Your godhood burned to ashes / Cult of the Lamb

Unfolding a tale of divination

A/N:

I apologise for any errors, I didn't have a beta reader this time D:

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Navy ink splattered across the pages of a notebook, leaving an ugly stain. “Damn it.” Narinder whispered under his nose. His mind was a master of verses and rhymes, his peace was to pour his thoughts onto paper; but mistakes happen. He sighed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Whatever.” He crumpled the paper, and threw it away, accepting his failure.

It has already been a couple of hours, and the sun has settled high onto the sky. He wondered how no one had found him yet. Even if his presence wasn't too useful to the fledgling god, his suffering was their joy. They teased him for entertainment whenever they got a chance to. Besides that, weren't they worried about him escaping? He could recall countless times when his attempts would be interrupted at the speed of light, how was it different this time? 

He could have continued his search already, yet a break was needed. His sanity would start running low if he didn't allow himself a few minutes of rest. There was no rush, he felt like he had all the time in the world, as if a time machine happened to stop it just for his own convenience. 

He reached for the book, and unravelled the world displayed in the first chapter. The same tale about a powerful deity, and their pathetic servant. 

This time, he decided to dive dipped into the imaginary dimension enchanted onto the silky pages. He wanted to discover the secrets hidden inside, after all, there had to be a reason the book was in his hands now. Maybe, it really was just a heartwarming gift - a symbol of kindness. Or maybe, it was another trap set by The Lamb to watch him burn. Either way, he wouldn't know if he didn't read it. 

He dived deeper into the story. It was a tale filled with both sorrow, and toxicity, as if straight from Anura. A story about a God, and their pathetic servant. Everyday, the clock would have struck the hour of another sermon, and another sacrifice.

It was pretty close to his reality, maybe even too close. Perchance, that was the reason it was their favourite book; it was a cruel tale, written by a psycho, for psychos.

Similarities between the book and his life were everywhere, except for one aspect. The servant and the deity despite being enemies, grew an attachment to each other, eventually developing love towards one another. Both hid it so well, that the feelings remained veiled inside of their souls, never being unravelled to see the daylight. 

Poof. 

He closed the portal made of words. He would come back to it when everything was settled. For now, he had mixed feelings about the tale. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, yet it kept sending concerns at him, knowing that this specific book was thrown onto him by his former Vessel. 

He stood up onto his feet, willing to continue his venture. And so he walked, marching through an unknown path to a known destination. Flashbacks of the past were showing him abstract patches of colour whenever he blinked, yet with each step, they seemed to be more vibrant and sharp. 

Suddenly, he seemed to know the area he stumbled into. He was close to his destination, closer than ever. Even if he wasn't capable of fulfilling his calling yet, he needed to at least remind himself where the woman worked. He could swear he was already going in the right direction, but then, a familiar voice appeared. 

Damned lamb. 

He was furious. He knew that eventually they would trace his footprints, but the moment was absolutely tragic. He felt like a blaze fighting against rain. The Lamb always seemed to find their way to interrupt him at the worst times possible. 

“You've taken the book along with you.” A subtle ray of sunshine mixed with malice appeared on their face. They hadn't expected him to care for the hardcover book as much, they predicted he would just toss it away. “Where were you going?” They added. 

“...Doesn't matter.” He hesitated if he should speak truthfully. Maybe, that didn't have to be kept a secret, it was just an ordinary venture, for an ordinary purpose. But the fear of being stopped was what kept him silent. 

The deity sent him a confused stare, they knew he was up to something. They emitted a muffled laugh, assuming he was planning an escape once again. How foolish of a mortal he was now, they thought. Whenever he was left alone, there was always an attempt at something. It entertained them to see him struggle each time. 

Narinder thoughtfully turned his gaze at the twins. How could he reunite them with their mother? How could he word it, so that he would be allowed to. 

Aym and Baal looked tired, dark circles under their eyes and a weary posture clearly stated that. Not only did they not sleep well that night, they were exhausted from tidying up the absolute garbage dump of a cult. Even if Narinder initiated a conversation about their mother, they probably wouldn't be capable of responding appropriately. The twins were fatigued, they felt as if their bodies were weighted up, and they had to walk uphill. 

“It's a shame you didn't wish to assist us with the… cleaning.” The Lamb stated with a hint of irony in their tone. “It would have definitely been faster and easier if another pair of arms was to help us. “

Narinder knew that now, he had no choice but to be forced to come back to the hotel. Yet an idea was sparkling in his mind, he would manage to somehow pay for his sins, he was confident about that. He just needed to seize the opportunity, and think of a believable lie so that the twins would wish to come along.