Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 100: Do Evil

Warning: Romantic Sex

Night had settled over the cult, plunging it into total calm as stars adorned the sky. Narinder, after bidding farewell to his cultists and collecting the moon necklaces of some, found himself alone with Lambert, both holding hands, walking towards the house that from that moment on they would share until the end of time.

Lambert, blushing and filled with a mix of excitement and nostalgia, felt the tingle of seeing his home again, although changed in subtle ways since Narinder had begun to inhabit it. Everything seemed the same and different at the same time. It was his home, but now he felt it as shared as his own.

Narinder, upon entering, took off his robe and sat on the bed, which seemed even larger in the dim light. He looked at Lambert with a slight expression of shame, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability that he rarely let on. "I'm sorry if I overstepped today..." he confessed, his voice tinged with an uncommon sincerity. "Truth be told... I think I'm a little crazy, and when I saw you walking from the shadows of the mystic... I just wanted to have you for myself..."

Lambert smiled softly, unbuttoning his cloak and setting his bell aside. He sat down next to him, his eyes shining with understanding and affection. "Well," Lambert said, his gentle tone filling the room with warmth, "I think it's time for a talk, don't you think?"

Narinder nodded, and for the first time in a long time, he felt no fear. He trusted Lambert completely, more than anyone else in the world. There were words he had never spoken and feelings he had rarely allowed himself to explore. And now, here, next to him, everything seemed easier to say, to let go of.

Lambert and Narinder sat on the bed, a heavy silence falling between them, as if the words were trapped between them, unable to escape. However, Lambert was the first to break the silence, his voice full of courage and some shyness.

"My life as a mortal, before I met you and you lent me the red crown, was... very difficult," he began, swallowing, as if reliving those memories required extra strength.

Narinder felt the pain in each of Lambert's words, and a weight of guilt began to settle on him, although he tried to hide it.

Lambert continued, his voice cracking with bitter nostalgia. "I don't remember my parents much... Only that my whole life was a constant escape from the Old Faith. People looked at me with contempt. They said that having a sheep around was a risk, because the Old Faith did everything to hunt us down and extinguish us... all because of that prophecy."

Narinder looked down, knowing exactly what prophecy he was talking about. That ancient warning that a lamb would end the Old Faith and release He Who Waits, and Narinder... Narinder was that prisoner in the veil. Though he had not created the prophecy, he felt the weight of its existence on Lambert's shoulders.

"Oh, don't worry," Lambert added, as if sensing his companion's tension. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't create the prophecy... you were trapped in the veil, chained to something you couldn't control."

Narinder nodded, and that simple statement gave him some peace. The reassurance that Lambert understood, that he held no grudge, was a balm to his troubled spirit. Lambert continued, his eyes clouding over with memory.

"In the end, I found a farm that gave me shelter. In exchange, I had to give them my wool, for sheep's wool became a luxury item..." He paused, pain and resentment creeping into his voice. "But in the end, they handed me over to the Old Faith."

Lambert looked down, caught in that painful moment, and Narinder, understanding the weight of those memories, gently took his hand, in an attempt to comfort him.