Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 30: The Dream Banquet

In the dreamlike fields of a slumber, Narinder walked through the halls of a grand castle. He did not remember how he had arrived there, nor why he was in that place, but the atmosphere felt familiar and somewhat nostalgic. The castle walls were adorned with tapestries of a forgotten past, and each step resonated with a soft echo, as if the corridors were alive, breathing with him.

Looking around, he spotted a butler walking nearby. He could not make out his face, as his figure was a dark shadow, a being without a clear identity, just a vague silhouette with a body. Still, Narinder decided to approach him for answers.

"Oh, God of the red crown!" said the butler in a soft but ceremonious voice. "What a joy to see you. The banquet of Heket is this way. Please follow me."

Narinder, still not recalling any banquet, smiled at the thought. Heket, his sister, had an almost magical talent in the kitchen, and any event she was involved in always resulted in a legendary feast. Her cooking was an art in itself.

Adjusting the red crown upon his head, Narinder followed the butler down the long corridor. Around him, the castle shimmered with an unreal beauty, filled with jewels and gold that gleamed in the light of hundreds of chandeliers. Everything seemed pulled from a fairy tale, a place where magic and wealth intertwined.

"Wow, Kallamar must have decorated all this," Narinder thought, recognizing his brother's aesthetic touch.

The music resonating in the air was vibrant and chaotic, full of energy and life. It was a curious contrast to the elegance of the place, but something about it felt comforting. "Leshy must have been in charge of this," he mused with a smile.

When he finally entered the grand banquet hall, his eyes widened in astonishment. The hall was splendid, filled with light and brilliance, exuding a grandeur worthy of kings. Everything sparkled with jewels and lavish decorations, and the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with lively and joyful energy.

And there, among the crowd, Narinder saw a figure that made him stop for a moment. Shamura. The spider, his brother, was peacefully chatting with the guests, his face radiating a tranquility that Narinder did not remember seeing in a long time. He seemed happy, holding an elegant wine glass, enveloped in an atmosphere of joy.

Narinder felt an inexplicable relief. For an instant, everything seemed right. It was a comforting image, a vision of better times when the five bishops shared banquets and joys.

For a brief moment, Narinder allowed that peace to envelop him.

Shamura was surrounded by an audience of shadows, indistinct figures that, curiously, did not disturb Narinder. It was as if this scene felt natural to him, a mix of the familiar with the unknown. All present, except for his brothers, were abstract figures, but that did not bother him in the slightest. There was something reassuring in the scene, in the company of his brothers.

Shamura raised his glass, addressing the audience and proclaiming solemnly, "Here is the god who helped fulfill our dream!"

A chorus of applause resonated from the shadows, as if those dark beings were grateful and full of respect for Narinder.

Shamura continued, with a slight smile: "Laplace, the former god of luck, gave us quite a few problems. For a moment, I thought Heket would lose an arm, but Narinder was the one who dealt the final blow to Laplace."

The shadows murmured in unison, astonished. The sounds were strange, almost like whispers floating in the air, filled with reverence for Narinder.

Heket approached, eating a piece of cake with her usual indifference. "Oh, come on, Shamura. You know it was just a little slip. I wasn't really going to lose my arm," she said, laughing softly.