Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 49: A Day Without Devotion

The party lasted until the sun peeked over the horizon. In an unusual gesture, Narinder had declared that day sacred—a day when none of his followers would need to work. For many, it was a much-needed relief after the intense celebration. Some stumbled from hangovers after drinking too much, their bodies weary from the bonfire, dancing, and singing that had lasted all night. It had been a long time since the cult enjoyed such a feast, though the hidden reason behind it was grim: the punishment and exile of Leshy.

After throwing his brother's staff into the fire, Narinder had withdrawn early. While his followers continued to celebrate around him, he felt a weight on his heart he couldn't ignore. Although he had achieved what he had long desired—sealing one of his brothers behind the veil—the satisfaction he had imagined never arrived. Instead, a deeper void consumed him.

Inside his home, Narinder dropped into his chair, his gaze fixed on the floor. The echo of his thoughts pained him, and though his exterior radiated authority and power, he was inwardly shattered. He had hoped that sealing Leshy would free him from the ghosts of the past, but instead of relief, he felt only remorse weighing him down.

For a millennium, he had wished for this moment, but nothing within him had changed. With a sigh that broke the silence of the room, Narinder picked up a strand of Weeber's hair—the only thing now capable of distracting his mind from the emotional chaos eating away at him.

He immersed himself in work, carefully crafting magical bracelets with precision. The only functioning prototype he had made so far was sealed away with Leshy, so he needed more. The manual, repetitive nature of his task became the only thing that calmed his mind. With each knot and weave, the painful thoughts faded for a moment, leaving him alone with the sound of his breathing and the feel of materials in his hands.

The night dragged on, but Narinder didn't stop. He worked tirelessly, his mind fully absorbed in the task. By the time the sun was high, and his cult began to stir from their hangovers, Narinder had finished his labor. Seven Weeber amulets lay on the table, each more refined than the last. Content with his work, he observed them in silence.

Though the pain still lingered inside, at least he had achieved something productive.

Since it was a sacred day of rest for everyone, Narinder decided to keep distracting himself. He headed to the kitchen—not out of necessity but to keep himself busy. He knew that if he allowed his thoughts to catch up with him, the weight of his actions would crush him.

The soft scent of ingredients filled the air, and the sound of the knife on the cutting board became a soothing rhythm. As he cooked, his mind focused only on the food. The precision of his movements, the selection of flavors—all of it wrapped him in a brief sense of peace. Every dish he prepared reflected his desire to keep his mind occupied, far from the chaos he had left behind. It was a simple task, yet it gave him a sense of purpose on what would otherwise have felt like an endless day.

In the background, he could hear his cult members enjoying their day off. No one came to pray at the statue or seek him at the temple for sermons. The devotion of the cult was on pause, which, under different circumstances, might have irritated Narinder. But today, he was grateful. No devotion meant no expectations, and without expectations, he could move freely.

Having prepared all the meals, Narinder felt an odd sense of satisfaction. Something about the scents and flavors gave him a moment of respite from his constant mental burden. With no sermon to deliver and no leadership duties to attend to, his thoughts drifted toward the portals.

Anura was calling him. With no further distractions available, Narinder took up his scythe and headed for the portals. The day of rest would continue, but he would not rest. Today, he would embark on a new crusade.