Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 80: Tranquility

Narinder continued his journey through Silk Cradle to the entrance of the Temple of War, where the air was heavier and the atmosphere thicker, almost as if the very atmosphere foreshadowed the confrontation that was about to happen. Although his mind was calmer after his interaction with Fera and Helob, he knew that he could not let his guard down.

Before him stood the grotesque corrupted form of Vephar, an amalgam of millipede and poisonous spider, its segmented body riddled with green pustules that constantly oozed, staining the ground in its path with a viscous poison. Its eight black eyes, with red pupils in the shape of a cross, watched him with a mixture of fury and hunger. Vephar's red antennae waved in the air, while its legs, dyed a reddish color, creaked with each movement.

Wasting no time, Vephar launched a jet of venom at Narinder, which he dodged with feline agility. The spikes on its body bristled, launching razor-sharp projectiles that impacted the ground, leaving deep scars on the rocks. Narinder unsheathed his sickle, slicing through the air, disintegrating the poisonous bullets that Vephar spat with deadly precision.

The creature moved back and forth, fast and deadly, leaving a trail of corrosive poison in its wake. But Narinder was not to be intimidated. With an agile leap, he landed on one of Vephar's legs, and with a precise cut, he severed one of its limbs. The monster howled in pain, writhing violently, but that only increased its fury. It lashed out with its spikes, seeking to catch Narinder in its deadly dance.

Narinder, however, remained focused. He knew that any carelessness would cost him dearly. He leapt back just in time to avoid a shower of poison that shot out from Vephar's pustules. Then, charging up all his energy, he leapt forward, heading for the monster's heart.

With a quick, precise movement, his sickle pierced the millipede's thick shell. Vephar thrashed violently, but it was too late. Narinder drove his weapon deep into the millipede, and with a final cut, destroyed its heart. Vephar's body collapsed, slowly disintegrating, as the poison evaporated into the air, leaving only silence.

From among the creature's remains, Narinder found what he had come to find: the tear of god.

Without wasting any more time, Narinder closed his eyes and, with a gentle gesture, teleported back to his cult, leaving the battlefield behind.

Narinder looked at the sky and noticed that the sun was already beginning to set on the horizon, dyeing the sky orange and reddish hues. He took a moment to process the passage of time; he really found it difficult to understand how much had passed since he left for Silk Cradle. The hours slipped by without him noticing, especially on his crusades where adrenaline and his focus on battle kept him disconnected from the everyday world.

Feeling a strange calm, he decided to walk through his cult. He first headed to the kitchen, where one of his errand boys, a diligent dog he had personally chosen, was cooking quickly and skillfully. Narinder watched him silently for a moment, watching him chop ingredients and stir pots with quick but precise movements. Despite his divine power, Narinder admired the small mortal skills, those that demonstrated a different dexterity than his own, something more earthly.

After a brief pause, he continued his tour of the cult. He was in a good mood after the battle, and for the first time in what felt like days, he wanted to interact with his cultists. As he walked, some greeted him with respect and reverence, bowing their heads or stopping in their work to offer words of thanks and adoration. Narinder smiled briefly at them, returning their greetings. Though he still felt a lingering emptiness inside, he gave them some time at that moment.

He approached small groups of cultists, some praying, others chatting amongst themselves. He even took the time to bless some of them, touching their foreheads with his claws, which made his followers glow with a renewed radiance. Narinder, despite his inner torments, enjoyed these moments of connection. They were not the deep interactions he longed for, but at least, for an instant, he managed to shut off his dark thoughts.

He decided to sit in one of the cult's open areas, where some of his followers were gathering around a small campfire. Night was near, and the atmosphere felt peaceful. Although he was the leader, the god they worshipped, at that moment he allowed himself to be a part of their community.

Narinder sat quietly, watching his cultists as they went about their daily lives. Laughter, murmurs, and the crackling of wood in the fire filled the air. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting the gentle wind caress his face and the sound of the crackling fire relax him. It was a moment of calm he hadn't allowed himself to enjoy in days.

He still remembered his talk with Fera. Something about the way the rabbit talked about his food, how he savored life on his own terms, had struck him. Narinder didn't share those cannibalistic tastes, but he did understand what it meant to find joy in the little things. That simple conversation had been a reminder that, despite everything he was and what he carried on his shoulders, life had moments worth savoring.

With a slight smile, he let his mind wander to the moments after his release from the Veil. The feeling of freedom, of no longer being chained, filled him with a tranquility he barely remembered. The weight of the chains no longer oppressed his body or his spirit. Although he had always been the god of death, immortal and powerful, he remembered that not everything in existence had to be a conflict, a constant struggle against his inner demons.

Narinder opened his eyes for a brief moment and looked around. No one seemed to pay much attention to him; his cultists were busy, chatting amongst themselves or going about their daily chores. Feeling that he was alone for a few moments, he allowed himself to do something he hadn't done in a while. With a sigh, he pulled a small piece of wool from the pocket of his crown. The soft texture between his fingers brought him an unexpected peace. He closed his eyes again, stroking the wool with a genuine smile, one he had almost forgotten he could feel.

Narinder brought the piece of wool to his nose and closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. The scent the wool gave off enveloped him like a soft, familiar caress. It was a warm scent, with soft notes of lamb, a smell that transported him to another time, even if it was filled with challenges and chains. That scent, so pure and natural, seeped into his mind like a balm, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a deep peace that made him forget everything.

The smell of lamb lingered in the wool like a persistent echo of someone who was no longer there, but who was somehow still present in his life. That small vestige filled him with an indescribable warmth, a kind of comfort that he didn't think he could experience again. He felt a warmth spreading through his chest, something he hadn't felt in a while, and, without realizing it, a slight, genuine smile appeared on his face. That scent was a reminder that not everything in his existence was lost. There was something beyond the fight, something beyond revenge.

He blushed slightly as he remembered the lamb, and although the thought of its death was still present, it no longer tormented him as it had before. He had accepted the fact that the lamb was gone, but instead of dragging him into despair, he now saw it with a tranquility that surprised him.

"I hope you at least have peace wherever your soul ends up," she whispered softly, as if those words could pierce the veil of time and space, reaching the lamb wherever it was. Narinder held the wool more tenderly, as if it were a precious relic than it once was, and in that instant, the world around him faded away.

It was a moment of calm that he allowed himself to enjoy completely. There was no rush, no plans, no betrayals. Just that little piece of wool and the scent that gave him back something he had thought lost: the feeling of being at peace with himself, if only for an instant.

Despite all the hatred and worries he carried, in that moment, under the tinted evening sky, Narinder found a small respite. Perhaps, he thought, he could still find his own happiness, in his own way.