Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 82: Quack quack quack

Narinder woke up with unusual calm, without the shock that his disturbing dreams usually brought. This time, thinking about the letter in the purple box did not cause him fear, but rather deep intrigue. It was as if the dream had shown him a new path, something he had to explore.

He got out of bed calmly, putting on his robe with automatic, almost obsessive movements. He went to the mirror, combing his fine black fur in silence, as he did every morning. He looked at his reflection, the same as always. He did not expect the mirror to give him answers, but that image was enough to start a conversation with himself.

—"Purple box with silver ribbon... could it have been a premonitory dream?" —he murmured, without taking his eyes off his own eyes. Even though he was a God, he knew he couldn't see the future, at least not in the literal sense, but this dream was different from the nightmares that had been tormenting him for a long time. It was something else, something that touched a part of him that he couldn't quite understand. "Purple, the color of Shamura... and silver, spider silk... is my mind playing tricks on me?"

As he continued to brush his hair, the details of the dream came back to him clearly. The feeling of urgency, of obsession with the red box with the golden bow, had no explanation now that he was awake. Why this need? In the dream, it seemed essential to have it, but now, logic prevailed, and he couldn't understand why he had felt so hungry to possess it.

And then, the other box... that purple box that, although threatening, continued to call him. There was something in its dangerousness that was attractive, as if it invited him to unravel a hidden power. It wasn't just a box; What she harbored seemed to be etched in her mind. It was a mystery that refused to go away, a challenge she knew she couldn't resist for long.

As she combed her hair, a slight smile appeared on her face as she remembered the castle and the lamb. That fleeting happiness of the dream gave her some peace, but at the same time, the weight of the tarot card settled back into her thoughts.

—"Maybe... it's not about choosing between them... maybe... they're both parts of something bigger," she said, in a low voice, as she put the comb aside and took one last look at her reflection. The day had just begun, but her mind was already searching for answers.

Narinder left his house with a determined step, the fresh morning air brushing his skin as he walked straight to the temple. There was no doubt in his mind, he knew what he had to do. Upon reaching the temple, he rang the bell, and the echo of its ringing traveled throughout the camp, calling the cultists to his congregation. It was still early, the sky just beginning to lighten, and his followers seemed surprised by the unusualness of the call.

They gathered quickly, looking at each other curiously, wondering what prompted Narinder to summon them at this hour. The air was thick with expectation, and Narinder, from the pulpit, watched them in silence for a few moments, as if measuring his words before speaking them. Then his voice rose, firm and solemn, deeper than usual.

"Fate," he began, his gaze fixed on some distant point, "is a force that has always existed. We have been told that it is written, that we cannot defy it, that it is immovable. But I tell you today... that is not true. Fate may exist, but it is not a chain that binds us. It is not for you, it is not for me."

The cultists listened attentively, some bowing their heads, others exchanging intrigued glances. But Narinder was not speaking only to themselves. Each word seemed to be directed at himself as well, as if he were processing, assimilating an internal truth that until then had remained hidden.

"In the past," he continued, "we were taught to submit, to accept our fate as inescapable. But in this new faith we have built together, we will not bend to anything. We will not submit, not to the old gods, not to the idea that everything is predestined. We have seen what the power of will can accomplish. Fate can be defied. We can shape it, change it, overcome it."