Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 104: Dream or Nightmare

In Narinder's dream, he found himself in the same castle as always, one that appeared in his dreams from time to time, but this time something was different. The halls, always shrouded in gloom and melancholy, were illuminated by a warm golden light that enveloped every corner in a soft, comforting glow. The walls, adorned with bright tapestries and intricate gold details, seemed to shimmer as if they were alive, breathing with a serene energy.

Around him, the faceless shadows, who in previous dreams had merely watched with a mysterious air, now danced and laughed softly. Their movements seemed to reflect an ancient joy, as if they were celebrating some unknown triumph, something that resonated in the deepest corners of Narinder. The echo of their laughter filled the halls, and soft music seemed to emanate from the very walls, enveloping him in a sense of peace and belonging.

As he reached a large golden room, his heart skipped a beat. There was Lambert, his lamb, waiting in the center of the room, illuminated by the warm light falling from a high stained glass window. Lambert smiled, and before he could think, Narinder ran towards him, his steps light, guided by the pure emotion of finding himself together in this magical place.

Upon reaching him, Narinder let himself be carried away, hugging him tightly and, after a tender kiss, they both began to dance. Their movements were soft and synchronized, as if they had rehearsed this dance a thousand times in a distant memory. The lamb led him with a natural grace, and Narinder let himself be carried away, completely forgetting his worries.

The room seemed to expand around them, transforming into a limitless space of golden light and reflections. Their figures, wrapped in golden shadows, turned and intertwined as if they were one, moving to the rhythm of a melody that seemed to emerge from their own hearts. Around them, the shadows danced as well, clapping silently, celebrating the reunion of two souls destined to meet.

It was a dream, but at that moment, it felt more real than anything. For Narinder, in those golden halls and next to the lamb in his arms, only the present existed. For the first time in a long time, everything seemed perfect, like a reflection of a happiness he still had hope of achieving.

The lamb ran fast, its hooves echoing on the floor of the castle halls as it laughed with contagious joy. Narinder, with a calm smile and sparkling eyes, followed it at a light trot, enjoying that innocent game. From time to time he made a feint of catching up with it, extending a paw without actually touching it, only to see the lamb turn corners and spin around with more enthusiasm.

As he chased it, the echo of their laughter resonated in the castle like an ancient melody that filled every corner with life. However, as he turned a hallway, Narinder stopped abruptly. There, in front of him, were four doors that seemed to come from a forgotten nightmare.

Each door had the image of a crown engraved on it, the emblem of each of his brothers. However, unlike the splendor of the rest of the castle, the doors were made of worn and rotten wood, with thick rusty chains surrounding them as if trying to contain something dark and ominous. A viscous substance, black as ichor with blood, slid across the floor from the doors, expanding like liquid shadows.

For an instant, the memory of his brothers and the shadows of the past invaded him. Narinder blinked, a mix of emotions crossing his mind, but when he opened his eyes again, the doors had disappeared, leaving the hallway as if nothing had happened.

Not wanting to lose the moment, he shook his head, turned and continued running after the lamb, who was still laughing and waiting for him in the distance.

Finally, they came to an open door, different from the others. Narinder paused, intrigued, and peered inside to see a dark, quiet room, barely lit by the soft light filtering in from the hallway. In the center of the room was an antique table, and on it rested two gift boxes.

The red box was open, its contents already claimed, but the purple box, untouched, seemed to beckon him with a mystery yet to be revealed. Narinder stared at it and froze, his breathing growing increasingly rapid and ragged as his gaze remained fixed on the purple box with the silver ribbon. Something about it caused him a strange obsession, a burning impulse that was almost beyond his control. It was as if the box was calling to him, drawing him in with a magnetic force impossible to ignore. He wanted it for himself, with a desperate intensity that filled every fiber of his being.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Narinder leaned down and lifted the lid. As soon as he did, a sea of ​​tarot cards began to pour out of the box, as if they were alive, floating through the air in an endless torrent. Startled, he stepped back, watching in awe as the torrent of cards spread out, filling the floor around him. The feeling of anxiety increased, as each card seemed to glow with dark symbols and disturbing omens. He had unlocked something far beyond his understanding, and that certainty made his fur stand on end.

At that moment, he heard hoofsteps approaching, the sound that would normally have calmed him. "Lambert..." he murmured, not taking his eyes off the cards that kept coming out. But when he looked up, his words caught in his throat. In front of him was not Lambert, but a gigantic shadow that barely had a defined shape.

It was like the lamb, but he did not know it. The figure was a blur of shadows, a being shrouded in deep, dense darkness, so impenetrable that it was impossible to make out any details, except for the eyes: two red pits that shone with unnatural intensity. The curved horns emerged from its head like two elongated shadows, adding a terrifying presence that reminded him of a primal, ancient creature.

Above the shadow's head, a crown rose, similar to Shamura's, imposing and ominous. With a huge purple eye it opened, and Narinder felt how that gaze fell upon him, judging him, penetrating to the depths of his soul. It was as if that figure saw every secret, every mistake, every shadow of his past. The weight of that gaze made him tremble, and a cold fear ran through his body, leaving him paralyzed.

Unable to look away, Narinder felt how every doubt, every regret, every fragment of his soul seemed exposed before that presence. He knew that he was being measured, evaluated, judged in silence. At that moment, he understood that he could not flee, nor hide. Before that eye, all his fears and shadows were laid bare, and he could only await the verdict of that enigmatic entity.

The rooster's crow resounded softly, and Narinder slowly opened his eyes, as if awakening from a deep and peaceful sleep. Still immersed in that morning mist, he noticed that he was lying on Lambert's chest. A soft smile appeared on his lips as he recognized the sensation of the warm, fluffy wool under his face, the unmistakable scent of his beloved lamb enveloping him in a soothing warmth.

Without thinking, Narinder buried his face a little deeper into Lambert's wool, closing his eyes to savor that moment. The softness gave him a peace like no other, a refuge that calmed his mind and eased the weight on his heart. Slowly, he let out a deep, almost involuntary purr as he lost himself in that shared serenity.

For a while, he remained like that, listening to the slow rhythm of Lambert's breathing, feeling his beloved's chest rise and fall gently under his head. His claws caressed the wool tenderly, each small gesture laden with love and gratitude. The morning light streamed through the window, bathing them in a gentle warmth, and Narinder felt that in that instant everything was in perfect harmony.

It was a simple moment, but for Narinder, it was enough. With Lambert at his side, he felt the weight of his mistakes and the torments of his past dissolve, leaving him only the present, full of love and peace.