Your godhood burned to ashes / Cult of the Lamb

Indemnified to sympathy

Narinder locked himself up in his sleeping quarters, with no intentions of leaving it anytime soon. He sat on his bed enraged, fire in his eyes, a burning sensation in his veins. Seething fury, and frustration was overwhelming, making him clench his fists unawarely, as he exhaled slowly, trying to calm down.

"That damned lamb." A whisper escaped his lips. He threw himself onto the bed, sinking into the sheets, his eyes focused on the blank, plain ceiling.

Oh, how much he despised that lamb.

He couldn't see past his rage, his vision was flooded in red. No amount of time would make him accept being robbed of his godhood. The descent and regress from a God, to barely a servant was insufferable.

The lamb appropriated his crown, bearing its power. They thought themselves a God, a divine being, which was true to some degree. Worships and prayers from faithful followers made them stronger with each passing day.

But the strength they possessed didn't belong to them. It was meant to be his. The cult was created under his command, in Narinder's name. They were supposed to be his tool, a Vessel of his that was supposed to free him from the gates between life and what came next, from the nexus of what was and wasn't.

Instead, it went from bad to worse.

Once a God of Death, now just a pathetic mortal. He had nothing to show off for himself. Power, and authority that the crown gifted him was stolen, and in use by another unworthy deity.

Acceptance didn't seem to become present any time soon, he couldn't let go. Deep inside, he was still determined to regain his power.

And so, he hadn't left the sleeping quarters once, for the rest of the day.

° ° °

Another sunrise, and another morning. Despite the blazing sunlight, Narinder still hadn't gotten out of his bed. He was awake, eyes still focused on the ceiling, as he erred in his thoughts.

Sleep didn't wish to welcome him that night, perhaps it was the other way around. He resisted rest in fear of time passing by too quickly. Pioneering ventures into little-known areas, in the company of the twins and the lamb wasn't his cup of tea... to say the least.

Eventually, he knew he had no other choice. No matter the effort, it was all the same. He wasn't the one in control anymore, he was just a pawn, or a toy.

Loud knocks on the doors echoed through his sleeping quarters. Such a subtle noise, yet the reaction was purely dramatic. He hesitated, unsure if he should answer. Hunger was slowly draining him from energy, but the thought of being dragged into a crusade felt tiring.

"Breakfast is ready." A well known voice informed him, as he finally unlocked the door, and directed his steps to the dining area. Narinder awkwardly sat down, not daring to make eye contact with anyone. He got a bowl of berries, and sat next to the twins, having no better choice.

"This is disgusting." There wasn't a single morning when the lamb wouldn't hear that. It became a daily routine at this point. Their food wasn't even as gross as Narinder kept describing it. He just could not bring himself to admit that his former Vessel could cook when they needed to.

"You wanna switch?" Lamb said with a hint of irony in their tone, their brow twitched slightly. In response, he just sighed.

"Whatever." He pushed his bowl into their direction. "It is all equally horrible."

Lamb raised an eyebrow in surprise, they didn't actually mean it, yet still switched the bowls with a sinister smile on their face. If that was what he wanted, then why not?