Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 119: Order

Narinder walked through the area of ​​the portals with a sure step, until he stopped in front of the portal to Darkwood. The familiar dark mist enveloped him as he crossed, and on the other side, he was greeted by the dense forest with its tall trees and leaves that barely let the light through. Narinder readied his sickle, and his aura of death intensified like a silent warning, but he quickly noticed something unusual in the environment. Unlike before, the forest was almost eerily calm; there were no traces of heretics or the usual atmosphere charged by the cult of chaos. The air was purer and calmer, and every step he took felt as if Darkwood had transformed into a much more peaceful place since his last visit.

Narinder advanced through the trees, looking for Haro to claim his crown, when he stopped before a curious scene: a white bunny hanging asleep in a spider web. He recognized it immediately.

"Fera? What happened?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The rabbit woke up, and upon noticing Narinder, he woke up and freed himself from the web with ease. "Oh, wait," he said with a mischievous grin. "Don't think I got trapped. I usually pretend to be trapped to attract some prey that wants to 'rescue' me." His grin revealed his sharp teeth.

Narinder nodded, understanding that in Darkwood, even hunting games were deceptive. "Interesting tactic," he commented, without losing his cool.

Then, Narinder moved on to the important thing. "Tell me, do you know how to cook hearts?"

Fera's eyes immediately sparkled, and his lips curved into a ravenous grin, showing his sharp teeth again as he licked his lips. "But of course! I have many recipes! Although, raw and beating doesn't taste bad at all," he replied, with a tone that betrayed his taste for such dishes.

Narinder smiled, pleased to see Fera's enthusiasm.

Narinder reached into his robes and pulled out one of the four heretic hearts he had obtained as a reward. The organ was imposing, large as few hearts are, and it still faintly pulsated in his hand, its beats filling the air with a sombre sound. The heart was covered in small, sharp spikes that seemed to sprout from the very flesh, as if its owner's hatred and resistance had been physically embedded within it.

Fera, seeing the heart, widened his eyes in wonder and leaned forward a little further, clearly intrigued and excited. "I've seen hundreds of hearts," he murmured, examining each detail with barely concealed hunger, "but... I've never seen one so large, still pulsating... and with... spikes?" The rabbit displayed a mixture of disbelief and delight, and his tongue quickly passed over his sharp teeth, as if he were already tasting the promise of such a peculiar delicacy.

Narinder smiled and extended the heart a little further, almost as if it were offering him a temptation. "As payment for cooking it," he said in a calm voice, "you can have the blood, but the meat is one hundred percent mine."

Fera cocked his head, clearly somewhat disappointed, though the expectation never left his gaze. "I see that this is not a negotiable offer... though that meat looks incredibly appetizing," he commented, trying to smile casually, though his eyes revealed a latent ambition.

Narinder let out a light laugh and, with a malicious look and an intensity in his eyes that turned as red as the heart itself, he replied, "Don't worry. I know you wouldn't steal from me... after all, you prefer to have me as an ally..." His tone darkened, and the air around them seemed to become dense, oppressive. Pressure emanated from Narinder with a force that could have crushed the rabbit if he had wanted it. "...because I know you don't want me as an enemy."

Fera gulped, and her nervous smile betrayed that the message had been understood without the need for further words. "U-understood..." she said, forcing a smile as she tried to compose herself. "I also have recipes for blood... you can use it."

Narinder, regaining his carefree tone, gave her a pleased smile and relaxed the atmosphere. "It's good that we can communicate," he commented with a tone that was almost affable again.

Fera laughed nervously and rubbed his paws, looking at the heart with renewed concentration, ready to work on the strange and challenging dish.

Narinder gave a dry and resonant clap that echoed in the room, and immediately caught Fera's full attention. The rabbit gave a little jump, his long ears pricked as he turned his nervous gaze towards Narinder, like a student caught in a truancy.

Narinder, his expression somewhere between serious and dangerous, said in an authoritative tone, "Well, I'll leave it to you to cook. I'll be back here in about three or four hours. I expect you to be present... or else you'll be hunted again." He finished his threat with a sly grin, a glint of dark amusement shining in his eyes.

Fera nodded nervously, still savoring the anticipation in her heart, but clearly getting the message. With one last glance at the rabbit, Narinder turned and began walking again, leaving behind the heavy air that permeated the small makeshift kitchen.

As he continued his journey, Narinder came upon a hallway adorned with depictions of relics hanging on either side. Intrigued, he moved forward and recognized that he had arrived at the hall of Chemach, the mysterious and peculiar keeper of knowledge about relics. Chemach, a blue-cloaked blackpaw who always seemed to know more than he was letting on, was busy polishing a relic that looked like an ancient ceremonial seal.

Narinder cleared his throat and bowed respectfully, "Greetings, Chemach."

Chemach turned slowly, and with a deep, breathy laugh that echoed through the room, he replied, "Ho, ho, ho... it is the ancient chained one. What brings you to my room?"

Wasting no time, Narinder pulled out his own relic, his sharp, red claw, and placed it delicately in front of Chemach, eager to hear his opinion. "My claw is now complete. What do you think?"

Chemach, his eyes shining with madness, looked at the relic. And in a fit of rage, he shouted, as if speaking directly to the room, "HORROR, PAIN, REVENGE AND REGRET!" His voice echoed through the room, charged with emotion and a strange sense of devotion. She seemed possessed, her eyes wide and fixed on the claw.

Narinder took a step back, not having expected such an intense reaction.

Chemach, his gaze fixed on the claw, continued, "Suffer! The relic suffers!"

Narinder let out a sigh, letting it out like a weight, and looked at Chemach with a weary expression. "Is that all you have to say? It seems that the black ducks only know how to criticize my... achievements," he commented in a tone that was somewhat mocking, but also a little bitter, as if his comment was trying to hide something deeper.

Calmly, he took his relic back, observing it under the dim light of the room. "I know that I have committed dark deeds," he continued, his voice taking on a more solemn tone, "and those deeds will always accompany me. I do not try to justify what I did... I am not blind to the blood on my hands."

Chemach, with his enigmatic gaze and raspy voice, answered, "Your relic carries a pain that is almost tangible. Has that weight... really given you the happiness you seek?"

Narinder was silent for a few moments, reflecting deeply, and finally answered, with an intensity that filled the room. "What I did with this relic did not bring me happiness... but vengeance. It was a fury that consumed me, a fire that burned without offering relief. My goals took me far, but neither victory nor punishment gave me what I expected. However," and here his tone rose, imbued with an almost defiant determination, "I have found unexpected joy, something I never thought could be mine. Yes, I will live with the guilt, I will bear the weight of my decisions and the anguish that brings. But, despite that, I will live happily. Because I know that, in the midst of that darkness, I have something that is truly worthwhile."

Chemach tilted his head, his expression mixing a touch of mockery and resignation. "It will never be a perfect relic," he murmured, as if seeking to point out the contradiction in Narinder's words.

Narinder nodded, not a hint of regret in his eyes. "I know."

With those words as a conclusion, Narinder turned on his heel, leaving the room in silence, for his mission was not yet over. He had to find Haro, the owl, and he knew that the search would take him deeper into the Darkwood.