving the village quiet and still. Walking around the temple, Lamby starts making their way to the lonely cabin at the edge of the clearing. Now that they’ve had time to settle, the guilt of what happened in their room earlier today returns, doubly so now that they know what was happening while they were lashing out. They denied the Red Crown a sacrifice, they will still have to purge themself of sin to sate it tonight.

Maybe that will cheer Narinder up, knowing that the lashings he got will be given to them as well. He wanted to see them suffer, he’ll get his wish.

Approaching the cabin, the curtains are drawn over the single window, though Lamby can see dim candlelight peeking out from beneath the curtains. He’s still awake. Lamby knocks on the door and while they hear a startled hiss inside, Narinder does not answer.

“I know you looted the kitchens.” Lamby says through the door. “I understand you probably didn’t want to be seen with the damage I did to you, but you have other means outside of thievery.”

“I will kill you, vile lamb…” Narinder growls through the door. Even more threats, how original.

“Open the door.” Lamby commands. “Let me see what you took. I don’t care about the food, I just don’t trust that food is all you took. I will get in there, one way or another. Don’t make this harder on yourself like you did earlier today.” Lamby is growing impatient, but faced with the threat of forced entry, they hear Narinder move for the door.

Lamby waits patiently and is delighted to see the door crack open. They step forward, opening their mouth to praise Narinder for listening to reason, but their words die in their throat as they see a flash of steel illuminated in the moonlight going straight for their face.

Chapter Text

Lamby jolts, their hands flying to their face in a panic as they try to get away. Their efforts leave them incredibly disoriented as they suddenly find themselves lying on their back instead of standing on their feet and the dark of night was suddenly replaced with blinding white. They were in the afterlife?! They pat themself down, searching for any sign of injury when they return their hands to their face again. There was a damp spot on their forehead and feeling around, they think they can feel the edges of a puncture wound right in the center of it.

Oh that cat was a dead man.

Evidently he did take more than just food from the kitchens and must have gotten his hands on a knife. They feel a bit ashamed of themself for even letting something like this happen. An injured, mortal man killed them in their own home. They slaughtered a god and went on several crusades since their last death only for their streak to be ended in the stupidest way possible.

Lamby pushes to their feet, shaking their head to try and fend off the headache pounding behind their eyes, but glancing around the afterlife, they take a deep breath and try to settle down. This certainly wasn’t how they wanted things to go, but while they’re here, they had some business to attend to. They’ll be back eventually, they’ll give Narinder some time to realize how badly he messed up and let him simmer in fear for his imminent punishment. They were gonna make that bastard sorry.

They hope he tries to run away. He’ll get to experience what it was like for them to grow up in this world as he’s hunted down by a god.

They start marching through the bone dust desert, following a familiar path despite knowing that Narinder wouldn’t be waiting for them. Instead, they find the old god who took his place presiding over a much cleaner afterlife. The chains were gone, the blood seems to have been washed away, and all signs of the epic battle that took place here had vanished. Phoenix was sticking to their end of the bargain, watching over and tending to the dead while Lamby grew in power and hunted down the lost souls who belonged here.

Taking their crown off as they approach the god, Lamby shakes free a god tear from the crown’s void which they harvested from their last crusade. They hold it out to the god, but before it takes it, it passes some comments.

“The new God of Death, slain by the former.” It muses.

“I’d rather not talk about what just happened.” Lamby whines.

“During the rule of the first gods, such an act would leave the killer the rightful owner of their victim's crown. Of course, no mortal had ever slain a god in those times, and your particular crown grants you unique protections.”

“Can you just take the tear?” Lamby holds out the offering, begging the divine being to take it. The old god chuckles as the tear lifts from their hand and floats towards the formless face of the god.

“I have been dead for some time.” It says, taking the tear within itself. “Forgive me. I find all of this rather amusing. Now, your gift. What is it you desire for your continued work?”

Lamby takes a moment to think it over. There was so much on offer. Phoenix could give them another charm to match the first one it gave them, allowing them to bring Aym back as well as Baal whenever they find willing sacrifices to draw them out. They could also ask Phoenix for power, giving them the strength to keep pushing forward in their crusades without the need to sacrifice or hurt others. Looking around the empty desert and with the event still fresh on their mind, Lamby makes a peculiar request to the old god.

“I want to speak with Flinky.” Lamby says. “He died only hours ago. If you’re holding up your end of our bargain, you should have seen him.”

Phoenix had no face or actual head, but the hood formed around the void where its head should be tilted to the side. “For what reason do you have to disturb the dead?” It asks. “You would waste your blessing to speak with a spirit which can no longer offer you anything?”

“It isn’t a waste.” Lamby glares up at them.

“I must ask that you reconsider.” Phoenix says, catching Lamby by surprise. “I grant you these blessings so that you may continue your duty unimpeded. You have nothing to gain from this transaction and I find your desire to disturb the dead un-”

“I paid you, didn’t I?!” Lamby asks, their hands shaking. “I am the God of Death. This is my domain and the souls that sleep here are my subjects! I have already proven to you that we both share a common goal and wish to see the people Narinder damned put to rest. I will continue my work, I will continue to grant you offerings. All I ask is to speak with one of the countless dead. Is this really where you’re going to draw the line when you allowed Narinder to cast people out of the afterlife you built?!”

Lamby stares up into the formless void that is Phoenix's face, feeling what felt like a hundred different eyes burning into them. All these gods are the same, treating mortals like disposable trash. They didn’t know Flinky that well, but they made a promise to Ratau. They’re going to see him again. They bear the Red Crown, it is their right to speak to their subjects.

Phoenix doesn’t move, but Lamby startles as something slips out from beneath its floating robes. Appearing from the darkness of Phoenix’s body appears to be a much smaller version of itself. It floats towards them, stopping a few feet away while staring at them from the void in its head.

“You will be led to the recently deceased.” Phoenix announces. “Say what you must and learn to perform this duty yourself as you are shown the way. I will not do you this favor again and will only offer tangible blessings.”

“Fine by me.” Lamby says, staring at the strange mini phoenix. “Take me to him.”

Without a word between them, the smaller figure starts to float off, leaving Lamby to follow after it. Lamby wants to ask what this thing even was. Was it Phoenix’s kid? A mini doppelganger? A completely different but much smaller old god? With how tense this whole transaction was, Lamby decides to keep their questions to themself. It can wait until they’re on better terms again.

Lamby follows after the miniature god through the afterlife, leaving hoofprints in the ash as they search. Phoenix said that they’d have to learn to find people on their own out here, but they aren’t quite sure how they’re supposed to do that. They’ve never actually seen anyone out here other than Narinder and his disciples. They know that other people are here, Amdusias told them what he saw on the other side, but all they see is miles and miles of endless desert.

The mere thought of Amdusias sends a shiver down their spine all of a sudden. They slow their pace to look around, but the mini god keeps moving. They don’t see anything, but they can feel a presence all of a sudden. They’re about to brush the feeling off and focus on their task when a voice suddenly catches them off guard.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

Lamby jolts and whips around. In what was once an empty stretch of what desert, they suddenly find two familiar faces staring back at them. Lying in the ash and now sitting up with shock, Lamby finds Tana and Amdusias. They’re left completely stunned on the spot as Tana pushes himself to his feet.

“I’m gonna give you a piece of my mind you little-”

“Tana, wait!” Amdusias gets up to try and hold his friend back. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Why not?!” He asks. “It’s their fault we’re both here!”

Lamby is both shocked, relieved, and horrified to meet with these two again, but glancing over their shoulder, they find their escort is still floating away. It isn’t stopping for them to have this conversation.

“Um, it’s nice to see you two again, but I really have to go!” Lamby says, backing away as Tana continues to shout. “It was nice seeing you two again though! And Amdusias, Ratoo is eternally grateful for what you did for him!”

Lamby quickly runs off to catch up with the mini god. Once they’re caught up, they cast a backwards glance to find the two former followers were gone. They’re left second guessing themself, wondering if they were actually real or if their mind was playing tricks on them. They looked too real to be hallucinations, but there were no signs that they were ever here.

They suppose they know how to talk to the dead now. Now they just need to learn how to properly find people.

They aren’t interrupted for the rest of the walk, the only sound they hear is their soft footfalls in the ash and bone dust beneath them as they follow the floating escort. WIthout a word, the mini god suddenly stops, forcing Lamby to stop behind it. Lamby looks around for any signs of their friend, but it’s still just endless desert for as far as they can see. The escort turns around to face them and Lamby meets the two eyes that form in its empty void of a face. It slowly closes its eyes and bows its head and after a few moments of thought, Lamby does the same.

They think they understand what they need to do. Amdusias simply crossed their mind and seconds later he appeared along with Tana. Could it be as simple as wishing to see Flinky to summon him?

With the thought alone, the oppressive silence around them is suddenly filled with the sound of light snoring.

Lamby opens their eyes to find that the god has vanished, leaving them all alone. They look around, trying to follow the sound of snoring which has filled in the silence when they spot him lying in the ash. Wrapped up in a neat coil, Flinky snores softly, looking much younger and healthier than he did in his last moments in life. Lamby didn’t really want to disturb his sleep, but they had a promise to keep and they’re sure he’ll sleep soundly knowing his friends missed him.

“Flinky?” Lamby kneels down beside Flinky, trying to wake him gently. “Flinky, can you hear me?” Flinky coils up a little tighter, grumbling as he tries to bury his face and block them out. “I won’t bother you long, I just wanted to welcome you here.”

“Wuh?” Flinky struggles to open his eyes. “I’m dying, kid…” He yawns. “Let me get what rest I can before…” Once he gets a good look at Lamby and where he is, Flinky’s eyes go wide as he looks around. “Oh.” He mumbles, looking more than shocked. “Oh sssshit.”

“Welcome to the afterlife.” Lamby chuckles a little bit at his reaction. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“What happened to you?!” Flinky asks. “You were fine… How long have I been dead?”

“A few hours or so.” Lamby says. “As for me, I simply came to visit. Your friends already miss you a lot and Ratau wanted me to come check on you to make sure you were alright. He isn’t taking it well, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that you’re doing alright here.”

“Huh…” Flinky seems to still be coming to terms with the fact that he’s dead. He unfurls himself and raises his head to look around a bit more. “I’ll be honest, this place lookssss a bit dreary.”

“It does…” Lamby grumbles. “Once Phoenix backs off a bit and I get more control over this place, I’ll see what I can do to pretty it up a little.”

“Who?” Flinky scratches his head with the tip of his tail. “Isn’t The One Who Waits in charge of this place? I didn’t listen to much of Ratau’s preaching but I remembered that at least.”

“Not anymore.” Lamby shakes their head with a smile. “You’re looking up at the new, officially recognized Lord of Death.”

Flinky looks up at them in shock. “Wait?! When did this happen?!”

“A few months ago.” Lamby shrugs. “Ratau helped. Did you not notice the burn scars?”

“I didn’t want to be rude.” Flinky says, still reeling from the information he’s been given. “Sssso I’m talking to an actual god now, is that right?” Lamby nods. “Ratau wassss right. He must have been busy since we last met.”

“We’ve got plenty of time now if you want to hear that story.” Lamby offers.

“No.” Flinky shakes his head. “I’d rather hear it from him. Though… I ssssupose for him to do that, he’d have to die too.”

“It’ll happen to everyone eventually.” Lamby says. “That’s just the way this works, though Ratau might take a while to get here naturally. I hope you can find comfort here as you wait.”

“I was having a pretty good ssssnooze a moment ago.” Flinky nods. “I didn’t even realize I passed. I can wait. I’m sure Klunko and Bop will be here before long.”

Lamby raises a brow at that. “What makes you so sure of that?” They ask.

Flinky snorts. “I’ve known Klunko for yearssss. Dumb bastard bet his own hand in a game of Knucklebones, he’ll do something sssstupid and end up here long before either Shrumy or Ratau do and Bop will probably follow after him. In fact, I bet that he’ll bet on which of those two will join us first. Though, I don’t think we have anything to bet with anymore.”

“Want me to tell them that?” Lamby asks. It’s a bit dark, but maybe they’ll enjoy some dark humor from their lost friend.

“Ssssure, make it a competition.” Flinky chuckles. “Who can last the longest?” Flinky lets out another yawn as he starts to curl up again. “It’s nice to ssssee you again, Lamby, but I would love to return to my sssslumber.”

“Right.” Lamby says. “This is a place of rest. I shouldn’t be bothering you. Is there anything you want me to tell your friends when I get back?”

“Tell them…” He curls up, resting his head and closing his eyes. “Tell them I miss them and that I’ll be patient for our reunion. Also, Klunko better not touch my sssstuff. Ssssend it home back to my family in Anura.”

“I’ll pass on your message.” Lamby assures him, earning a smile from the snake as he starts to drift off. “Sleep well, Flinky. You’ve earned your rest.”

Remaining by Flinky’s side, Lamby watches as his form fades away, his body crumbling like ash before joining the rest of the desert. Lamby is left alone again, carrying Flinky’s last message in their heart for when they return to Ratau.

Knowing that they can speak with the dead and desperate to reunite with so many people, Lamby pushes those desires aside for now. They had work to do. They needed to return home as soon as possible after Narinder’s little stunt. Who knows what damage he could be causing while unsupervised.

They just hope Ratau isn’t too broken up before they bring the good news.

Calling on the crown’s power, they return home. The afterlife had mended their wounds long before they left to find Flinky, but with their business done, there was no need to linger. Appearing at the top of the steps overlooking the village, Lamby steps down and makes a beeline for the cabin at the edge of the clearing. Their hands shook, rage built up within them, but they were feeling gracious tonight. Narinder actually inadvertently helped them run some errands by stabbing them in the face, he’d get off easy this time.

Though he was definitely getting the whip again when it came time to draw another confession out of him.

Lamby does not bother knocking. The crown leaves their head and wraps around their arms into powerful gauntlets as Lamby reaches for the doorknob. It’s of course locked, but a metal lock isn’t enough to stand up against their strength. With the crown’s gauntlets boosting their power, the lock snaps as they force the door open and let themself inside.

In the corner of the room, Lamby finds Narinder leaping back in surprise, a bloodied kitchen knife clutched in his hand. Lying on the floor was…

“Huh…” Lamby stares down at their own lifeless corpse lying on Narinder’s floor. “You know, I never considered that I left anything behind after I revived.” Looking back up at Narinder, he looked absolutely horrified, clutching his knife tightly and holding it out at arm’s length in front of him to force Lamby to stay away. “Did you think that would actually work on the God of Death? You look surprised to see me back.”

“I will do it again!” Narinder threatens, but when Lamby takes a step forward, he pushes himself further into the corner.

Such a pathetic man, still trying to cling to power but folding the moment he’s shown resistance. Lamby can hardly believe they ever had an ounce of respect for this man.

Lamby looks over the room, finding a couple stolen sweets and meats from the kitchens, but also knives, cleavers, and other cutlery. He was gathering up food, but he took almost half the kitchen with him too. The corpse Lamby left behind was unceremoniously plopped down in the middle of the room, bleeding into the floorboards, but seeing the seasonings and knives dumped on the floor next to it, a horribly cruel idea comes to mind.

“I do not have time to deal with you.” Lamby tells Narinder, their gauntlets reforming into their crown. “You may keep what you’ve taken, but this is ALL you will receive for the next week. You will not leave this house to get food, to visit Ratau, or even use the outhouse. You don’t want to mingle with my flock, so I’m sure you won’t mind too much.”

“What…” Narinder glances around the small confines of his house. “What am I supposed to eat?! I’ve taken only enough to last a day or two!”

“There’s fresh meat right here.” Lamby kicks at their own corpse, feeling a shiver run up their leg as they do. “You keep acting like a mindless beast lashing out at everyone who comes close, you can eat like one. Your sister’s following thought I was tasty and believed lamb chops were a delicacy. Be grateful that your lord is letting you eat at all after what you’ve done.” Lamby turns to leave, looking over the broken lock in the door before they step out.

“I am no beast!” Narinder growls, finding the courage to step forward with his knife. “You will not confine me in this shack! I will not be locked in another prison!”

“You’ve done this to yourself, Narinder.” Lamby says, taking the doorknob. “Your confession from earlier today is proof to me that there is a part of you who feels remorse for what happened to your siblings, or at the very least regret for not listening to them before they were forced to lock you away. You have a long week ahead of you. Think long and hard about why this keeps happening to you. Maybe then you won’t be treated like the beast you act like now.”

Stepping outside and slamming the door shut behind them, they cast a curse on the doorknob and its lock, warping the metal with hellfire. The knob doesn’t turn, and giving the door a couple tugs, it’s now locked tight with no way to undo it. Narinder will probably try to break it down or shatter the window to escape that way, but then he’d have nowhere to hide from the mortals he despises so much. He’s going to stay right here if he knows what’s good for him.

Lamby steps away, hearing Narinder scratch at the door as he tries to claw his way out to no avail. After what he did, Lamby doubts even Ratau will blame them for locking him up for everyone else’s safety. Despite that, hearing his panicked shouting as he bangs on the door returns the feeling of guilt that they swallowed down earlier today. They allowed themself to do some truly wicked things today. Deserved or not, that guilt was eating them up and they needed to expel it.

Walking towards the temple, Lamby braces themself for the whip. At least the crown will be happy with their actions today. The pain they would endure would be worth it for the strength it would grant them in their next crusade.

Ratau’s head pounds and he’s forcibly pulled into consciousness as something nudges against his face. Everything feels too bright, every movement feels too strenuous, and there’s an absolutely disgusting taste in his mouth that he’s desperate to wash away. How much did he drink last night? Squinting his eye to try and make sense of where he is, he spots at least three empty bottles sitting on the table he’s lying his head against.

Not only that, Bop was currently pressing up against his face, trying to wake him up. He’d oblige him, but he felt like absolute shit right now. He rolls his head around on the table, looking for someone to get this annoying worm out of his face, but Klunko is out cold too. Guess he must have taken to the drinks too. That eases Ratau’s worries at least a little bit, knowing all these empty bottles weren’t put down by just him. He looks around for his other friends…

Well… friend now… He won’t be seeing Flinky again for a very long time…

Before he can linger on that fact for much longer, his front door opens up and blinding sunlight fills the room, making him groan in anguish.

“They up yet, Bop?” Shrumy calls out into the room, grunting with exertion as he sets down two buckets of water. Bop leaves Ratau alone to continue trying to wake Klunko up as Ratau tries to force himself to sit upright. “I don’t know how the hell you fetch water like this every single day. My legs are killing me.” Ratau just whines in response. He’s in no mood or condition to speak right now. He closes his eye to try and get some more rest, but before he knows it, Shrumy is lifting up his head and holding something up to his lips. “Drink.”

Ratau does so gratefully, chugging down fresh cold water to wash the taste out of his mouth. He needs to flush himself out and eat something, anything to take away the pain in his pounding head and churning guts.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you put down that much drink in one night since Klunko lost his hand.” Shrumy chuckles a bit as he refills the cup with more water. “I miss him too, but there’s no need to drink yourself to death to meet with him again.”

“I jus got…” Ratau stops to take a proper breath after gulping down even more water. “...carried away. Ugh…” Ratau runs his hand across his face and head, stopping to massage his temples. As he does, Shrumy looks him over for a moment. “Wuh?”

“What happened to you?” He asks. “Where’s your little paper crown? Where did all these scars come from?”

“”S a long story…” Ratau grumbles, chugging down even more water. “A story I really wanted to tell him…”

“Well you’ll get to tell him eventually, right?” Shrumy asks. “That’s what you and Lamby always went on about. The One Who Waits will reunite us in death or somethin’?”

Ratau takes a few moments to process what Shrumy said, but once he does, Ratau realizes just how far behind everyone is on current events. They don’t know about the change in power, his new home in the village, Ratoo’s return and recovery. He was just excited to share his battle with Narinder with Flinky, but he’s got so much more catching up to do with the rest of his friends.

“I’m still not sure if I’m willing to dedicate myself to this whole belief you’ve sworn yourself to, but I hope you’re right.” Shrumy says. “I’d like to see him again some day.”

Ratau nods solemnly as he continues to drink and wake up. Shrumy moves on to trying to wake Klunko up and give him the same treatment. Ratau knows that Flinky is at peace now, especially now that Lamby was responsible for him over Narinder, but it was still incredibly painful to know that he would never see Flinky again for as long as he lived. He was a hundred years old, but he’s still got plenty of life in him thanks to Narinder’s gift.

Would he outlive the rest of his friends? Losing Flinky hurt so much, but if he loses everyone else too…

It was no wonder he felt so awful, he wanted to stop thinking about this right now. Thankfully, a knock on the door is distracting enough to draw his attention. The thought vanishes completely when the door opens and Lamby steps inside.

“Lamby!” He lights up immediately, trying to stand up to greet them, though he quickly realizes his mistake as the sudden movement causes his head to swim. He sits himself back down, resting his hand on his head.

“Good morning Ratau!” Lamby returns the greeting, though their joy is quickly replaced with concern. “Are you alright?”

“No he ain’t.” Shrumy says as he jostles Klunko awake, getting him to sit up so Bop can take his place on top of his head. “The old man put his liver through the wringer last night. Don’t suppose your all powerful lord has hangover cures.”

“He clearly doesn’t because he’s no better at holding in his drinks either.” Lamby scoffs, referring to Narinder’s sad state when he got his hands on a bottle of wine.

“Wuh?!” Klunko shakes himself awake after hearing that. “God’s a lightweight?”

“It’s a long story.” Lamby sighs, repeating the same sentiment Ratau did earlier. “I spoke with Flinky last night.”

Everyone at the table raises their heads to stare Lamby down.

“Y-you did?!” Ratau asks in surprise.

“It was a real hassle to get to him, but yes, I spoke with Flinky.” Lamby nods. “He was pretty eager to get back to his rest, but we shared some words before he returned to his slumber.”

“What’d he say?” Shrumy asks, sounding a bit skeptical, but Ratau can’t miss the sound of hope in his voice.

“He said he already misses you but he will remain patient until you arrive.” Lamby tells him. “He also told Klunko not to touch any of his stuff now that he’s dead and that he plans to make a bet with him to see whether or not you or Ratau will outlive each other.”

“Why am I not part of that bet?” Klunko asks.

“He figures you’ll do something stupid and get yourself killed long before Ratau or Shrumy croak.” Lamby says.

Shrumy lets out a chortle. “Well I’ll be damned… You actually did see him, didn’t you?”

“Ratau wanted me to make sure he was resting well.” Lamby tells him. “I didn’t really plan to do it last night, but… Ratau? Are you alright?”

Ratau brings a hand up to his eye, wiping away the tears that were starting to spill again. “I’m alright, Lamby.” He sniffles. “Thank you for answering my prayers.”

“It’s the least I can do, Ratau.” Lamby tells him, giving him a big smile. “I even got to see some other friends too while I was at it, though I couldn’t stick around long. I saw Amdusias while I was out there!”

“Really?!” Ratau asks in surprise. “Did he look well?”

“I think so.” Lamby shrugs. “He seemed fine, but Tana wasn’t really happy to see me. I think he was actually going to beat me up, but I was in a rush and didn’t stick around long enough for him to catch me. They were together though, that’s what Amdusias wanted in his last moments. If they found each other, I’m sure all of you will find each other too when the time comes.”

That is beyond relieving to hear. Flinky was at peace and Ratau will one day return to him again. It’s going to be a long while, but at the very least, he has Lamby to act as messenger if he really needs to talk to him.

“Have things been going well back home without me?” Ratau asks. “Are you having any trouble?”

“Things have been… mostly fine.” Lamby says after a short pause, their eyes flicking off to the side.

“What’d he do?” Ratau asks, already knowing that Narinder must have gotten into trouble.

“Well, um…” Lamby pauses again, trying to pick their words. With how shifty their eyes are, he gets the feeling that they’re trying to hold something back from him. “The physical gate to the afterlife is blocked off. The only way for me to actually get there is to die myself. It wasn’t a planned trip.”

Ratau sobers up very quickly after hearing that.

“What?!” He barks out in shock. “What the hell happened?!”

“Yeah, I’m lost…” Klunko says behind him. “Did I hear that right?”

“I… might have deserved it…” Lamby says, still not meeting Ratau’s eyes.

“The hell could you have done to deserve being murdered?!” Ratau asks only to remember a moment later that the animosity Narinder showed to Lamby didn’t go one way. “What did you do to push him to do that?”

Lamby’s ears fall a little as their shoulders slouch. They’re definitely guilty of something. “He’s fine.” They deflect. “I sealed up his door so he can’t get out and do anything while I’m here to pick you up. I’ll let him out in a few days after he’s had time to think about what he’s done. He has food, so he won’t starve while he’s locked away.”

“The hell is going on in that village?!” Shrumy asks. “What weirdo cult did I walk into yesterday?”

“Would you like to join us on our trip back?” Lamby asks, happy to change the subject. “You don’t have to attend the sermon if you don’t want to, but I’d love to show you around. You could all meet Ratoo again too! He’s been doing much better since you last saw him.”

“Not if you’re gonna do that teleporting thing again.” Shrumy argues. “I don’t think either of these three are fit enough to do it either.”

“It’s not that bad.” Ratau says. “Would you rather walk for half a week when we could get there in less than a minute?”

“You’re all hungover and my balance is shit.” Shrumy says. “It’s not gonna be an easy trip.”

“Bop wants to teleport.” Klunko says on behalf of Bop. “I’ve seen Lamby do it before and heard Shrumy complain about it, we wanna see what it’s like.” Shrumy grumbles as Ratau tries to push himself out of his seat to prepare for the trip. He stumbles a bit and Lamby reaches out to steady him. He gives them a smile, but firmly grasps their shoulders.

“We’re going to have to talk.” He tells them. “You’re going to tell me everything that happened, alright?”

Lamby slumps a little bit with shame, but they meet his eye this time and nods. “Alright.” They say. “And… sorry, in advance.”

Hearing that only gets him to worry a little more, but he’s happy to hear that they’re willing to be honest with him. Now back on his feet, he gathers up all of his friends and picks up a few things he wants to bring with him back home before everyone groups up in front of the cabin for transport. Ratau sends one last backward glance at the grave nearby before Lamby takes them all through a portal and returns them home.

The trip is a lot more strenuous than he’s used to as the flashing lights and disorienting movement nearly causes him to trip over himself. Klunko just barely manages to land on his feet, only to get knocked over as Shrumy tumbles and crashes into him.

“God damn it!” Shrumy barks out, flailing to try and get himself up. “I hate this shit! I ain’t ever doing that again!”

“That was cool!” Klunko says after freeing himself from beneath Shrumy’s shell and making sure Bop was still on board. “Can you do that wherever you want?! Gods, I could skip the days of travel and just jump straight to the trading posts! I’d save so much time!”

“It’s pretty useful.” Lamby laughs, kneeling down to help Shrumy back to his feet again. “Everyone’s reactions to it are different though. People usually only go through them once to get here and they never have a reason to leave with one. Now, do you want to go again, or do you think you can manage the stairs?”

“I’ll take my chances with the stairs.” Shrumy announces, pushing past everyone. “Just keep your devil magic away from me.”

“You three?” Lamby asks.

“Take us away!” Klunko says.

“Just give me a couple seconds to get my bearings.” Ratau pleads, still reeling a little bit from the first jump. He really hopes this feeling passes before long.

After a few moments, Lamby takes the rest of them along the short distance down the stairs, beating Shrumy before he can fully descend. Once everyone’s on the same level, Lamby begins to tour them around the village. Many of their followers rush to greet them and introduce themselves to the newcomers to make them feel welcome, though of course Ratau was already very familiar with the place.

“Lamby, why don’t you make preparations for today’s sermon.” Ratau tells them. “I can show my friends here around the place.”

“Alright.” Lamby nods. “Just don’t push yourself. Maybe swing by the doctor’s to see if they have anything for your headache. The sermon will begin in an hour.”

Sending Lamby away has the desired effect of drawing most of the attention away from Ratau and his friends, giving him some much needed peace and quiet to clear his head. He still has guests to show around though, so he presses forward, touring Shrumy, Klunko, and Bop around the village.

“This place is way too tacky.” Shrumy complains as he looks over all the gold and ornate decorations. “The place we set up decades ago was much more charming and homely.”

“Lamby’s got a taste for the finer things.” Ratau chuckles, stopping to admire one of the murals painted on the side of someone’s house. “They’re obsessed with making everything around them look pretty. It’s certainly nicer here than the old dusty cabin.”

“The hell’re you talking about?” Shrumy snorts. “The cabin is far more inviting than this. All this just screams insecurity to me. I can’t look anywhere without seeing the lamb either painted on a wall or in statue form.”

“Well, five years ago no one saw any lambs at all.” Ratau points out a bit solemnly. “Maybe it’s them being narcissistic, but I like to think that they’re trying to surround themself with their kind.”

“Isn’t this whole place supposed to be dedicated to worship though?” Klunko asks. “Are there no statues of your god?”

“Right, I should probably clear that up.” Ratau chuckles. “There’s been a change in management recently. Little Lamby is our lord now. The One Who Waits has been overthrown.” Everyone stops to stare at him in shock for a moment. “You see why I was so choked up about not being able to tell Flinky?”

“When did this happen?!” Klunko asks. “Is that why you look so beat up?”

“Yeah.” Ratau nods. “A couple months ago, Lamby left to free the lord from his chains, but he turned out to be a huge prick.”

“Told you so.” Shrumy says. He told Ratau over eighty years ago, but he did say that messing with the gods was a bad idea.

“It was not a great time.” Ratau sighs. “I barely made it out alive, but I gave the lord a serious beating before I went down. Now Lamby has taken his place and has worked tirelessly to undo the many wrongs Lord Narinder committed during his exile.”

“Huh…” Shrumy takes a moment to let all of that sink in. “So who’s the troublemaker you and Lamby were talking about earlier?”

“That would be… Lord Narinder.” He pauses to look back and finds his friends staring at him in disbelief. “Lord Lamby spared his life in an act of kindness and self restraint. He lives within the village as a mortal man now, though he hasn’t taken to it well. I have done my best to help him settle as I saw him as a good friend and protector for most of my life, but he and Lamby struggle to be kind to each other.”

“Didn’t he kill them?!” Klunko asks. “That is what I overheard earlier, right?”

“Death is a minor inconvenience for bearers of the Red Crown.” Ratau says. “I’ve technically died dozens of times myself.”

“But why keep someone like that around?!” Shrumy asks. “It sounds like you have a vengeful, violent god running loose in your village.

Ratau grumbles as his headache continues to pound away within his skull. “Lamby’s reasoning for keeping him around are obtuse and complicated. He’s hurt us both over the years and made us do things we wish we didn’t. I want to get the lord I once considered a friend back and I’m positive that I’m making progress with him. As for Lamby… They’d be no better than him if they just killed him outright. This is a place of healing and rest in spite of Narinder’s wishes. I thought we were getting through to him, but evidently he’s still got a bone to pick with Lamby.”

Something must have happened between them while he was out. Narinder was still incredibly hostile towards Lamby especially, but he restrained himself from actually acting on any of his threats. Maybe Narinder does appreciate his company and knows that their flimsy companionship will be over if any harm comes to the kid, but it’s evident that Lamby was doing something behind his back too.

The second he left them alone they started tearing into each other. He seems to be the only thing holding them both back.

When did he become babysitter for the current and old God of Death?

“Ratoo?!” Klunko suddenly blurts out, drawing Ratau from his thoughts. Ratoo seems to have just woken up and was walking around the village to work off the rest of his drowsiness. He’s delighted to see Ratau back home, but even more surprised to see his friends here too.

“Holy…” Ratoo walks over to join them. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you guys. It’s been years!”

“Time has been kinder to you than it has to us.” Shrumy chuckles. “You don’t look like a walking corpse anymore. How’ve you been?”

“Never been better.” Ratoo says, tugging down the front of his robes to bare his chest. It’s healed considerably since Hathor was returned to him, but there’s still a sizable hole to show the heart pounding beneath his ribs. “Lord Lamby returned what I lost. I can finally live a normal life now.”

“What in the…” Klunko leans in close to get a good look, causing Bop to lean back on his head as he’s grossed out by the sight.

“I just can’t get away from this stuff, can I?” Shrumy shakes his head, looking both impressed and perturbed at the sight of Ratoo’s exposed heart. Ratoo pulls his robes back up, hiding the grisly sight away.

“I heard about what happened last night.” Ratoo tells them. “I’m sorry for your loss. It’s been a very long time since I last saw Flinky and it pains me to know that I won’t get another chance.”

“We will though.” Ratau says. “We’ll all join him eventually, and Lamby already assured us that he’s waiting patiently for that time.”

Ratoo tilts his head. “Are you alright Ratau? You look a little unwell.”

“Ratau here put down more drinks than the rest of us combined.” Shrumy says, placing a hand on Ratau’s shoulder. “I’m honestly surprised he’s even walking around right now. I wouldn’t be doing anything until four in the afternoon at least if I got as drunk as you did.”

“I have to be a good role model for everyone here.” Ratau chuckles a little. “I may look fine right now, but trust me, I’ve felt like I needed to barf since Lamby started teleporting us around. The moment I get the chance to settle down, I’m barfing my guts out and passing out.”

“Well don’t let us keep you.” Shrumy laughs. “If you and Ratoo call this place home I’m sure we’ll be fine checking the place out on our own, even if it’s some weirdo death cult.”

“Ratoo, you can show us around, can’t you?” Klunko asks. “Let’s let Ratau take a break and sober up a bit more.”

“That’d be great…” Ratau says, trying to take a deep breath to settle himself as his headache continues to bother him. “I’ll see you all again for the sermon in an hour or so. I gotta go lay down for a bit.”

“Take your time.” Shrumy tells him. “If Flinky really is betting on us, you can’t stop taking care of yourself now. Eat something, drink some water, clean yourself up. We’ll meet up again later.”

With everyone’s assurance that they’ll be alright, Ratau takes their advice and starts to make his way home. Though, along the way he spots an outhouse. He really doesn’t want to spill his guts, but he thinks he’d rather get it over with now than trying to hold everything in all day.

Ratau feels leagues better by the time the sermon is wrapped up, though he still dismisses himself to take a walk around the village to clear his head. He was only gone for a day, but he can’t leave the place for one second without people getting into trouble apparently. He should catch up on his chores that he missed out on. His friends are likely exploring the village a little more and he’s sure by the time the sun starts to go down they’ll be down to play some games at his house. He doubts anyone will be drinking tonight.

Though, thinking about hosting another game night, Ratau wonders what Narinder would think of his friends. They’re all worthless mortals in his eyes, but Shrumy at least helped Ratau build up the first village. He didn’t do anything to threaten Narinder’s power, the old lord might actually like Shrumy more than Ratau for the simple fact that he’s never wronged him.

He’s suddenly very eager to introduce the two, but with recent events, maybe that’s not the best idea. Taking a break from his work, Ratau starts to wander towards the edge of the village. The cabin doesn’t look any different, but the curtains are drawn and once he gets close enough he notices the doorknob looks a little warped.

There’s also a very unpleasant smell coming from inside. The closer he got, the air grew heavier with the scent of blood and death. For a moment, Ratau questions if Lamby was being truthful with him when they said that he was alive.

He inches forward, raising his hand to knock on the door, but he’s interrupted before he can.

“I wouldn’t bother him right now.” Ratau turns to find Lamby quickly walking up to him. “I’m not letting him out yet and I don’t think he’s up for conversation at the moment.”

“Why not?” Ratau asks, stepping away from the house just in case. “I think he’d like company if he’s been locked in there all day, even if only through the door.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want you anywhere near him until I’m sure he won’t try to hurt anyone the second he’s out.” Lamby tells him. “He’s after me, but he’s already tried to hurt other people to hurt me once already. After his assassination attempt failed, he might go after you next.”

Ratau wants to argue against that, but he can’t really know for sure. His relationship with Narinder was sketchy and barely tolerated. If Narinder wanted to get back at Lamby hard enough, it’s entirely within his wheelhouse to go after their flock. He was doing so well up until now though…

“What did you do to him?” Ratau asks. “I know he’s no saint, but he’s at least shown restraint until now. I don’t think it’s just him growing opportunistic the moment I left the village, you did something to push him.”

Ratau remembers the first fight he got into with the lord after he came here. Narinder had a very short fuse, but he made it very obvious when you pissed him off. Ratau learned the hard way that pushing things will get you punched in the face or worse. Lamby lit that fuse, and with how violent the reaction was, they did more than just annoy him.

“The Red Crown was hungry.” Lamby says, staring down into the grass instead of facing Ratau directly. “It was through my horror over what he did to me that I learned that I could draw sin from people’s bodies. Narinder’s terrible actions are forcing me to go on my crusades to fix this mess, so the least he could do is offer me strength. Just as I atoned for my horrible actions through self flagellation, I took a whip to him to draw out his regrets and sins too.” Lamby glances up at Ratau hesitantly. “The fact that I drew anything other than blood out of him is proof that you’re right about him, I suppose. He does regret his actions, or at the very least the mistakes that led to him being banished.”

Ratau is left stunned for a moment. “You waited until I was gone to do this?” He asks.

“I…” Lamby lowers their head again. “I can’t keep the crusades up without getting stronger. I will not hurt my flock or prey on them like the other gods did, but no matter what I want or what my ideals are, the crown needs to be fed. It’s why I asked if I could take Flinky the other day. He would have granted me strength, but I didn’t want to go against your wishes and take your friend before you were ready. Narinder is alive. What I did to him, while painful and cruel, may help him in the long run as he’s forced to confront his actions and his feelings surrounding them. It was wrong, and I paid my own price for it.”

Ratau stares Lamby down, feeling anger and disappointment. It wasn’t all directed just at Lamby, but partly at this whole situation they were stuck with in the first place. They were caught between a rock and a hard place. Ratau was never good at making these hard decisions, but he doesn’t have to be ok with the actions Lamby takes or their results.

Lamby was trying their best to do the right thing despite the dark urges they had and the cravings of the crown. Maybe this was the best course of action available. Narinder probably should be whipped into shape, but the fact that Lamby waited until he was gone, that they did this behind his back…

“I told you that you could come to me about anything.” Ratau says, stepping towards Lamby. “I wouldn’t have approved of this, I would have tried to find some other way, maybe I would have given up and let it happen, but you waited until I was gone. You tried to hide this from me.” Ratau sees shame on Lamby’s face, but he isn’t done. “Lamby. Mistrust and lying is exactly what got Narinder into this mess and how he hurt us. If you really want to be better than him, you can’t do this. You can’t lie to your friends and most faithful. You can’t lie to me like he did.”

Ratau sees a pained expression cross Lamby’s face after saying that. It hurts Ratau to tell them that they’re acting no better than the lord who abused their trust, but if they got into this habit, they’d only hurt more people. They wanted to be better than the Old Faith, but they were falling into the same traps all of them must have fallen into.

“I’m sorry…” Lamby shudders, looking almost grief stricken. “I… I won’t let something like this happen again. I… I have to go. I need to make up for this.” Lamby turns to leave, but Ratau quickly runs up to reach out for them.

“Please don’t hurt yourself again, Lamby…” He pleads. “There’s gotta be a better way to feed the crown that doesn’t involve this abuse against you or anyone else.” Ratau glares at the Red Crown on Lamby’s head and while it meets his gaze, it doesn’t respond to his pleas.