Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 163: Comfort

Narinder felt the cold ground beneath his feet as he looked out at the endless white landscape around him. The air was thick and cold, as if embraced by an icy fog, and everything around him lacked any definite form. He seemed to be suspended between life and death, a limbo in which light and shadow had been extinguished. He looked down at his hands, untouched, with no sign of the corruption that once marked his body. Even his breathing was steady. "Am I dead?" he thought, though what he saw didn't fit with any vision he'd ever had of the afterlife. There was nothing around him, no sign of the ram, nor of the pain that had tormented him.

As his thoughts began to settle, he stumbled upon something solid. He looked down and saw a cut log, something so mundane that it confused him deeply. If he was dead, he shouldn't feel or see it, much less stumble upon it. "Am I... alive?" He muttered aloud, his mind struggling to find logic in what was happening.

He raised his hand in an automatic gesture, snapping his fingers, and instantly the dog appeared with the dawn, a plate of vegetables in his mouth, which he spat out onto the ground at the sight. "Oh, my lord! Why did you summon me?" the dog asked, clearly surprised.

Narinder, frustrated, exclaimed, "Where am I?!" The dog, confused, looked around. "Um... I think the lumberyard. Gosh! I don't blame you for being disoriented. This fog is some of the thickest I've seen in years. You can barely see."

Narinder released the dog in disbelief, processing what he heard. This made no sense. He clearly remembered the ram's last attack, that brilliant explosion, and the crushing weight of defeat he felt at the last instant. His mind went back to that ram's smile, not the smile of a sore loser, but of someone who refused to give up. But now he was there, alive and healed, as if the duel had never happened.

The emotional impact began to catch up with him. The tension built up during the test, the repressed fear he had proudly held until the last moment, all weighed on him now. His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees on the ground. For an instant, he wanted to cry, to release that torrent of emotions that overwhelmed him, but strong hands caught him before he fell completely.

"I found a cute little cat," said a familiar voice, deep and full of warmth. Narinder looked up, and there was Goliath, with a mocking but kind smile, holding him with ease.

Tears began to slide down Narinder's face, something he rarely allowed, but in front of Goliath he felt no need to hide. There was something about the goat's presence, its quiet strength and warmth, that gave him the confidence to show himself vulnerable.

Goliath looked at him with a mix of surprise and concern. "Uh? What happened? Who died?" he said in a playful tone, trying to ease the tension he felt in the air, although he wasn't entirely sure what was happening.

Narinder, his eyes trembling slightly and his expression serious, replied, "I think... it was me." His words were dense, laden with a melancholy that seemed impossible to alleviate. Without saying another word, he leaned towards Goliath and hid his face in the goat's broad chest, letting his face touch the scar that marked his mate. The heat of Goliath's body was comforting, moist and earthy, as if it carried with it the very essence of effort. Despite everything, that masculine and familiar scent managed to calm some of Narinder's emotional chaos.

Goliath blinked, clearly taken aback by Narinder's statement. He didn't quite understand what his god had meant, but his instincts told him it was time to comfort. "Ehm... you're quite alive right now, in my opinion," he said with an attempt at lightness, though his tone was gentle. His large hands, normally rough and firm, began to caress the back of Narinder's neck with unexpected gentleness.

Narinder was shaking slightly, his body finally giving in to physical and emotional exhaustion. The adrenaline he had sustained during the duel was gone, and the realization of how close he had come to losing everything was washing over him completely. Goliath sensed it, noticing the fragility the god of death rarely showed. Without hesitation, he lifted him into his arms with ease, as if he were an insignificant weight, and began to walk steadily towards a nearby hut he used during his training.