Cult of the Lamb : The Man in the Forest

Chapter 23: The Harvest Festival

If anything is certain, it is that time moves on. Merida could not wallow in her pain, and neither could Narinder. As it turns out, Narinder had indeed told Kenedra everything. From his transition into the sadistic, cruel ruler that had to be struck down, to his decay into madness as a fresh outcast. Everything he had ever done or planned to do was laid out for her at her insistent request. The only thing that was left out, and Merida confirmed this with Narinder, was his abuse of Nykka. He still believed that particular story was better left for the Goddess herself to divulge, and Merida agreed due to the talk she'd had with the Bishop in question. Even without that painful piece of information, Kenedra did not take the news particularly well. She managed to hold herself together throughout most of the day, but had fallen apart come nightfall.

The cottage had fallen into a state of passive gloom. All three occupants plagued by their assorted mental burdens. As Narinder predicted, Merida's stutter and tremor had gone away completely over the course of a few days. Luckily, he was also correct in supposing her night terrors would subside. Though, she still suffered flashes of painful visions, and persistent nightmares. At least they weren't the kind to disturb Kenedra's sleep too. Kenedra, who had always been the most optimistic of the three, had managed to push past her grief. Choosing to idealize the present and future over dwelling on the past. The periodic melancholy she continued to face was almost entirely based on her worry for Merida.

The Harvest Festival was quickly approaching. It was only one day away, and Merida felt pressured to keep Kenedra in good spirits. Despite what had happened, she had every intention to follow through on her plans. She'd been following Narinder's advice to a T. Waking up fully after her nightmares, near religious levels of meditation, and she was sure to maintain her sleep schedule. She did all of it not for herself, but for Kenedra. To keep Kenedra happy, she had to keep herself sane. Which wasn't the easiest endeavor to take on as the nightmares and visions threatened to unhinge her whenever she let her mind become too lax.

They had just finished breakfast and Narinder stood, intending to pull the last of the vegetables from the garden before the first freeze of the season had a chance to ruin them. Merida watched him leave and pushed back her wool with a heavy sigh. Kenedra, who had been working on the dishes, looked back.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I just... I still need to talk to him about the Festival."

"Ah yes, the Harvest Festival." Kenedra nodded, wiping her hands dry on a towel. "You are truly set on it then?"

"Of course I am. You need a bit of fun after everything that happened."

"Oh, you are stubborn." Ken smiled, approaching before leaning down to rest her arms over Merida's shoulders from behind. "I doubt Father will mind me going, why are you hesitant to talk to him?" She asked, nuzzling up to her cheek. Merida blushed, a small smile appearing on her face.

"You know me... I overthink everything." She answered lamely.

"You worry me, love." Kenedra said softly before kissing her cheek. "Your mind is out of sorts lately."

"I am fine, Ken, really." She turned to give her a short kiss on the lips. "I promise."

"Mhm... I am sure." Kenedra sighed pleasantly and released her. "Very well, if you plan to talk to him, you should do so soon. The Festival is tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah, it is." Merida said and stood. "Alright, can't push this off any longer."

"That is the spirit, darling." Kenedra chuckled, kissing her cheek a final time. "Good luck." Merida flashed a small smile and exited the cottage. She walked around to the garden and found Narinder freeing a plump pumpkin from its vine. He glanced back at her for a moment before resuming what he was doing.