Ramael walked along the rock paths of the cult with a hand on his stomach, feeling it growl with hunger. He had become so immersed in his talk with Narinder that he hadn't even realized he hadn't eaten anything for most of the day.
His hooves clattered softly against the stone floor as he reached the large communal kitchen, where the cultists gathered to share meals. As he entered, the aroma of warm food enveloped him like a comforting blanket: cooked fish, freshly baked bread, fresh fruits.
He took a plate of cooked fish with some garnish and sat down at one of the long tables. From there, he watched the other cultists eat calmly, chatting amongst themselves with occasional smiles and laughter.
However, he soon noticed that one of the few he actually knew was missing.
A cultist whom he wanted to thank for facilitating his interaction with Narinder.
The haloed dog.
He frowned slightly as he took a bite of fish.
“Where is it?” he muttered to himself before continuing with his meal.
-
Meanwhile, in a cult hut, lit only by the dim light of flickering candles, the haloed dog opened the door and entered without waiting for a reply.
The inside of the hut was littered with sheets of paper, scattered everywhere, with poems written in dark ink. There were stacks of rolled up scrolls on the shelves, some so worn that their edges were damaged.
In the center of the room, a black raven wearing a homemade beret was leaning over a desk, writing with a fancy-looking quill.
The dog smiled and said in a jovial tone:
“Hey, hello, Edgar! Are you busy?”
The raven, upon hearing his name, immediately straightened up, turning around dramatically.
“Oh, hello! Is this noble canine looking for a poem?” he exclaimed theatrically, extending a wing and posing as if he were an artist in full performance.
The dog, accustomed to his exaggerated attitude, only sighed and sat down on one of the wooden chairs.
“I don’t come for poems,” he said, resting his elbows on the table. “I come for advice…”
The raven arched an eyebrow, but listened in silence.
“You see… I think I fell in love with the lady who takes care of the cult’s infants.”
Edgar blinked.
“She’s a beautiful squirrel… but I don’t know what to do,” the dog confessed, rubbing his snout in frustration.
Edgar narrowed his eyes and, with a fluid movement, dramatically placed a wing on his chest.
“Oh! Love!” he exclaimed with overflowing passion. “It is without a doubt the greatest force in the world!”
However, his tone suddenly changed. His eyes, normally full of theatricality, took on a more cunning gleam.
“Well…” he said, with a calculating air. “If I help you, I want you to help me in the future.”
Slowly, he picked up a poem and used it to cover his beak, but not enough to completely hide the sinister smile that spread across his face.
The dog, not noticing the sudden change in atmosphere in the room or the slight hint of cunning in the raven’s eyes, grinned from ear to ear with the innocence of a puppy. His tail began to wag excitedly as he exclaimed in a silly voice,
YOU ARE READING
Chains of Vengeance
FanfictionIn this story, Lambert, a lamb who has overcome great adversities, embarks on a journey to the Velo after defeating the fallen bishops. His goal: to reunite with Narinder, the true god of death. Rather than betray his deity, Lambert accepts his fate...
