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Hi-hii :3

I was writing an essay and ine little thought crossed my mind. It is simple but...

While I was re-reading Two Becomes Five I actually thought of Lamb and Cats(Aym and Baal obviously) hanging out together. Maybe Aym and Baal would know more about current situation in the cult, see some of bright sides of it? Or maybe they could go on a little adventure? I'm not really sire what exactly they would do... I just wanted to see the three of them finally getting along so they could comfort each other ;v;

Firstly, as promised HAPPY BIRTHDAY! and sorry for being a little late on the story. My finals are a bit annoying and you know how it is, but yeah I hope you enjoy the story :)

What More?

Sunlight shimmering amidst the mountain tops, a visage so usual for him. A visage he became familiar with over the course of his long life, a life spent in the halls of their marble home atop the highest peaks.

After all of the years he has spent up here, he had little to complain about their home. Marble halls with followers all around, tending and attending as they came and went and that was that he liked it. In the lands rivaling the clouds, cold but never cold enough to freeze at least for him, the earth around never muddy to be miserable like the lands below.

It was simply a perfect place to live, an idea that most shared alongside his new and really only friend. The friend which was taking entirely too long preparing the picnic basket. Really, how could it even take this long? Also why was she even packing food for him and his brother? It was not like either of them really needed it.

Speaking of his brother, who at the moment was preoccupied looking over the skies from the window of their mutual friend's house.

Looking over the skies with a paw closed to shield his only working eye ‘’The sun is almost up lambchops, it's gonna get too warm in a bit, come on.’’

The ewe he was referring to gave him a roll of the eye before ‘’Aren’t we sheep supposed to rise with the sun, not you divine cats or whatever? Also why do you care if it’s gonna get warm?’’

His brother took only a moment to retort ‘’Ever had a picnic with the sun right above your head lambchops?’’ Without giving enough time for a reply ‘’it ain’t really pleasant.’’

He was sure Lambert would retort back with something, which his brother followed with one of his own. It would go on until they both would get tired of it, and as exciting as that sounded to watch, he decided to just focus on much more interesting things such as the cloudless skies.

Really though, it was slightly strange how clear the skies were for their home. It was an odd occurrence that for some odd reason bothered him, or perhaps what bothered him more was his brother’s insistence of going outside for a picnic today. He couldn’t stop the sigh that forced his way out of him as he gazed at his brother who was currently having an argument/shouting match with Lambert on what constitutes as ‘early hours’ or ‘the correct time to go on a picnic’ was. Really though, why was he so adamant about all this? Going out in the middle of summer for an activity that for all intents and purposes was meaningless to all of them. Lambert didn’t seem to care too deeply where they spent time as long as they were together, he didn’t really care about food so that only really left his brother. Just what pushed him into rousing him from his meditation that early in the morning and got Lambert to prepare for a day out with all the critters and lack of shelter or really any civilization was beyond him. Well there was a reason in mind but… He was almost sure he rose above that sort of childish thing, or really he hoped he moved on from that sort of thinking. He would ask to confirm all this but he looked too busy trying to hoist Lambert on the bookshelf, who for her part was doing a good job resisting him by holding onto his ears while shouting about how she didn’t wanna get stranded up there like last time.

As amusing as their antics were, he really wanted to get this over with as soon as possible so he could maybe salvage the rest of the day and perhaps get some meditation done. Hiding his smirk he made his way out of the door, without looking back ‘’Come on you two. We got things to do after we are done with all this’’ before either of them could retort he added ‘’We can just hunt a pigeon for Aym and you can just chow down on the grass’’ He didn’t bother to look back to see either of their incredulous faces before he made his way out. Most of the paths leading out of their home on the mountains were long and as would be expected, arduous. His brother’s chosen path was no different. Stepping over another sharp rock he wondered, why did he have to choose such a far away place instead of a rooftop or something? He would try to ask that alongside his previous question, if either of his companions would stop their bickering for a moment. ‘’Do I really have to carry you?’’ Came a voice from his brother. He was answered by Lambert who was still holding onto his ears, almost instantaneously ‘’Yes’’ Incredulous ‘’You have two functional legs on top of having hoofs, you should be fine climbing down a little bit’’ Ewe ever the retortful, lifted her left leg while pointing at it with her right arm ‘’Well I would be fine, if ‘someone’ didn’t hurt my hoof earlier’’ Rolling his eyes ‘’that isn’t even the right hoof and I already apologized.’’ Almost pleadingly ‘’So, please?’’  At his words Lambert took a moment to pause in thought, rubbing at her chin before suddenly ‘’No, you gotta carry me.’’ The groan his brother let out could have triggered an avalanche if it wasn’t for the fact that there was no snow at this time of year.

So it was, the three of them, well more like two of them walking along the path his brother set out for them. On a path to a place he didn’t understand why they needed to travel, under the burning sun, all the while wondering what his brother was going with all this. He almost wished their master would call them back for a full temple cleanup or something. Step after step, one over the other. It was slow as it was boring, just seeing the mountain pass grow narrow before widening a moment later. After a moment of thought, he wouldn’t call it boring, not really. It was just monotonous, cliffs leading to stacked stones to more cliffs. Trying to escape from the monotony he tried to focus on his brother and Lambert, maybe they had gone back to their shenanigans that didn’t fail to entertain him. Looking over to their side he saw something he was not really expecting, his brother was pointing at something off in the distance all the while Lambert was just sort of listening? She was still situated on his shoulders but that didn’t seem like it was bothering Aym all too well either. Speaking of his brother, he seemed happy if not at least just more interested than usual? His brother was one for brooding and complaining rather than smiles and laughter like now most of the time. In a way it seemed off, almost like seeing a congregation of priests not shouting over each other in their endless quest to find out which one of them could misinterpret their lord’s message the most. But even though it was odd, it was not unpleasant. His interest felt fresh… It almost reminded him of the back in the days. Shaking the odd decrepit memories away he focused on the sun that seemed like it was oblivion bent on trying to melt him away, all the while trying to ignore an ancient call of the past once so sweet.

*** Sheep wool is something that tends to be soft, perhaps even fluffy if you want to get sweet with it. And as for someone who had a friend who happens to be an ewe, who also happens to have been on top of his shoulders for the better part of a day he was starting to doubt the validity of that claim. Now, in order to break this great misconception he had many options. One, he could ask Lambchops what she thought. Which she would be just confirming the validity of the claim, but since she happens to be a sheep it didn’t seem like her input would be clear of bias.

Two, he could ask his brother who also happens to be friends with a sheep. Then again he would also be pretty biased considering his friendship and a lack of shoulders crushed under an ewe.

This only left him the third option, which is to pick a sheep who might or might not so happen to sit on him and yeet her into the soft grass. Thus testing the softness by comparing the two against one another all the while giving a well deserved comeuppance.

Needlessly to say, the bleat that came out of Lambchops would be worth all the piggyback rides she would demand of him in the near future.

while at it, why not just test how fluffy cat fur tends to be.

The moment he met the grass he knew he was right to choose this place, the grass so soft growing in a patch without any stone. Laying down on the even ground looking up to see the infinite clear blue skies unsullied by the clouds with the grand golden sun peeking just on the side. Closing his eyes and breathing in the fresh air slowly, he could feel peace but just in a moment course through his very being.

Though the peace was not meant for long as he was assaulted by a very aggravated ewe who didn’t seem to like his little test and decided that the best way to get revenge is through throwing herself on his chest before trying to pin him to the ground. He should be trying to stop the angry ball of fluff currently trying to choke him out but really after seeing her ruffled pelt, it was just too much for him to bear without laughing. Still trying to choke him out ‘’You ass! Do you know how much time it took to make up my fur?!’’ Fighting away the laughter ‘’About an hour’’ wiping away a tear ‘’the exact reason why we got here late’’ Incredulous ‘’That's why you throw me into the grass!’’ punching at his chest ‘’You jerk.’’ With the last of the laughter finally making its way out of him ‘’Nah, it was because your rump had gotten my shoulders all sore fluffy butt’’ With one last punch to the chest she moved away from him and begun to walk towards the grass around them, huffing and puffing all the way. It was his brother that spoke first ‘’You done it now’’ Arriving from the side before sitting down on the grass next to him. Calling out to where she was headed to ‘’Come on Lambchops no need to sulk, I was just horsing around’’ She was still moving away, not wanting to see her get lost in the tall grass he knew he had to go that route. With a groan before clearing his throat ‘’Alright I’m sorry Lambchops I’m such a meanie. really a Horrible no good friend and-’’ Stopping on her tracks ‘’Rude and a sore loser at table games'’ His brother butting in before he could refute the last claim which was just slander ‘’Terribly noisy on top of being rather silly’’ With another groan ‘’Alright you two, get it out of your systems all the while little ol’ me suffers this abuse’’ Closing his eyes before putting a paw on his unbeating heart, putting as much theatrics as he could to his fake cries. With a sigh the ewe turned back ‘’I am still angry and you are still a jerk’’

‘’Alright how about a trade’’ He continued as Lambert gave him a look that said keep going ‘’I will carry you back home too, where if you want you can continue to be mad at me, but for now we can just enjoy the picnic’’ It took her a moment, a moment that almost made him think he might need to offer few more trips to make up with her before she sighed again ‘’Fine, I guess I can look past your transgression until home’’ Giving her a smile he set out to take off the bag he was carrying, she sat down to do the same with her back as they set out their little picnic spot. His brother taking off the plates while he handled the picnic blanket, corner of his eyes he saw Lambert and the food she brought for them. He was still iffy on the whole eating food thing, but he knew arguing with Lambchops was futile. So here, they had a picnic. In the sight of the great ocean which was seen stretching across the horizon from one side to the other, with land of the old four encompassing that of their masters. The aerie but yet grand dark forest adding the dark green along the plains of west, to the swamps of Anura adding the hues of yellow on the east with their mysterious yet oddly welcoming splendor. His eye drifted across the land near the ocean after that as his sibling and Lambchops talked of faith and prayer, to the half land and sea of Anchordeep adding the aqua with a touch of turquoise and also its terrifying yet calming aura. All across this land and beneath the lands of Silk Cradle did his ‘home’ encompass, a land and ‘home’ that was all the land in between and perhaps one day even the ones all across the endless ocean. And there it was, the pang. One of guilt and shame with a spark of sadness and hope hidden within. The lands all around, grand and wide and duty called him here to this one he was so used to. Lost in the thought he almost didn’t hear his brother ‘’So Aym, why have thee brought us here?’’ Looking over he saw his brother, sitting down almost in meditation while he lay down with Lambchops somewhere in between. Raising a brow ‘’For the picnic?’’ Rolling his eyes ‘’Why did you pick here for it, that is what I ask brother’’

There it was, the moment he dreaded. He fought the groan as he tried to find a way out of this question that carried one too many traps and no good answers without lie ‘’Well I saw this place while taking a walk and thought your grumpy butt would appreciate going out for once.’’ The look from his brother told him that he didn’t really buy it ‘’I see’’ There was still a chance that this would end here and perhaps his brother could put a cork in it for once, but no luck ‘’I would ask why you are outside of our home but really, it feels like you are barely inside these days’’ The effect was almost instant as he felt the indignation rise within his words, but no. He would not have this conversation again, not here. Not when it should be just the three of them together. ‘’I mean, is it such a bad thing?’’ He almost felt his blood go cold at the words of their companion, oh no. He was gonna have this conversation here wasn’t he? ‘’You know, to just explore?’’ Almost adding more fuel to it now, he had to find a way to silence her before his brother started his tirade. Could he try throwing her again? No that would actually be mean. Maybe he could fake a stomach ache? No, that would be just dumb. Think damn it, think! ‘’Because there is no need for it Lambert’’ His brother spoke, with certainty only he and their master shared. He was facing her but really he knew who he was talking to ‘’There is no need because this is our home, everywhere else outside of our care’’ Before he could stop himself ‘’I wouldn’t be so sure’’ Damn him to oblivion, damn it all. He was doomed anyway. Why stop now? ‘’There is much to see and le-’’ ‘’What more-‘’ Breathing in deep before letting it out he waited for him to finish ‘’-do you even need? To see and learn brother of mine’’ ‘’Well I would like to see the ocean a little closer for once’’ Humour, that had to work. That had to at least get him not to say what he was surely going to say next. ‘’There are enough rivers with enough water brother.’’ with a sight so deep with a tinge of disappointment ‘’I thought master got rid of all this stupid ideas out of you back th-’’ In a moment a shout that reverberated across the mountain side ‘’Just because you wanna stay here forever like some damn critter in a cage doesn’t mean I wanna!’’ One much colder yet still a shout ‘’This is our home!’’ Now yet colder than the hardest winters of their ‘home’ ‘’I don’t think you remember how it was before all this.’’

In a moment his anger boiled and in a moment it all froze, like that of the river they found so long ago freezing that one winter ‘’Home? Is that what you see it like?’’ His voice but a whisper ‘’This prison?’’ His eye met his brothers, bearing nothing but contempt ‘’No brother, Home was with mother, and back then this whole land was our home. Not some old church on a mountain.’’ ‘’You know, it is not such a bad place’’ a voice meek but with purpose and conviction. She looked below, not meeting either of their eyes ‘’It’s not really a prison, at least not one without good within.’’ Before he could control himself ‘’And that good is?’’ She met his eyes in a moment ‘’You two for a start.’’ With a smile pained but not without warmth. Continuing with a tinge of fervor ‘’And the people are not too bad’’ looking over to the side ‘’yeah some of the priests are mean and some people are a bit zealous and perhaps misguided in their love of our Lord.’’ Her eyes met his once more ‘’But I still think there are still some good, there are priests that help feed the poor and teach the children how to pray and the people with smiles and love within.’’ taking a moment before continuing ‘’Then there is our Lord’’ He felt a moment of shame bubble within at the mention of their Master. Now looking to the horizon ‘’But, it is still beautiful out there too you know’’ Trying to meet her gaze to the infinite blue ‘’There are trees of tall, with birds of plenty dancing across the skies and on the fields’’ He saw plenty of those back then, fun chasing them around with a certain cat clad in white ‘’Rivers with ponds that stretch so far, with villages of sheep and goat’’ now almost ruefully ‘’There are many lamb and other with dreams so different to that of here’’ Now looking at his brother ‘’So I guess what I am saying is that, it is good outside too. It is worth it to see and learn’’ His brother didn’t match his eyes before a sigh ‘’I am sorry’’ It was but barely a whisper ‘’I shouldn’t have mentioned our past like that, to use that against you’’ slowly looking up to meet his eyes ‘’I shouldn’t judge you for wanting to leave even if I don’t really get why’’ Now it was his turn ‘’I am sorry too’’ It was hard making out the next words ‘’I don’t think it is a prison you know… It's just’’ a sigh before continuing ‘’It’s just so suffecting and the land outside so so damn beautiful’’ 

With a snort ‘’Yeah, I suppose the ocean is not so bad’’ As they sat in a more comfortable silence for a moment he smiled, Maybe the day didn’t need to be ruined just yet. Looking to meet the ewe that saved their picnic and really the whole day she saw her smile in full. A small laughter came from her lips before ‘’I believe my expert input to this discussion should be rewarded with an extra ride on your shoulders’’ He couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped him before going for a tackle hug on the ewe currently on the ground laughing alongside him and Baal ‘’You damn little ewe’’ trying to get the ewe to stop going for his ears he thought, ‘Maybe one day, maybe one day he would get to see the outside but today was fine here’

Shasha

Sooooo fourth in the saga. Where we get to see the big spider in the spotlight for the first time since the series start. I am so proud of the old Spider with reallly sharp claws who finally gets to gets to have the stage.

As you might have guessed this chapter is about Shamura and how they went about the ‘joining the traitor’ business.

As usual the link to AO3 is down below if you all wish to read it there. (:

Seen Things that are yet to happen.

Precognition, a window to the future, a look to the will be.

A gift one may call it just as they had done it before now. Long before the accursed day they had peered to a future they wish they had not.

They wanted to call it a curse after seeing the horrors that awaited them. A curse that showed them what would be without a shadow of a doubt.

But yet they couldn’t call it a curse even if they wanted to, for they did not make that future take place but have instead just peered into the ugly truth of what awaited them. So they called it a call for action instead, a call that would not go unanswered.

But yet still, even with the truth of their ability and their need to take action. A part of them still yearned for what their siblings had, the sweet ignorance. But as always even a single fragment of the terrible truth of the future wiped that simple childish wish.

They could not remember every detail of those foggy visions. There was blood, so much and so dark. Spilling against the fair stone of the mountains carved into a temple for death and the dead.

There would be they and their siblings with only them amidst in the pool of their own ichor. before them there would be their dearest. The first sibling they called their own with a blade responsible for this atrocity extended towards their throat.

This is the fate they saw many moons ago befalling them and their most loved.

In the end they knew, they knew no vision of theirs would come false. But they had to try, even if they knew it was futile.

Lost in thought as usual, it took them a moment to realize where they were again. They sighed as they grabbed the railings tightly, grounding themselves against the allure of the terrible visage.

There was a time when their ability was spoken with much splendor, where they would be happy to receive a look into the future. Alas, those days had passed just like the autumn but a month prior.

Shaking their head from side to side, they looked below to their cult and realm, trying to clear their mind. It was, as it always has been dark as far as the eye could see in the low underground tunnels of their home. With only the light of the graceful moon shining above the cracks and fissures aided with the luminescent mushrooms that littered their domain helping carve away the abyss.

It was comfortable to look upon once, to see the unjudging dark enveloping their land. But that was before they had seen their vision, that was before they had learned that the dark did indeed judge. Just in a way none could understand until one was troubled so greatly as they…

Ignoring the dark they focused on the once soothing cold of winter, dulling one’s senses just enough to ignore the pain be it physical or even mental. It gave them much respite once, but now just like the darkness it only elevated their frustration.

Even with all of that, such trivial things as dark or cold could really affect a God even with their new found strength with their frustrations. No, Shamura was not one that was to be bested. Still even with their pride still sung within their heart and a cloak most well, it could not stop the shiver that spawned from their very heart.

Bringing their cloak closer and their eyes away from the dark, they decided that this much night air was more than good enough. With a yawn that came almost naturally they took off to their chambers, they needed rest as expected.

Arriving at Their chambers was simple enough, really the balcony was right outside. Not bothering to disrobe they quickly made their way to their bed, they would not wear them tomorrow anyhow and it was not as if they had no other robes they could use.

Sliding into the sheets, comforting silk met their body, warm and unrestricting. Almost as if on the clouds themselves they wrapped it around themselves and as snug wool pillows met their head they were ensured that it would be a dreamless night.

Now to sleep… . . .

After the thousand turn and toss they quickly choose to retract their claim of a quick night’s rest. Indeed, they had a feeling it would be rather the opposite for whatever reason.

Opening their eyes they began to gaze outwards around, if they were stuck tossing and turning maybe putting that mind of theirs to some use would help them tire themselves out.

First that met their gaze was the room they were in. It was as expected, not some grand and lavish room meant for a particularly pompous king or a queen. But a spartan living quarters that could belong to anyone… that was their size of course and barring the bedding itself as it would be unrealistic of anyone to assume they should sleep upon anything but silk and wool. They were in favor of utilitarian living, not ascetic ‘living’ if it could even be called that.

Really did anyone even wish to live in such… And here they were, instead of sleeping they were just wasting their mind on something like this, there was no way this could tire them out.

They rolled their eyes as they tried to bury themselves further into their now much colder sheets that seemed to strangle their throat as opposed to their previous unrestricting nature.

Trying to loosen the fabric they try to put their back towards the wool pillow which seems to bring a strange ache to their head as they sink into the soft material in the least comfortable way. With a cry of frustration they free themselves after tearing the silk away with their claws.

Breathing in and out, as deep as it could go and out as slow as they can manage. They slowly focus back to their bedding which now stood ruined.

For a moment they couldn’t help but to regret their quick action caused by frustration but then again, surely it was better that they were free than if they had stayed and simply let themselves get buried.

After all, they did not make mistakes. This was the better option.

With a sigh they get up from the bed, it turns out they were not tired enough. Surely it should be expected that they would have much more energy than a mortal, they simply needed to stay awake further to tire themselves enough. ‘What better way than to inspect the preparations’ they thought as they tossed the ruined pieces of silk to the corner of the chamber.

 Walking out of their chambers to their temple they took in to walk back to see and confirm all was according to the plan, they needed to be perfect for tomorrow. All needed to be perfect; they had to be ready for war tomorrow against the… traitor.

They stopped momentarily at the thought. They sighed, It was still a hard idea to accept, their brother being a traitor. A heretic that had casted their teachings and has gone to his own path for whatever misbegotten reason.

They could still remember the day when one of their followers came to them with the grim news. Their brother, the traitor had esca- left their temple at the dead of night. They could still remember the sheer disbelief they had felt, the way they had searched every corner of their own temple to make sure he had left them even while knowing full well they had run off.

It was unexpected, it was rage inducing, It was… heartbreaking. To hear him leave them with not even the courage to come to them first. Their claw tightened at the sheer audacity their brother had shown with just the start of his little rebellion.

Surely however, what had made their descent into heresy worse was their next actions. The way they had taken the followers of all four of them to their rank with false promises, the way they had marched them to the tallest mountains to claim superiority above them all, the way they had forgotten them all as he had closed his temple to all, forever casting them away.

Their claw loosened, swallowing the small lump in their throat they continued their walk. ‘No matter’ they thought, no matter what slight was done against them, it would be paid back soon enough. After all, it was as expected.

In a short while they found themselves at their first stop, the armory. The forges where the war would take shape first. Where the bellows infinitely churned the tools necessary for their art, a place most holy for them and their followers.

Blades of many with axes to follow. All spears put neat and well with all arrows heads casted to perfection. A certain smile found their way to their lips as they couldn’t help but be pleased with the simple, brutal but yet effective artistry at work.

All made so well against the fires of the forges, still pulsing with heat that bellowed from within the eternal stone, beating against the venerable steel. Craftsmanship unfound in anywhere else…

Wait. Stopping their stroll through the sets they took upon a closer inspection, which showed many weaknesses once not seen. Some bent where it should be straight and vice versa, all showing wear and tear from past battles unworked in the forge. While some showed even rust where it would prove deadly only to the user of what should be venerable steel.

How were they supposed to wage war with these? They would not be going against the steel of a mere rival God, but the traitor’s army. They would be going to slaughter if they tried to. Just who gave them the orders to make these abominations?

How had this come to be? Who was responsible for all of this? Setting out to find a blacksmith was not so hard as they were already passing by even when they were doing their inspection.

At first it was nothing out of the ordinary until they had realized that The blacksmiths were not of their lot but that of Heket, if they could be called as such.

Following the blacksmith to their workshop they were even more revolted at the sight they had seen.

They saw the blacksmiths milling about instead of working to keep the forges going. Blunt swords and bent shields somehow considered fit to be used, bits of casted metal around with rust clinging to them greeted them.

All with flaws unworked on with the idea of them being ‘good enough’.

Outraged by the sheer audacity committed by these cretin they could almost feel their teeth grind against one another. Just what was their sister thinking? It was obviously their order which has set them in their current way, made them forge these monstrosities.

Then again, this is what could be expected of her wasn’t it. They felt the thought worm their way into their mind further and further as they stood in awe at sight in front of them.

Their sister was always of good enoughs and never of perfection was she? In a normal time of lackadaisical days maybe they could be looked past with only a slight show of unapproval. But here, now? In a time when they needed more than just ‘good enough’?

Unacceptable.

Laziness, the lack of drive, unwillingness to better one’s self, these were the only ways to describe her were they not?

Couldn’t she prove herself to them with more than just good enough just once?

They groaned as they bit down harder and harder. There were a lot of things she would have to prove if she were to ever take her place as their right hand. A lot of things indeed.

Yet, they could not bring themselves to be too disappointed in her. Yes she has shown her unreliability once more, but still there would be more times where she could prove herself to them.

It would be fixed alright. Fetching their own blacksmiths and letting them correct the mistakes was not hard. Before long sounds of metal beating against iron sounded across the temple.

With that taken care of they could finally feel their teeth relax as they sighed with a ghost of a smile, everything the way they were meant to be.

They could see it now even in a small vision. All steel in the hands of the warriors of theirs. Clashing against the heretic, though details were somewhat odd frankly…

Chasing away the doubt much like the warriors from their vision, they continued. There was much to attend. No reason to get stuck on things that do not matter.

Next stop was the Barracks, the path to the barracks was not a long from the armory as expected. In any invasion of any kind it was a needed feature. Though that had never come to pass, it paid to be ready.

Maybe like right now…

Shaking their head they tried to clear the absurd thought away, there was no way he could have figured out what was to be their fate. Even if they knew, they would have mounted an offensive right now.

They knew he was competent, much more than competent at times even and reached the perfection they were known for. As befitting of their once right hand, one did not reach such a position without some skill.

But it was irrelevant as he was no longer their right hand, nor did he know their plans. He was to be caught without defence and… brought to justice.

With thoughts stirring in their head they almost did not notice as they entered the barracks. It was a large part of the temple, it was spartan as furniture went as well as luxury. It was not expected from a warrior to need much other than arm and armor after all.

They saw rows after rows of neat armor meant to be worn under cloak, all straps holding the elegant and yet so effective armor, the expertise that would go unseen in battle, unnoticed almost. Much like their sister almost in their court.

At least, It was satisfying to see that here their warriors would remain unchallenged, they thought. Their warrior’s needed the gear to survive what was to come, they each needed to be protected amidst what they were to face.

But before they could be on their way back to their inspection something caught their eye. It was almost unnoticeable amidst all the others, but in a moment that had them look around the armor stands they noticed that it was all wrong

The straps were too large for even a beast and the armor, it almost looked like it was not even connected together.

On Top of all that, they all showed oddities that would prove too chaotic for any kind of planning. They were strange creations that could never fit in a battlefield, armor that bent like sheets of paper with helmets too long to make sense.

Looking at the others it told a similar tale. All different than each other in ways that made them all more strange than unique.

Their claw flew in a moment over one of the armor sets, and as expected it couldn’t take a single hit with all the unnecessary additions more or less bolted on.

Their eyes twitched as they discarded the broken piece of useless steel and leather. How could their soldiers wage war if their equipment was this strange?

All haphazard, all chaotic…

They didn’t need to guess too long after that to know who was responsible for all of this. Their youngest, Leshy.

Their brother was a being of Chaos, that much was true and expected. They would be a hypocrite if they could ask their brother to stop their ways, their very nature when they themselves were known for their ferocity at times. But yet, in such a time where they could not afford even the slightest deviation from their visions could spell doom for them?

Apathy was the only way to explain how their brother could think to take such action. It was the sheer disregard their brother could show when he found things that he showed no interest towards.

Was this just a joke for the worm? Was their fate and the fate of The Old Faith just a game for him?

Their digits groaned under the pressure as their claws clenched. There were many things they wished to get their hands on at that moment. Maybe to finally show their youngest at least the concept of respect with it.

Yet, they could not bring themselves to blame them too harshly. Indeed they had done a great wrong with their casual dismissal of their own order and instead letting his own armorers run wild, but it could be fixed.

Waking the armorers was much like waking the blacksmiths, a single order given to a passing follower and in a few short moments before the clang of steel and fastening of leather rang out from the workshops dulling out the headache they were subjected to.

Each one they would meticulously check, test if need be. If they will fail them here, then how are they supposed to not fail against their br- the traitor?

After what felt like hours examining the strap that held each armor, they were finally satisfied or as close as they could get. All armor polished and readied for use by all kinds of followers and beast alike. None could truly withstand a God surely, but this was… acceptable, for now.

As they were leaving they decided to just peek into the future of the armor and saw that it was as they predicted. Armor would not protect against a God but it would protect against his forces.

A blow from a sword of a warrior grazing against a pauldron before being met with righteous teeth… wait, teeth?

They almost stumbled before straightening themselves against the cold stone pillars. They felt their head ache at the vision. Why was their sight so murky today? They could barely gaze a moment into the future and it was all muddled to oblivion. Was their precognition fail-. No, that was not possible.

Shaking their head they carried on, there was no need to doubt themselves. Their vision was true as always, as expected.

It was true, they were sure of it.

Besides, has their vision ever failed them before? It had not failed when they were attacked by their rival Gods, it had not failed when they saw the coming of their siblings from the stars above. It had not failed when it showed them their brother’s soon treachery. Though sometimes they wish it had failed at least this once.

Without even meaning to, they stumbled upon the arena. Where one met warrior against warrior, where one found themselves in their perfect selves as they showed them what truly was beneath their simple mortal coils.

Truly a place that would bring an end to their worries, well it was not worries per say but simple concerns.

Warriors each with a sword to call their own, battling with precision and elegance. Each strike thought with reason, unlike that of a beast that only relies upon rage and instinct.

Sparks flying in all directions as the swords clash against the other with shields blocking the next. The footwork to avoid each quick jab… dodging away from hits instead of fighting back…

Taken aback for a moment, looking around some more a similar tale followed, each warrior instead of standing their ground just gave away in a cowardly display. How were these warriors supposed to hold the line and push back when they fought like cowards?

It took them no time to single out the one that found themselves on the ground, who looked unashamed at such a shameless display of failure. picking themselves up and carrying on as if they had not just brought disgrace to all. It was almost like seeing their brother again at his first sacrifice.

Still trying to surpass the awful memory, few of the six eyes she had twitched as they felt their claw squeeze against their palm. How were they this unabashed? It was so insulting. Were they just doing it on purpose? did they simply do it to annoy them?

Unclenching their palm they looked upon the warrior that failed them. He was a young one, with mandibles of blue and eyes of turquoise. Moving towards him it took him a moment to realize he was facing the eldest of The Old Faith. It took him another moment to realize his body was high on the air as they took them by their training gear.

Entering the mind of the would be follower was easy, seeing where they got these notions of cowardice was also easy, almost unneeded.

It was none other than their cowardly brother who had thought them.

It took much of them to not crush the little crab in their grasp as they begged and wept, not because of the cowardice but for the show they had put on with their tears. Each moment reminding them of the day where they knew their second youngest would bring much dishonor to them in the coming time.

Maybe against their better judgement they let go of the mewling welp.

Tossing the now terrified creature full of tears that reminded them too much of their cowardly brother. They set out to fix the wrong they saw, they would show this arena what was true battle. Even if it would take the remaining part of their night they would make sure such traitors nor weaklings would dare ruin their plans.

After what felt like eternity they left the arena. They were to say the least, tired. The training took more off of them they would like to admit, not because the warriors were able to match them but because they were unable to.

It was infuriating to unteach the notions of dodging instead of answering a strike with a riposte, or how to keep their footing when attacked instead of relenting.

Even at the end of their lecture they still couldn’t do as they wished, as they perhaps needed but it was close enough, and it would be enough.

It would be enough even if the idea of ‘good enough’ gave them much disgust.

They didn’t even need to gaze to the future to know that would be more than enough. Why would they when they knew it was going to go as expected? It was simply a waste of time.

Besides, their brother would not have raised an army to match theirs yet alone all three even if they were subpar… Then again their brother was not unlike them when it came to battle now were they?

No, perhaps not.

They felt the door to their chamber before they could see it. One claw rubbing the spot on their head and with the other throwing the door open they entered.

It was as they left it, with the blankets still torn asunder. With a sigh that came from deep within they slowly made their way to their bed.

Even without the blanket, it was still comfortable. Though the wood of the frame groaning under their weight was not really pleasant. Also the strange wetness of the pillow was… odd. coupled that with the odd sting in their eyes…

Rubbing at their eyes they looked up, staring at the ceiling of their chamber.

Just why?

Why was nothing going the way it was supposed to be going?

Nothing was as expected and all was just…

Wrong.

Nothing they did felt like it was good enough anymore. Each part of their preparations felt worse than the last, the weapons were still subpar, the armors were falling apart, their warriors couldn’t even hold a sword correctly.

How could their followers… No, their siblings fail them so badly?

As the frustration crept within once more they started to remember the better days, the days before it was so much more perfect. Their warriors were trained by them personally, their armor and arms were done to their specifications. It was all just perfect.

From their own followers to their siblings, they were all just failing them. One by one they were refusing their vision, each giving away excuses for their faults and never accepting blame.

Their follower’s at least had a semblance of competence within, but their siblings? They all just failed them. They each failed them in so many damnable ways.

They just wished Narinder was with them…

Taking a second to part their claws away from their head they looked above to the roof of their chamber. They blinked as they let the idea sink down further and further.

They wish they were with him now, instead of their brothers and sister they wished that Narinder was with them where everything would be easier. His blacksmiths would cast the greatest steel made to perfect the art of death. His armorers assemble the most impeccable armor to stop the coming of death for just a little longer in battle. His Soldiers, the ones that fight with no fear of their lord’s embrace as they march to their assured deaths.

Everything would have been easier.

It would be… perfect.

They wished for him to be back with them, things to go back the way they used to be before all this… mess.

Their mandibles quivered as a lonely drop of ichor found its way off their eye. They wished for so many things, so many things that felt so distant now. They wished for things to return to the way they used to be. Alas just as much as death couldn’t flow backwards, just as much as how they couldn’t undo their mistakes…

Another drop escaped them, It was their mistake was it not? It was surely their mistake of showing him the ideas of evolving when his domain should never have such ideals utilized.

They still could remember the conversation that led to that, could still remember how they were saddened for he could not create like the rest of them.

He had come to them as usual when this ancient sadness came again to the forefront of his mind, invading his senses. The sadness that fattened with each new sibling who could change unlike him.

It was easy back then, just to assure him of his place within the cult made of only the two of them. That they would change and he would stay the way he was, an equal balance set in a dance of two. Upset with the coming of more.

They did not wish to remember the way they looked upon them with his three eyes that shone the way they did when they first came to their world in a comet screaming through the skies. The way he looked so unsure, so unhappy as he had when he found the lacking of his domain.

They had assured him that he was just as important, assure them that creation was not any lesser than destruction, assure them that their siblings were not looking down on their second leader just because all that he was.

They wish it worked, they wish he just backed down and smiled back as he accepted his place. That he would just apologize for bothering them again, and that they could assure them that he had not bothered them at all.

However, that's not what happened.

He just stopped. He just looked within their eyes and claimed that maybe he should just… go. That he should just embrace it instead, embrace oblivion and destruction. Tell them that the Lord of Death should have no business with the living world.

As they saw the will within his eyes, they knew they were serious. He would leave them alone, he would reach his realm and forever bar the gates to stop them. He would leave them, their first brother, their first little headache that caused so much upheaval in their life.

They were weak in the end. The way their heart broke with his, as they couldn’t imagine a future without him by their side.

So they did it, they told him of change. They told him they could become different, evolve and become something he wished. So they could perhaps create in their own way.

As his smile grew with the idea of this new novelty, so did theirs fell as they saw the future that they charted for the whole of The Old Faith with just those simple words.

‘’So try brother. For my domain is knowledge and it is ever evolving, so can yours maybe.’’

The words spoken so long ago now felt like a curse that broke them down with each letter. They hated it, they hated every moment of that cursed memory and they hated themselves for all that came to be after that.

They were sure of it.

Shuffling up the mountains so far high, it was like a blur under the grayed out skies blending with the snow covered mountain.

Each begrudging and tiresome step after another taken with only vitriol to fuel it. The snow under their feet sinking down as it gets muddied more and more with each step taken behind them as untold warriors made their way up the mountain.

They had to give it to their brother, he had made sure every step of the way would be more painful than the one before. It was already hard marching an army up a mountain but one with snow on top? It would sap the strength out of their troops even before they would reach their destination.

As expected, most clever of their brother.

Still, they marched on. With all four armies combined they trudged through the mountain even as mud claimed more and more of their ranks as they sank down into it, before ever getting to taste battle breathing their last breath under the earth.

They should curse their brother for such cruelty, to steal them away to his realm before they could even test their mettle.

Alas they could only find an inkling of pride where there should be rage.

Eventually they reached the gates of the temple, manned by ram and ewe alike with odd species of all kinds amidst their ranks. All with weapons edged to perfection and armor to match, standing together as one, where theirs stood divided.

It took them much time to breach the gates, their warriors dying by the hundreds at the forefront as the lots of their siblings filled the ranks after them. Their warriors meeting their end to the onslaught just so that their sibling’s lot could stand a chance.

They should be howling in rage as the now mindless horde of fanatics led by their siblings fight against the honorable heretics of their brother. They should take apart the heretics who fought against the horde of teeth and claws with their swords and shields.

But they could only share a ghost of a smile in their lips as they stood unmoved. Yet again pride bloomed within as they marched on with only lethargy and perhaps apathy keeping them company.

Then they came to the last hurdle, perhaps the last heretic still able to hold a blade against them. With many broken bodies of their own warriors beneath his feet and the lot of Kallamar watching from far away, cowering behind their shields as they looked upon the wolf.

Melvin stood alone, his curved blade from lands so far away in their hands as they stood in front of the gate they had no chance to bar them against. There he stood, silent with only judgement within his eyes and perhaps even disgust.

They should be enraged by the sheer notion of judging them when he was but an insect where he stood. How could he even wish to criticize a god?

However yet again, they couldn’t help but be proud of their brother for having a witness with faith this strong when their end was so assured. They could even believe the old mutt felt no fear within his heart as they manned the gate of their Lord.

They almost found themselves asking him to move aside, to tell him he would be allowed to come with them once they take his brother back to the fold. To serve him once they claim back their brother away from his folly. But his gaze filled with nothing but fury told them, he would not listen.

They wish they could say he put up a fight. That he fought with valor befitting of a warrior, but no. For a moment he stood valiant and in the other he stood impaled against their youngest’s claws. Played like a toy, as they dangled uselessly in Leshy’s still apathetic grasp as he flexed his claws with boredom written in his face.

With shame plastered against his still face he uttered words that were only heard by their brother. Who looked on from his throne with only sorrow, his body almost like a statue sitting with their scythe by their side.

There was no need for words, they knew what was to happen. Their brother would fight against them when they had only wanted him back, he would wound each one of them until only they and he would stand where they would see what would follow soon enough.

Yet they still spoke, not because they knew it would change anything but because they felt almost an obligation to him to at least try.

 With a heavy heart full of sorrow ‘’Brother’’ It was hard to make up the words as they gazed upon the near empty eyes with a similar pain behind them ‘’Your folly comes to an end, resist no more and come wit-’’

They were cut by a laughter, one so empty that came from him ‘’Why?’’ Before they could ask what he meant by his question ‘’Why are you here? Why are you slaughtering my followers? When I left for there to be no more bloodshed, why have you followed me here?’’ There it was, within his eyes a spark that could not be killed so easily. One that would ignite the battle that was sure to follow.

The answer so simple, yet so hard to make him understand ‘’I… my visi-’’

They were cut once more, now with much more vitriol ‘’Oh so it was your delusions yet again’’ his words, an offense that would be punished swiftly even if he were the one to commit back on the lackadaisical days of yore.

Now only silence followed his words before they could muster the strength once more ‘’Brot- Narinder I…’’ They couldn’t finish their words. How could they? How could they even begin to explain their rightful reasoning, that their actions were just. How could they make him see?

‘’Whatever, I am done fighting.’’ He looked below to his hands as they clenched before with a sigh ‘’I am done with seeing my followers get slaughtered. I will come with you if you spare whoever is left.’’

They were stunned into silence with the end of their sentence. In a moment their sorrow was replaced with joy they thought they could never feel again. Could the fate they foresaw be avoided? Have their visions truly been falsehoods? But before they could rejoice at the fact that their vision would not come to pass, they were horrified at the idea that they were wrong.

They were… wrong. How could they be wrong? Were they wrong in all their visions, all of this preparation, all the events that led to this moment could have been changed?

Have they truly failed their brother? Could they have spared him the misery they caused, could they have averted hurting Nari so easily?

Too lost in their own mind, unable to even notice the world around themselves. They could only hear Hekets axe as it flew at their brother to be countered at the last moment with his scythe.

In a moment their world was shifted once more as their two siblings began to fight, one so full of rage the other so confused. They tried to find their tongue before Heket spoke between each of her hits.

With full of indignation ‘’Liar! you just wish to take back your spot. Well I am not letting you take back my rightful spot, where I deserve to be!’’ She swung fast and well just to be thwarted each time as he looked at her somewhere between furious and confused.

They looked at their sister as they continued their attack towards their brother. Why was she doing that? He already gave up, they could have just gone home, they could have…

Before they could finish the thought Leshy joined his sister as he swung his warhammer. Almost taking both of them down with one mighty and uncontrolled swing meant for both and neither.  

Now with a smile that reached his branches ‘’Sorry brother but this is too much fun to pass up on, hope you don’t mind’’ His words fell with laughter as he continued his onslaught of wild swings, Narinder looked at their youngest with frustration written on his face.

Few moments later, surprisingly they saw Kallamar find himself in combat alongside them. Coming from the outskirts of the battle to try their luck with an opportunistic strike, giving themselves room to dodge if need be.

‘’He is just lying! He is waiting to attack us when he gains our trust again!’’

They looked on the travesty in front of them, this dishonorable battle where three fought against one. Where chivalry and honor was tossed away by all three combatants that made a mockery of war and battle. Where the three threw away the one chance of them all going back to the days of old for their petty little reasons.

They were calm for a moment, a moment where they saw all three of their siblings. Heket who still could not land a hit where it was almost impossible not to, Leshy who still couldn’t take the battle seriously even where his life depended on it, Kallamar who was still acting like a coward where they were three against one.

That moment passed with howl of rage the likes of which had not been heard for centuries. One that shook the core of the temple they were standing in. One that stopped their fight for one moment as they looked upon a true God of War devoid of wisdom, before the beast threw themselves amidst the fight.

Claws and teeth followed them, one guided by instinct rather than true combat prowess. A cut here, a slash there with warm and cold vitae and ichor of many.

In a moment came a blur of green where their claws reached and plucked something off from, the blur fell with scream so delicious against their ears. Then a blur of red and some yellow, there they took something red and some white that too fell but now with a thud and a gurgle. There came a scream from the blue blur, that was quieted with a bite to the parts that stick away from it as they rolled away.

In the end there was only a blur of white, they couldn’t take anything from that one. No matter what they did, all they could do was a measly slash against their middle that saw the spilling of crimson, that was answered with an intense pain that radiated from their head.

Then the blur stopped, now even harder to see. All the ones they took from were on the ground now with much red all around. While the one clad in white and red stood above them, with something poking against their throat.

Had they seen this before? It felt like… Deja Vu? Was that the word… They could ask their siblings if they knew. Maybe Nari knew something about it.  

Where was he anyway? Where was their little furball? They called out as softly as they could manage, to not scare their baby brother of course ‘’Nari… where are you…?’’ For a moment the blur grew still ‘’I need you’’ Words fell slowly away from them as the odd sensation grew in their head.

Tentatively, the white and red blur lowered himself to their level, there he stood. They could almost make an image through the haze which looked like a cat with three eyes just like their little brother. They smiled as they felt arms around their body, giving them an embrace.

There it was, their brother’s voice. Though why was it so tired? ‘’Shhh it's alright Shasha’’ They felt cold fingers find the pain radiating out of their skull, soothing the pain slightly as he whispered ‘’it's… it’s all gonna be alright.’’ He gave a pause ‘’I promise’’ They were happy their brother had come to help them. As expected of their little brother, always so faithful.

They were so lucky they had a sibling.

They wish they had more siblings.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/116636956

My Lot

 Alright, this is a short story I wrote from a request I got from Discord. It is about an interaction between their OC and the whole Bishop gang, told from sort of the point of view of Heket. It is sort of a sweet story, well as sweet as I tend to make my stories but I am sure there is enough fluf and angst for both sides here.

Oh and as usual the Ao3 link is down there if you all wanna read it there. (:

It was a quick affair, a simple chant uttered before the knife met the flesh. Simple and efficient, a rush of faith and strength washing over before pooling over one’s core. Normally, not a single thing that should go wrong barring the odd last moment regrets or a particularly unwilling sacrifice causing a ruckus that would be dealt in but a moment.

Or it should have been but somehow, someway now they were stuck deciding what to do with a newborn rabbit.

Trying to dull out the absurdity of their situation she rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus on what was being said in front of her to take her attention away. As expected her siblings were talking endlessly about how to proceed without coming to a conclusion.

To think they came to this moment just because of a sacrifice their chaotic little brother chose from her lot, who happened to be pregnant. Then the said follower giving birth just before getting sacrificed instead of passing away with the child to save them the trouble.

Well At the very least the she rabbit had relented quickly and without causing further trouble she thought, which was probably the only silver lining to their current situation.

All these strange and totally not planned incidents led them to this very moment. Instead of attending to their lot and perhaps changing their bandages or really anything than to waste their time here. Instead they had to sit around and speak on a subject so benign it should be left for their respective witnesses to deal with it.

Groaning softly against her arm, she looked around lazily. She would curse at her once follower, but in all honestly their chaotic brother was more at blame for their predicament than the obedient but perhaps unwilling follower. The very same brother who was snickering as he was watching their siblings argue from the side.

If she could hear her own voice over the shouts coming from Kallamar arguing with their eldest, she would be giving the bush worm a piece of her mind. However, that would have to wait. For now.

With a sigh she once again tried to pay attention to their conversation.

A shrill voice belonging to Kallamar rang out ‘’I am telling you, this will not end well!’’ Rolling her eyes at their second youngest’s antics she focused on their eldest instead.

Running a claw over their face and with a much calmer but obviously strained voice Shamura spoke ‘’My venerable Brother, can you explain to us how an infant is to cause any harm to us?’’

Pointing at the infant in question who was currently babbling in her basket ‘’It is obviously going to try to hunt us down when it is older! Can't you see it?’’ Looking at the rabbit that was smaller than a single finger of her she normally would have laughed at the suggestion coming from their brother. How could a mortal even hope to do that? Alas, she couldn’t make her amusement known due to… the injuries.

Great she thought, now she was conscious about her throat on top of being bored out of her mind.

Lost in the thought and desperately trying to stop the creeping pain she almost couldn’t hear the cries coming from the newborn. It was shrill noise as expected, reverberating against the stone temple walls and echoing back to them.

She had to give it to her, she had good lungs, but yet it was rather futile. Desperately crying out for someone that could not come to her aid was just a waste of time. No use spilling tears when it got you no results.

Now only if their brother could figure that out she thought, now with a smirk she could almost ignore the continued wailing. Almost.

Looking at her siblings she didn’t see any reaction from any one of them at the sobs coming from the newborn. Kallamar was still complaining as he tended to, Shamura was still trying to speak some sense into him with limited success and Leshy was just being Leshy.

With a deeper than usual sigh she moved her hand to the infant. She did not know much about child rearing but she did know that she was probably just hungry. It was her domain afterall.

It didn’t take much of her power to satiate the little thing, but slightly more than she thought it should have been. Suddenly her smirk grew into a smile for some odd reason, and before she could stop herself words fell off her mouth ‘’Ravenous little thing ain’t you?’’

It was strange finding fondness in her own voice in that moment, then again anything but a raspy hoarse noise was hard to hear out of her these days.

Lost in thought she didn’t hear her siblings until she felt Shamura’s hand on her shoulder. It took her a moment to realize what was happening as she turned her head back to face their eldest. She was met with Their four eyes looking at her expectedly.

Her usual quite heart pounding in its place it took her a moment to get her senses back enough to ask them ‘’U-um yes my eldest?’’ Her words fumbled slightly as she tried to address them properly.

They sighed before retreating their claw back ‘’I had asked you your opinion on the matter’’ She blinked at his words, all four opening and closing blankly. Right, she was still here and was supposed to add her own opinion.

What could she even really add to the conversation though? She didn’t really share their brother’s ideas of sacrificing the newborn for some odd paranoid reason felt… cruel.

Which as strange as it sounded didn’t really sit well with her. Gathering her thoughts she spoke carefully ’’I suppose we can entrust her with another follower?’’ It made sense to her, why bother with all this talk instead of letting the little nuisance be taken care of instead.

They shook their heads slowly ‘’No, we cannot do that.’’ they continued after a pause ‘’The family that would receive the child would see it as a boon we are bestowing with at best, which would upset the rest of the followers or perhaps be seen as a burden we are punishing with.’’

Right she supposed she did not really think about that, meeting her sibling’s eyes ‘’I see’’

With a tinge of disappointment she could feel radiating out of her sibling ‘’Do please pay attention to our meetings sister’’ They looked back away from them as they added quietly ‘’it is unbecoming of you.’’

Looking away to hide her shame ‘’Of course Eldest’’ Looking around to see if anyone had seen their interaction she saw Leshy giggling off to the side. Clenching her fist against her robes under the table she uttered curses unheard by mortal ears, in languages long forgotten. That worm really deserved an earful.

But as it seemed their brother was not just content with being amused off to the side after his mischief, as suddenly his arm flew towards the newborn. Snatching the little thing in one fell swoop.

She felt her slow heart skip a beat as the youngest started  ‘’Look, the way I see it there is only one way around this’’ he begun to methodically throw the basket into the air and catching it in his hand, in way that would be playful if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying his sibling’s reaction rather than the ‘game’ he was playing with the newborn.

Clearing his throat ‘’None of you are willing to sacrifice it, none of you wanna find someone to take care of it’’ In a moment his teeth shone with a bone white brilliance, taking a feral look expected of him ‘’Then I suppose it would be fine for me to take her under my wing’’

The whole counsel grew quiet in a moment as each of the bishops took in the news differently. Kallamar seemed content at the idea as she saw him visibly calm down, no doubt thinking that their brother would get bored of the little thing and discard it quickly. As for Shamura, they seemed like they were considering the option, weighing the pros and cons.

She on the other hand only felt a cold creep from within her very core, a cold that could not be explained with mere weather. Their youngest taking care of anything let alone a baby felt… wrong.

As she considered the mere idea of it all the scenarios started to fill her mind. Maybe he would leave the little thing to fend for herself in the woods to see what would happen or perhaps they would just let chaser worms take care of her and see what would come of her in the end.

Each scenario worse than the last she couldn’t stop herself before she caught the basket in the middle of his throw before catching it back, cradling the basket to her chest she spoke with a almost a feral voice ‘’She is my lot’’

In a moment, all eyes fell on her. After what felt like a century Kallamar spoke first ‘’What did you say sist-’’

‘’It is my lot, their mother was a part of my cult.’’ She frowned towards their youngest as she shielded the baby with her arms ‘’Therefore she is mine’’ she felt the gaze from their youngest crown, the green eye within looking at her without emotion.

Their youngest looked at her with contempt radiating out of him but eventually it turned to a look that screamed indigence, as if she had taken his new favorite toy away from him.

After few more moments of silence Shamura cleared their throat ‘’I see, we have reached a verdict’’ Looking between the tension between her and their youngest they continued ‘’As the newborn is a part of Heket’s cult, I declare she holds the most claim over her’’ Looking once more over the their whole family ‘’Any objections?’’

None answered their eldest until their youngest just shrugged and with almost a pout ‘’I think that's fine’’ Looking back at her with a smirk ‘’If it is fine with Heket that is’’

He only got a nod as she decided that any word she could add here would just end up fueling his amusement.

Shamura ignoring the two of them ‘’Let it be so then. Heket, second amidst the grand bishops of The Old Faith, shall be the caretaker of Julyaryn.’’ They took in their quill before writing the documents and signing the papers.

She didn’t stay long after signing her papers, only caring to send one more glare down Leshy’s way.

Without even giving proper farewells to her siblings, she teleported them away to her temple. Ignoring all the followers who tried to speak to her she quickly made her way to her chambers before locking the door.

Finally letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she collapsed against the door.

Running her free hand through her face she desperately wished she was just dreaming or more likely going through a nightmare. Just what happened back there? Was she even thinking? She lamented her decision as she let out a frustrated groan.

She had just adopted this little mortal, without having a single clue about how to take care of a mortal let alone a newborn. What did she even want with this little mewling creature that… was crying at the moment…

Looking down on her arm she saw the little rabbit who seemed to have gone back to crying for some unknown reason. trying to think of a reason that could warrant this she ran what she knew about babies in her mind, which was not much. It should not be hungry yet she thought, she had fed the little thing back at the counsel.

 Looking at the brown furred rabbit she could tell that she didn’t intend to stop anytime soon.

Unable to take the shrill noise further she awkwardly cupped the basket with both her arms as she quietly spoke ‘’There, there?’’ She was not exactly sure what she was doing but It seemed like it was working, perhaps a little too slow for her liking still it was progress.

Cuddling her closer to her chest she tried to rock her from side to side, in a way she saw from her followers which seemed like it was doing a slightly better job.

It took the little thing a while but eventually, slowly wailing led to soft coos. With its two black eyes she looked at her, almost with awe and maybe even wonder. At the small one’s little display she felt a smile grace her lips, one that didn’t feel heavy against her wounds.

It was a small display, one that she saw many times from countless followers that came and went through her life. But it felt like this one was… special in way.

As the coos turned to giggles she thought, perhaps she didn’t know why this was happening but maybe it was good that it was happening.

After few more moments of uncertainty, almost a whisper ‘’I am with you’’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43839834/chapters/115822702

   COME ALL, COME SEE. Another chapter of this ol fic brought to you by yours truly.

   Alright, I don't wanna give any spoilers this time, so I shall make this as vague as I can. In this chapter we finally get to go back home and see that someone has done some spring cleaning I guess you can call it, and it has led to some unfortunate consequences. Also we get to meet up with an old 'friend' we haven't seen for some time, I hope you all enjoy his company just as much as a certain cat has (:

Kalamari

Alright, Hello! Welcome you all to the third episode of The Five Traitors. This time as you might have been able to guess we will be taking a look at the ol Squid boy/God Kallamar.

This chapter has taken me a while to make and I hope you all enjoy it, it is a little long but I am sure it won’t be a problem for you all. (Also the Ao3 link is down there) (:

There was a storm outside. One with great thunder that soared through the skies with a boom that reverberated across the halls and rain that can only be called a cacophony as it assaulted the walls of his temple.

With such a storm came the ocean, so fierce even the most foolhardy captains would avoid testing their luck or mettle. Once blue skies now turned grey like the murky foam that claimed the sand.

Rising above high, almost touching the clouds started the wave far away, then a moment later too soon did it come crashing against the golden beach with a force strong enough to break apart rock and stone. Just like that after such a fierce blow did it slowly recede back, with it took the pieces it claimed, to take them back with it to the unknown so far away.

In such discord, there were few who could bear it let alone enjoy it and as the Lord of these lands and the waters so ferocious he was not one of those few. Far from it in fact as he was one of many that hid from the horrid noises such storms brought, trying to cower away inside to stop the monotonous yet terrifying screams of nature.

Hiding away would perhaps be too harsh as he was only choosing to stay in his chambers. One could even say that he wasn't even really a choice and he was just getting ready for… a visit

Indeed, if one were to come to his chambers uninvited they would see him with his collection. Taking stock of his tools of war, checking his blades and scepters alongside many assortment of holy weapons.

Of course, such a thing would never happen. No one would sneak into his chambers of course, to see him not assorting his weapons and instead curled against the wall shaking. On the verge of tears over such a small thing as a storm, covering his ears in an attempt to stop the cacophony…

No, no one would ever see him like this, a God in such a pathetic form. Indeed No one ever has… other than one but he would not really be with them after they were done with their little visit.

After the visit there would be no one who could claim to have seen him cower before such a benign thing as a storm. After the visit there would never be anymore ridicule, mocking or indifference. There would only be soothing ignorance to his real pitiful self, as he would be left as the third in the line up of bishops. Forgotten as he was always meant to be.

Always spoken with dismissal if spoken at all. Always swept under the dark where none could see him and cause harm. Always be seen as invalid and protected even though he was fully able to protect himself if need be, at least in theory.

Of course, it would always stay as a theory as he was currently stuck against the wall of his chamber. No, not stuck, just preoccupied with preparations.

After another particularly loud lighting which came too close to his temple for comfort he looked up at the sudden feeling of wetness against his tentacles. Has the storm outside that had laid claim to his realm, to have come to take the last of his respite away from him? How had it breached the sanctit-

Oh… It was not rain. Black as the skies above it was ichor. wiping at his eyes he changed the ‘verge of tears’ to ‘in tears’ as now he shed few more indignant tears at his own inadequacy.

Just how much of a coward was he? Just how much of a failure? How much of a mistake?

Eyes burning with ichor he buried his head against his tentacles, trying to stop them pouring out with limited success.

What if someone saw him like this? What if one of his followers saw him weeping away in his room where he was meant to lead them in just a few hours time? What Would they think of him?

He assumed they would mostly just be disappointed but then again perhaps empathy would have been possible not too long ago. After all his apothecaries were known for their sympathy as well as their healing as one bred the other and the other complimented the first. Surely though, they were not really  apothecaries anymore were they?  not after they showed up at least…

No, he would not get empathy if they saw him like this. Not that he could blame them really.

He was not really given that by his own family, why would he get any from the ones he was supposed to lead?  No, it was just wrong to expect them to march to their doom and also pity him like the rest of everyone he had ever known… barring him. Ignoring him he pondered to the rest of his family.

There was his sister, if were to be seen by Heket there would not even be pity much less empathy. She would take one good look at his form and the wretched bile within her would rise to squash him where he stood. She would strike out in full force and in but a few short words he would be begging for what counted as a lecture to end. She would ask if he was truly the Lord of Plague, truly one of the Bishops of the old faith, truly a brother she could accept. There he would stand, almost in trial as he would mutter excuse after excuse, trying to get her to stop for a moment so he could breathe, maybe to beg her enough so she would stop assaulting his ears with her often thunderous voice.

But it wouldn’t work, it never really did. In a few minutes he would go from feeling saddened to pathetic and to miserable shortly after. Of course, she never did any of these because she hated him. No, she never really truly looked down on him. She was just giving criticism. Indeed it was him who was just too thin-skinned, she was just offering suggestions if he had just looked beneath her wording and just read between the lines… really, he was just a snowflake wasn’t he?

Then there was Leshy, there would be pity there. Lots of it in fact… After all the mocking laughter there were loads of sympathy. Each time he would howl in delight at his expense, there was always understanding hidden deep within. Each time he would whisper behind him where he couldn’t perceive just to see his reaction. Each time he would stalk him through his lands to haunt him until he couldn’t take it.

Really, it was just that He couldn’t take a joke. So what if he would lay restless each night where his ears would be worn down due to his shrieks. Where he would spend days sleepless trying to soothe them with no success, just before passing out of exhaustion into a merciful slumber. So what if, he would be looking behind him even in the sanctity of his own temple, always expecting to be followed for each step he took. Where he would station apothecaries at each of the doors just to get a semblance of safety amidst the paranoia he found himself in. So what if the only times he got to sleep without exhausting himself he kept a dagger beneath his pillow just to be safe. Really, if he could just loosen up then maybe he too would be laughing with him.

Lastly there was indifference given readily by their eldest Shamura, sweet indifference and ignorance at his sheer existence. Someone to be swept under, to be forgotten so all could ignore his inadequacy. It was perhaps the most merciful response to his being, no ridicule nor barely hidden disgust hidden with criticism and lectures. Just looking the other way and acting as if he simply didn’t exist.

If he could just be more like his other better siblings, then perhaps he could be given attention to. Then again his siblings weren’t like him, they were not failures.

Leshy never feared a single thing amidst this earth, not mortal nor beast, even their eldest up to a certain point. He simply did as he pleased even when one begged him to stop, nothing short of death would stop him. Only if he was so cruel.

Shamura was perfect, they were perfection made reality. They stood as the eldest amidst them all, one that reigned above them all as was his rightful place in their A quinte- no, their quartet. There was no being like them, as one could never reach perfection. One could only hopelessly follow it, chase it around until maybe they could catch a glimpse of it on the horizon. There was no hope for him though, he was not fast in this race nor enduring enough. He was slow as a turtle and as energetic as a sloth.

As for Heket, well she never shed a tear in her life. Not once in their uncountable years had he seen her shed a single drop of a tear. Not when she lost her first witness when she sacrificed herself for her, not when she lost villages full of her followers to starvation, not when their sibling left them…

In contrast he wept the first time he had to sacrifice one of his followers. They wanted him to do it, they practically begged him to take their life so he could be one with him. He could still remember the cold stone of his temple as he stood in front of all his siblings, all looking, judging.

He wept as expected, as soon as he felt his heart stop. In front of all his followers and siblings he wept over a simple mortal. He could still feel the disappointment from all their eyes, baring one. Heket shaking her head as Leshy snickered behind her, even Shamura paid enough attention to look away from him. All deep within carried pity for him that day, baring one. The cruelest of their siblings carried not pity, nor disgust. He carried sympathy so unwanted.

He carried that wretched feeling within himself as he walked up to him after the debacle. He walked up to him so callously and took him by the hands to guide him to his realm where he got to see his beloved follower yet again. He wept once more there, but this time it didn’t stung as bad as he told his final goodbyes to his most faithful, without the gaze of the rest of his siblings, baring him.

That misbegotten brother of his, he carried the belief of him being capable within himself. He never saw him for what he truly was, he always looked at him as if he had potential deep within instead of failure. A fool and a cruel man he was.

The same cursed brother who would have taken his hands even now, to ask him what was wrong as he did in days like this so long past. Today he wouldn’t know what to tell him but back then he told him it was the thunder and the rain that made him weep and nothing more.

He should have mocked him for standing as a god and yet being afraid of something so laughable, something that had no way of actually hurting him even back when he was much younger. He should have lectured him, told him his cowardice was a shame he brought to The Old Faith, he should have laughed at him for his weakness, he shouldn’t have even asked him what was wrong, he should have just left him to his devices and attend their court instead.

No, he just had to embrace him. He just had to look him in the eyes and tell him that no rain nor thunder could haunt him when he was with him. He had to give him the only thing he was good with, his first blade. Tell him that he didn’t need to ever be afraid as long as he was willing to fight.

He cursed him the day they sparred against one another in those halls, the day where he found something he was not a failure at. The day where he learned he hadn’t needed to be taken care of as an invalid and that he could be strong.

How he hated his brother for he took him out of his quiet dark corner and showed him the stars he came from. Promising him all that was under their grand light if he just fought for it, not realizing he was wasting his time.

Sudden anger now coursing through his veins he suddenly looked up from his corner, still on the ground with his tentacles up to his chest. Wiping at his eyes yet again, he got up slowly. He couldn’t just stay here to mop, even if it was the only other thing he was good for.

When the last of his tears dried, he looked around to take stock of his options. In his weapon rack he saw many weapons he had used in the times when even he was needed.

Scepters made for war, their gold glinting against the jewels adorning them. His hand momentarily went across one of their handles before receding. No, he needed something closer.

As his hand moved back he spotted his smaller collection. Daggers of all kinds, all lining the walls with each promising him safety allowed from such a hidden weapon. He had to admit, it was a good idea to carry one be they under a pillow or in battle. Still, he also needed some distance between him and his brother if he ever even got to fight him before he would be sidelined by his more capable siblings.

Not even looking at the holy hand grenades he moved to his most favorite part of his collection, swords of all sides in their individual cases. There were many to choose from, some straight and narrow, some curved and graceful. In the end however he chose the saber, standing taller than any mortal, Forged by blacksmiths from so far away. It would be useful.

Before he could leave his chambers to wash away the ichor, before anyone could spot him. His gaze fell on a forgotten part of his collection. In the far corner, he saw it. It was a small blade, one standing just about a mortal's height. Forged before he came to this earth from the holy lights high above, it was his first blade.

He didn’t know what possessed him to move closer to the rightfully forgotten relic, if it could even be called as such. Gingerly opening the small case, he took the weapon by the handle. It was far from easy to wield with his new size, but somehow it still felt natural within his grasp.

A high swing and a low strike, it was… unneeded. It was far too small to be used as a sword and far too big to be a dagger, it was just awkward to handle on top of that. Bringing this piece of loathed history was just a mistake…

Then again, he too was a mistake so it was only right that he would bring it to possibly his doom.

The track to the temple was unpleasant, that much was to be expected really. Between the still ongoing storm and the mountainous path, it had made everything more miserable than it had to be. Then again, maybe it had to be miserable. After all, they did come uninvited, didn't they.

Just another one of his brother’s cruelties he thought as his tentacles moved up the path. Why had he found his temple here of all places? Did he assume they would come for him one day and wanted to make it as hard as possible? or Perhaps he wanted to make it impossible for any of them to visit him, then again why would he visit his brother?

Perhaps he did it because he could. It was possible that he made his temple up on these mountains because he could do so unlike him. He was strong and independent enough to climb such high with his followers and establish such a bastion in a place so uninhabitable.

Perhaps, he just wanted to look down upon them from his castle so far high up.

Lost in thought he didn’t hear from the cacophony when one of his aphoteceri- warriors fell to her death, or at least he acted like he hadn’t heard her cries. She was no one of importance, just a mother of three with a husband lost when a prank of his brother got out of hand. Someone who worked at the cult's bakery when not in the sick bay as a nurse.

Someone who hadn’t cried for him when they fell to the stone jutting out of the side of the cliff, who didn’t ask for his mercy, who he couldn’t help because it would show him as a weakling yet again.

Forward he walked, not confident nor willing but he moved forward nonetheless.

The initial breach was bloody, as expected. His brother had raised good warriors, all who carried his name in their lips as they dove into the battle they had no chance of winning. While his soldiers fell with faces full of sorrow and anguish. Only if he was good enough to raise them as well as he.

Eventually however, even their zeal gave out. All coming back to the realm of the living from their deserved slumber to protect their master even as their bodies broke below them it wasn’t enough. In the end, they all broke away to torn limbs and broken bodies.

So they reached the gate to his throne room. Wide open with him still sitting on his throne looking at them with eyes that spoke nothing but spite.

How cruel he was, as they walked past the broken bodies of his protectors torn asunder. How his eyes didn’t twitch with indignation, as their sister stepped over a small mound made of bodies as she didn’t even bother to look down, or when his brother Leshy held a wolf within his grasp squeezing at his ribcage like a toy as he looked around bored like this was all some sightseeing.

How he hadn’t looked away as the wolf’s last words fell on the deaf ears of his master. He cried ‘F-forgive m… me-e lord for I- I… have failed-d’ as his Lord's breath hadn’t hitched for but a moment.

Now they stood, four looking at the Lord of Death as he sat still.

Then after a moment that stretched over a millenia Shamura spoke, the one that seemed least interested in this affair. ‘’Brother, Narinder. We have come to take you back’’ He looked at the Master of War at their words for a moment, surely they didn’t mean that had they? Their brother should not be allowed back, he couldn’t be allowed back… should he?

A voice rang out from the throne, one of laughter that lacked mirth that quickly fell to melancholy. ‘’His name was Melvin you know, my Witness’’ He got up from his chair slowly as he walked closer to them. He felt his grip on his sabre harden as he felt each step reverberate against the ground.

He pointed at the small mound as his voice grew colder ‘’They were the ones whom I called my priests. Lancelot the deafened’’ After a moment he added ‘’He was a grand writer. The one closer to me was Deniz, they held no title but were grand nonetheless.’’ He sighed as he gazed at the last of the ones who still could be distinguished amidst the pile ‘’Joan, youngest of them all. She was a poet an-’’

He was cut out by their sister as she spoke ‘’Quit the nonsense Narinder’’ She turned to Leshy as she held her axe closer ‘’Leshy, with me’’ Before she could take her place against him however their siblings hand stopped her.

Shamura eyed her wearily, as they sighed ‘’There is no need for such action sister, Narinder will come with us to his rightful place’’ they looked back at Narinder ‘’Won’t you brother?’’ There was almost a tinge of hope behind their seemingly uninterested voice.

He for his part looked upon his sibling for a moment, so many untold thoughts coming through his mind surely. For a moment as he looked deep into his unsure eyes, he thought that their brother would show one kindness to him and show him that he did not stand to go against their sibling’s word. Show him that all had to follow his word no matter how nonsensical and humiliating it felt, and that it was not something one could fight against. Yet again his hope was dashed across the halls broken as his eyes met the still bloodied hand of Leshy still clutching the corpse of his follower.

He shook his head before a gentle smile bloomed slowly over him, he spoke ‘’No, I don’t think I will sibling’’

At his words came a warcry from Heket, striding at their brother with full force. Swinging his warhammer Leshy joined her, barreling at him in force. He was as he looked over the battle commencing in front of him. Looking over to their eldest he looked much like a statue as they gazed at nowhere in particular.

Just then a voice rang out, coming from Heket who was deflecting a blow from their brother ‘’Come on you damn squid, be useful for once and join us!’’

Before he could apologize to her for his failure, Leshy spoke while swinging his warhammer over his head ‘’Leave the crybaby be, we don’t need that coward’’

He didn’t let their words sink deep before entering the fray, his three hearts beating down in his chest as he tried to match their brother’s style. It was easier said than done however as they were not in those halls like back in the days, his brother was not holding back.

Each strike was perfect, his ripostes were blinding as were his dodges. Each strike felt like fighting against the thunder outside as they all got reflected or turned against him with a counter. His ears rang out almost deafened by the noise of steel against steel.

What was not helping their fight was the fact that there was no cohesion between them all. Heket acted like he nor Leshy existed as she pushed further and further against their brother who brushed each of her advances. As for Leshy, he acted like it was all a free for all as he swung wildly at them all with almost a giggle emanating from him.

It all went so fast, one moment they were fighting and the next he met the stone under them, his sabre falling behind him as he heard the metal hitting the floor. Momentarily stunned it took him a while to look over to his siblings, but as soon as his eyes met them he wished he hadn’t.

Leshy was on the ground clutching his face as he shook violently, Heket on the other hand was against a pillar as she held her throat, oozing ichor slowly as she no doubt tried to curse the one that caused the injury.

Their brother paid neither any mind as he slowly made his way to him, walking slowly as he looked down on him with pity. So now he was finally kind to him, looking at him the way all should have.

Breathing deep he tried to calm down, his three hearts now feeling like they were about to tear their way out of him as he slowly realized what was to happen. He was going to die.

The primal urge to fight back was overtaken by sheer terror as he was frozen to his spot, unable to even look at his brother he instead closed his eyes. His hands to his eyes, he tried to calm himself down.

No matter what he did however, it didn’t help. Each step he took closer to him drew him closer to the inevitability. This is what he was always afraid of wasn’t it? The unstoppable constant that is death, his brother.

The thing that pushed them so far from those lackadaisical days at his temple, to now here. It was almost poetic if it wasn’t so scary.

Steps stopped close to him. A second then a minute, nothing happened. Too afraid to open his eyes he waited for his assured doom, why couldn’t his brother just finish him already? Had he have to torture him like this?

But instead of a blade striking down he heard his brother’s voice. This time it felt… odd. ‘’Why are you afraid brother?’’ He stopped shaking ever so slightly as he moved his fingers just enough to look upon his executioner. ‘’Haven’t I told you, you have nothing to fear as long as you are willing to fight?’’

He was stunned for a moment, his surprise caused by his voice just as much as his unwillingness to finish him off. ‘’I-I c-cant… I can’t fight-t I.. I’’ He tried to form words but his throat squeezed harder and harder at his attempt.

Seemingly not seeing his struggle, or perhaps because of that struggle ‘’Why so?’’

Gathering what courage he had within him he looked up, his fingers fully parted he gazed upon his brother. Now on his knee with his weapon to his side, he gave him a curious look. Breathing in deep, he let it out with a sigh ‘’I… I have no blade’’ His throat constricting further at his attempt he felt the tears finally breach as he wailed ‘’J-just end it already!’’

Just why was he still playing with him?! What was his damn game? Had he just wanted to see him in tears, did he just want to humiliate him one more time as if he wasn’t already?

Lost in thought he didn’t see his hand move to his face, gasping for a moment as he felt his paw wiping at one of the tears running down his eyes. In a voice so soft ‘’You have a blade, one so dear to me as you are’’

What blade? He thought before he remembered. His hands went to his cloak to seek his old blade to feel nothing, he felt a terrifying chill run down his body before suddenly he saw it within Narinder’s paw, offering it to him just like once before.

Hesitantly he reached out, grasping the weapon by the small hilt. His brother gave him a smile before he grabbed him by the shoulder. Slowly they got up, both upright as Narinder moved a step away from him.

He small smile crept to his lips before in a playful tone ‘’Come on Kalamari, show me what you got’’

He oddly enough returned his smile, maybe out of confusion or perhaps fear. It began, slow at first as his brother countered his attacks. His strikes were not like the ones a moment past, they weren’t softer perhaps but they didn’t carry the same intent from before.

But eventually the warm up ended as the spar or fight or really whatever this was supposed to be really started. Almost like a dance his brother struck from one side to the next, spinning a moment before jumping high. It was not really a sound idea in battle to do either but it was… Fun.

Taking his clue he started his own ‘dance’, crouching low before raising his blade high to meet his on air. Spinning on his tentacles to match his turns and weaves, to add to their play.

In the end, he couldn’t call this much of a spar, but it was something more perhaps. Something that made him forget all those years spent fearing him, something that quickly ended with the addition of another dancer who didn’t seem to care much about softening their blows.

This new dancer was not really in favor of their dance going on longer either as they struck true and quick. In a few short moments he found himself going against the newcomer alongside his brother, this time neither struck soft as they battled them.

But by sheer chance or perhaps misfortune his brother fell to his knees, a moment so wrong and horrific. Not one moment sooner he found himself on the ground also with a strange ring in his ears as they felt… odd. Something ran through his head as he looked up to meet his sibling with their claws against his brother’s throat.

Realization hit him as he understood what he had just done, he fought against his eldest. The thought terrified him to his core as his mind ran with the possibility of what was to happen to him. Would he be cast out? Would he be run through with claws? Would he…

He was taken from these portents by the gasps of his brother who struggled in the grasp of their elder. In that moment he felt horror stronger than that of the fear he felt for his own life, one for his brother’s.

So their dance ended for real this time, as his blade pierced the heart of their eldest when they seemed so intent on taking the life of his brother, overlooking his sheer existence for the last time. One moment they looked within their brother’s dimming eyes with nothing but pain and in the next they found themselves in his realm as they collapsed upon the stone.

His brother breathed hard as he looked up to him from the ground, his eyes regaining their shine as he gazed upon his blade which ran with ichor.

Offering his hand he took it in his a moment later, and they rose up from the ground just like a moment before their dance.

He felt an awkward silence settle between the two of them before the soft voice from before cut through ‘’You did good Kalamari’’ He chuckled softly ‘’Real good’’

As he felt a small chuckle rise out of him, he found himself in his embrace, He did good didn’t he?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/114866662

Heyyyyy, another chapter. we are at 18th now, it is not really a special number nor does it have some odd significance to me but I felt like pointing it out.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy another chapter on the adventures of the camellia trio (Yes thats what I will call them) as they go into a place they really shouldn’t

Alright, short chapter this time. I would have normally added this to a longer chapter but I felt like it just wouldn’t have fit in with a normal chapter.

It is just waaaaay too odd and would most likely stand out. Anyhow, we are back to angst you all HURRAY 

Heyyyyyy, hello! So another chapter, one that is around 4600ish words because I couldn’t bring myself to cut it into pieces... again. I swear one day I will learn how to cut these into reasonable chunks for the sake of all of us.  Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it is full of angst and some actual honest to hell comfort, HURRAY we are finally at the comfort!

Froglet

Hey People, firstly sorry for the delay. As you might have heard, my country (Turkey) ain't doing so hot at the moment. Between the storms and more importantly the earthquake it has been a little hard here. luckily we weren't hit by the earthquake where I live, but we got our fair share of unpleasantness from the storm. Anyway other than that there is not much I want to say, I hope you all enjoy this one. More regular uploads will continue when I can manage. Trying work without a stable internet and cold fingers is kind of hard sadly and there is only so much a candle can heat up.

She drummed her fingers against the arm of her throne. Each tap trying to rise above the cacophony that has overtaken her temple. Each tap trying and failing to silence the clattering steel and shouts of warriors getting ready for what was to come. Tap, tap, tap, tap her four fingers went with her thumb pushing against the side of the throne, digging into the wood. She was calm, really she was. She was so calm indeed that she was barely even thinking of what was to come, it was simply off from her mind as she calmly waited… and waited… waited. Her eyes were closed, all four shut against the world and the temple she called her own. To the cut stone beneath her throne to the rustic walls that kept her cult sheltered. To the ones she used to call her patrons, now divisions and warriors that were meant to march. Really calm, really, truly calm… No, she wasn’t. She was not calm, not in the slightest. She couldn’t do this to herself. She was many things, a Goddess, a Bishop of the old faith, a sister and not a liar. Besides, she was not really someone to believe in her own lies. Though was she? Was she really not a liar? Even in that sentence there were lies if not some half truths at least. It was true she was a Goddess, Lady of Famine, the one over the domain of sate and hunger in their dance that only ended with the release of death. Then again, if she were the Lady famine then why were her patrons armed in weapons instead of scythes and buckets? Why were they getting ready for what was to come, instead of fasting in their homes? She knew the answer, but really it was better that she kept the answer away from herself. It was also true that she was a bishop of the old faith, she was the new right hand of Shamura, the first one to establish the faith. Then again, was she really? She did not really feel like she was a bishop as much as a commander for her armies now or some odd figurehead at times. She was not really preaching the perseverance that came with the abstinence of what was most vital to life and the release and euphoria that came with the feast. The dance of gorge and the fast. No, these days she was preaching the righteousness of what was to come. Of how one can only find themselves true in war and not by the release of a hot meal after a long day of work toiling in one's lot. It was true, she was a sister. Sister to Leshy, the fifth in the roster of the old faith. God of Chaos that stood over the realms of green and brown. The one that has been with them the least. The hardest to contain amongst the old faith. The one that had brought nothing but a headache to her since his lowly beginnings as a mewling worm. From the days he saw fit to set ablaze her temple in his many ‘pranks’ to his inability to listen to her heeds and warnings. Choosing to ignore where she tried to reason, to use his domain against the criticism he needed to improve. A child she could never see sitting on a throne. Sister to Kalamar, The fourth to come to their coven of Gods. God of Pestilence that stood over the blue and yellow. The one that had done nothing but cower behind her, never setting right where he erred. The one that threw the blame when her honest words came too much. The leach that took all love and gave but disloyalty, a snake she had to trust in what was to come. A coward she never wanted to see ruling. Sister to Shamura, her oldest sibling who was the leader of their quartet. The one that has given her the weapons and arms to wage the war they assured her was necessary. The sibling that has taken the honest work of her patrons in her tavern and has transformed them all to warrior kin only they could assemble. The one that has only taken when her dance was of gift and forfeit. A dance she came to break with their steel and bronze where once there was only wood and clay. A mad tyrant with a vision that may as well have been for their ruin rather than salvation. She was lastly, the sister to Narinder. The second to come in the pantheon of the old faith. The one she was to meet soon, in what was to come. The pompous prick that dared to defile the word of the old faith, dare go against Shamura’s wishes, dared to take his lot away… dared to leave her alone, dare to leave her in charge where he was meant to stay and lead with Shamura, dare to push this responsibility to her. The one that caused all of this… did he though? The traitorous thought snaked its way into her mind. Did he truly cause this all? No, well yes but… half truth she supposed, it could only be called that. He was the one that left, the one that took his followers with him away from them. Into lands they were to march in what's to come. He was the one that made his temple there, on the misty mountains where white met against white with the snow and clouds. A temple he built of marble and stone of the unforgiving silver mountains where his realm was closest to. But, she knew he didn’t want to. She knew he didn’t mean to defile a faith he helped to create in its infancy, if it hadn’t forgotten his name. He was the one that went against the creator of the old faith, their eldest sibling, Master of War, Shamura. To fight against their gospel when it stopped suiting him instead of accepting them as law as must all in the lands of the old faith, be they mortal or God. But she knew. She knew he wouldn’t have went against Shamura’s wishes if they weren’t so unreasonable as to demand him to reduce his own cult to nothing. To waste his days away from them in solitude. Though she supposed, that part did come to be eventually. He was the one that took what was left of his lot away. The pitiful bunch that stuck with him even after what had happened… She knew they had no other choice as much as he. He was the one to leave her alone. To fend for herself in this complicated dance of politics she was thrusted into from her humble patrons and tavern, to the halls of the spider. To the insolent and egotistical court of lies. To make her a moth to the webs of affairs and intrigue, she had to learn from. She knew a lot, but she still didn’t know how he could have done such a thing when he was the one that embraced her for the first time when she was but a tadpole, swimming in the unknown depths of her soon to be realm. Again came the taps; tap, tap, tap, tap as she remembered the faithful day. She was alone on those days. So long ago she could barely remember the way stars have shone when she came crashing down from the heavens above. Alone and with no purpose, wading through the swamps of her now land. She was fierce, she was strong, she was the second inevitability of the world. Hunger. She hunted as she jumped from pond to pond, letting her hunger guide her in the murky waters. Alas, she was not the strongest nor the fiercest for she met one mightier. A dark God she could best in but a moment now, but back then a foe she withered against. However, even with the odds against her, she did not meet death that day. At least not in the way she thought she would while struggling in the dark God’s grasp. A slice and a broken body in the pond where she thought she would see the last of the stars. Finding herself in the arms of the cat clad in black black with three kind eyes and a mouth full of gentle but sharp teeth. She met him then, God of Death, her second eldest. The one they would slaughter soon.   Her eyes opened, slowly as she drummed her fingers faster and faster. Tap, tap, tap, tap they went as she accepted the truth, she was a liar. A true liar. Truth was, she was none of those things. She failed in all of those or at least she was about to. With  the blood of her brother spilled over the marble of his temple, her fate would forever be sealed as a liar. In those misty towering behemoths of white would he be waiting, for what was to come. So what was to come, came. Here she was, waiting for her fate just as much as the cat clad in white with three eyes and a not so kind sharp teeth had. Tap, tap, tap, tap came the noise out her axe as her claws met the handle. She waited, she waited for something she knew was not going to happen. She waited for him to give up, to let them take him back, to let them exact punishment against him and his ilk. A miracle. But she knew, he would never give up. He would fight, now and always as he had all those faithful years ago against the Dark God. With vain hope she looked around, to see her own ilk. All discarded like toy soldiers, strewn about like mere dolls. Their sorrowful faces drowned amidst the warriors of Shamura with their proud eyes. Another thing she was to blame him for, but she knew she couldn’t. From seeing her ilk to seeing her kin. She saw Kalmar first, terrified as ever. He wore a face of nervousness, his ears hung low as his eyes peered around as if he looked all as an enemy to fear. His followers did not share their master’s fear however, all brave faces. Not proud, but brave. All holding their heads high even if their very Lord couldn’t. She held off her sneer as she looked to see Leshy. Bored eyes met hers, he looked all around lazily like it was just a game. Just some sightseeing tour he was barely paying attention to as he twirled his hammer. Unmoved by the soulless eyes that gazed back at him from the ground. His own followers now gone and dust, looking at them with emotions even she didn’t know. She held her tongue as she gazed once more which landed on them, the one that brought them here, Master of War that looked sorrowful where they were to be in delight. The crest of their brow low, hiding all that was going on behind that old decrepit mind of theirs. Looking straight at the one they came to slaughter with eyes that spoke of only regret. She felt the blood in her veins boil as her fingers went TAP, TAP, TAP, TAP. She held her venom as she looked to see him. He held himself high, ears following afoot. His brow high and eyes that shone with purpose and commitment. There wasn’t much left of his followers, but they held the same look as their master even in the end, and most likely beyond. Waiting for him to join them in his rightful domain. ‘So he is the whom I am to slaughter, one that stayed one with his ilk when the rest of his kin had not’ she thought. One that looked not apart from the bodies that once fought against the invader in his name. Shame, she thought. Shame to the ones on the ground, the ones who are about to meet it and to the rest who are still above it. So it began, after a couple of pretty words uttered by their sibling. First tap, she swung first and true. If she was to be damned, it was to be done with grace to match the one that dodged her attack. He fought with elegance she had only seen from their eldest, one that had not fought for long years even before this. He would vault over the haphazard attacks of Leshy that at times felt like they were meant for her. Just as he would vault he would dodge the opportunistic attacks of Kalamar in the same breath. He would complete the dance with a counter to her own attack that would have hit if he had waited but a moment more. Second tap, she changed tactics. Now she would try to push him instead of hitting him, trying to force him into the attacks of Leshy who lacked the cohesion to understand her idea or just didn’t care. Just as she would push him off Kalamar would be there to give him back the space she so hardly fought to take. Running and dodging where he was meant to stay and deliver. After the third tap of the scythe against the axe she realized she was not just outmatched but she was also very much alone. It didn’t matter what she did, what tactic she implored. All it did was to give her a fool's hope that would be dashed into pieces when put into practice. Her tactics were like the speeches she delivered in court, ignored without the input of their sibling who still hadn’t joined them. Before the fourth tap she saw her brother, this time fully. His brother stood above the three, like the dark God that was to take her to his realm from all those years ago. For one terrible moment she realized, she was going to die. Maybe not a liar like she thought but dead nonetheless for his brother was death, the killer of Gods fore and now. At the fifth tap that she sounded with the drop of her knee she could see. She saw the still figure of Shamura who watched the slaughter. She saw the sibling that brought them here, to the place where his kind brother became the nightmare from her long lost nightmares. The one that watched with pity as they were cut down. The one that still looked from above as their brother breathed death against them. She saw her enemy. She saw the real traitor. There was no sixth tap, it was more of a clang that reverbated across the halls of the temple. The clang that came to be by her axe which saw the claw of Shamura. At that moment as all of her family looked at her, she knew she was dead. For a moment silence and in the next ‘’Traitors’’ came the hiss of Shamura, then came her claw that with grace that could only be matched by their second eldest. Proven with his scythe came between her and the cold claw of their eldest. She didn’t know what compelled her to block the hit that came from Kalamar that was meant for Narinder. She didn’t know and would most likely never know, but at the moment she couldn’t think much about that. So they continued, a froglet and a kitten against three dark Gods. Scythe and axe matching claw, sword and hammer. It was a dance now, one that somehow felt comforting as she sliced the ears of their cowardly brother. It felt like the ones they shared when it was just the two of them when the traitor had gone to tend to their court. When the cold of the night and the mist of the temple reminded her of the day she met the monster that almost made her its prey. So when he took the eyes of Leshy she couldn’t help but tap, tap, tap, tap. Then came tap, tap, tap, tap from his scythe to the ground as they were pushed back by the enraged Master of War, who now only saw red as their two siblings met the stone of the temple. Slice to cut, out came the ichor that danced in the air. For a moment she had a lip barring no scar that sang away those awful nights with his brother’s kind eyes watching. Now scarred they were, with a split that came from the claws of the traitor. The kind eyes looked at her once more as she lost her footing. Shining with determination she wished she could match before the three were now two as the traitor took more off of them. She found herself on the ground as his brother found himself pushed to the ground as the traitor took him apart, slice after slice as they cursed him. His weapon broken and away where he could not reach. For as many things she knew she didn’t know many yet. But she knew one thing, the traitor had to meet their end. She didn’t know how she matched the grace of the spider for that moment, but for a moment she truly felt like she danced maybe for the first time with Shamura before she met the cold claws once more. This time she would gain not a scar but lose a tooth and maybe two. But there came no more slice nor cut for the Traitor met his end with the sharper claws of their brother. With the same claws that gently took her up from the pond to a home, he took apart the brow that hid many and the mind that was behind this terribleness. Tap, tap, tap, tap. She heard, against her palm as she lay. She held his gaze as her four met the last two eyes of a cat clad in white and much red, with a mouth full of kind razor sharp teeth that gave her a smile. She closed her eyes as she heard ‘’Tap, tap, tap, tap froglet of mine’’ His hand found her lip as she felt his soothing cold claws, healing the damage of the traitor. ‘’Tap, tap, tap, tap cry not for I am here. Forever and more, with you.’’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/112140313

Heh, I can remember my own first chapter, all the excitement, all the plans for the future.

Anyhow, glad to hear you want to write more of it! I shall readddd em as you writttte em.

I finally did it!! I can't believe I wrote this by myself, honestly. I'm still new to writing stuff so I'm not sure of this text is enough readable but I already like the beginning of the story.

Also, I was planning to make it...bigger. Like, a lot bigger. But I guess that this chapter wasn't in need of too much details

Alright first things first, this is a bloody long chapter. I know I have been saying that a lot recently but dear hell this one is long. So watch out for that.

Seconds thing second, Watch out for the cute/Eldritch horrorish parts cause there are some moments that are... interesting to say the least. Other than those two, I have not much else to add. I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter cause I will need to take a day off to visit the gramps sooooo the next chapter may take some more time. 

(:

Alright firstly, I am sorry for the delay. Honestly I would blame the exams and yeah they were mostly the reason as to why I haven't been uploading but also I had some things to do on a personal level. After a visit to a psychologist and a quick visit to relatives I am now a little more free to write again.

Secondly, this chapter was a bloody rollercoaster to write. A lot of gooooood ol Angst happens in this one and guess what? No comfort. Yep, only hurt. Comfort shall take place laaaaater.  

Anyhow I hope you all enjoy this roller coaster of a chapter as much as I had enjoyed woodworking today. (might post pics of that later)

12th chapter right here, right before my finals, right before the 2 weeks of suffering. Anyway, this chapter took a while to write. I almost posted it a day before but wanted to sleep a little and look back on it to make sure it was up to quality. Thank bloody hell I did that, almost sent it with all those mistakes. Now it still probably has mistakes but it is prettier?

Anyhow this chapter the duo make their way into the forest, a dim and dark one full of weird birdsssssss and other critters of all kinds.

Alright, another chapter and another one after this already in the works. It is good to be back on track with enough time left to worry about other things. Other than that I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it is a bit short but alas this was kind of the only way I could chop the chapter in a cohesive manner.

(:

Chapter 2 is out! I am actually happy with it even though it's shorter but bear with me

Hi there! I wrote a fanfic about Steph and Grace and I wanted to share it and maybe find people who also love Starkid :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63289108

I wrote a fanfiction! About Karis and a hypothetical "good" ending that he did not actually get.

Here are the scene dividers I've made for my fics :D (free to use wth attribution to me)

참나리 (Cham-nari): 一⊹‧₊𝄬𝄇≾❋≿𝄆𝄬₊‧⊹一

Can't deny our love: ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Once bitten & twice shy: ★*⍋*♡*⍋*★

Invisible string: — α ◌ ω —

Yeah, so, you know what? How about some Shakespeare, but it's modern!au, everyone serves in the army, Beatrice is between gender-questioning and trans, and Benedick is just a wet pathetic bisexual