Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 131: The Bond of Three Souls

The crowing of a rooster echoed throughout the cult, marking the start of a new morning. The air had a freshness that had not been felt in days; the oppressive heat wave had finally subsided, leaving a mild and pleasant climate. A light breeze stirred the leaves of the nearby trees, and the first rays of the sun illuminated the newly placed decorations, giving them a warm and revitalizing glow. The cultists began to emerge from their huts, yawning and stretching, while the animals of the cult awoke to a concert of morning sounds.

In the healing room, Narinder closed the thick book on mushrooms after reaching about 54% of its content. Despite having spent the entire night reading by candlelight, he felt surprisingly fresh. He had avoided the nightmares and hallucinations he so feared, and the experience left him with a sense of calm that was rare for him. He looked at Lambert's calm face and Goliath's sturdy body, still deep in sleep.

He rose from his chair with fluid movements and walked over to the bed. With unusual serenity, he sat on the edge and began to stroke the fluffy wool of Lambert, who was closest. His fingers slid slowly, enjoying the soft, comforting texture. "It's better than stroking a cloud," Narinder thought, a light smile barely showing on his face.

After a while, Lambert began to laugh in his sleep, his small giggles erupting involuntarily. The caresses tickled him, and his body moved slightly in response. Narinder tenderly watched the scene, stopping to enjoy every moment before Lambert finally opened his eyes, still laughing.

"Good morning, Narinder..." Lambert said, in a sleepy voice, stretching lazily while still smiling.

The movement woke Goliath, who frowned as his eyes adjusted to the morning light. His deep voice echoed through the room as he asked,

"Ugh... What time is it...?" Still half asleep, he yawned and tightened his hold on Lambert, as if he wanted to fall back into sleep.

Narinder stood still for a moment, feeling his heart race. It was the first time he had seen Goliath wake up, and there was something surprisingly charming about his disheveled appearance: the disheveled hair, the half-lidded eyes, and the vulnerable expression of one who was not yet fully conscious. To Narinder, that sight was unique and genuine, a facet of the goat he had not anticipated.

With an automatic gesture, he let out a light laugh before speaking in his usual firm tone, though filled with an affection he could not hide:

"It is time for you to get up, you pair of lazybones. The cult does not run itself."

But his gaze softened as he watched them, both still tangled up in each other, enjoying the quiet of the moment. "Stay like that a little longer," he thought, allowing himself the luxury of watching them for a few more minutes before insisting they get ready for the day.

Lambert reluctantly stood up, dragging his hooves as he tried to shake off the drowsiness that still gripped him. His barely open eyes reflected the effort of staying awake, though his body already felt lighter and more relaxed after the rest. With slow movements, he took up his red cloak and golden bell, carefully adjusting them while still yawning.

Goliath, on the other hand, remained in bed, folding his hands behind his head with a carefree expression. He looked completely comfortable, as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon. His coarse, grey fur was slightly disheveled, but that didn't worry him.

"Well, it wouldn't be a bad idea if a couple of cultists came to pamper me," he said in his deep voice, dropping each word with intent. "Maybe one to give me massages and another to bring me drinks and food."

Lambert, as he finished adjusting his cloak, replied in a firm but calm tone:

"Everyone has to earn their place in the cult, even you, Goliath."