"The strength of the flock is the lamb, the strength of the lamb is the flock."
Perhaps the Crimson Eye had worked a bit too well, for Eve wasn't entirely sure where the heavy, blank book alongside the pedestal had appeared. She had expected the crown to restore the building's exterior to what it once was, politely removing from her the burden of forcing her three new cultist to construct such a large monument on their own. What she hadn't expected was the sermon book and the additional stairs, though when she peered up at the window and realized it had been crafted in the Red Crown's image, it made a slight bit more sense.
She wasn't sure what it was the crown expected of her - she could speak but such an act was... painful, grating. It made her throat burn and her head spin as additional power from the crown flowed through her, likely burning energy to keep her alive as well as move her vocal chords.
Speak as you will and you shall be heard, whispered the Crimson Eye and the stunned look on Amdusias' face came to mind.
The Lady of Hunger could speak even with her throat torn asunder and her gut split open, she remembers. Though the toad did not speak as often as she once did, the wounds flaring, flaring with puss and maggots when she made such attempts but though the words uttered were stuttered and interspersed, they were comprehensible, understandable. Will you allow such bypassment?
I will grant you far greater than that, the Crimson Eye promised. The wounds that afflict The Starving One were granted by my bearer and master and so cannot be circumvented. Your pain was caused by a mortal blade - and you speak, not with your tongue but with your palms. Speak and you shall be heard, Lamb and Omen.
The blank book rose into the air, opening before the now assembled members up the cult as she followed the creation into the air. She tilted her head head, allowing the power to surge through her veins and bleed into the tips of her fingers.
She could feel, taste the awe, the wonder and faith rising out of the followers and shooting towards herself.
You still think of them as 'the' followers.
They are not mine, this cult is not mine and their Faith is not mine to use.
...you are an intriguing one, Bearer of my Power. Allow their devotion to fill your heart, take it into your body - if you claim not the Faith of these mortals, then feed that Faith into me.
As you wish it so, Crimson Eye and True Lord of Death.
