Chapter Text
Bishop Narinder, dominion over death, cared little for the trivial nature of prophecy.
Yes, Shamura had done much good in heeding the warnings of their visions but summoning them all felt like a waste.
Narinder had plans, you see, ambitions, goals, wants and needs. Needs that the old faith had yet to fulfill, it was shameful to deny death its dues. Time spent discussing concerns about an event that may or may not occur was just that, a waste.
Yet the dark god attended anyway. He loved his siblings despite their rather obvious weaknesses and flaws.
Leshy, dominion over order and chaos, his childish nature and foolishness were the easiest flaw to point out.
Heket, dominion over feast and famine, arrogance was obviously her greatest fault.
Kallamar, dominion over pestilence and cure, his cowardice risks getting them all killed someday.
And Shamura, dominion over war and knowledge…
Shamura had flaws of course, but Narinder had to admit they weren’t as glaringly obvious as his brothers and sister’s flaws. Perhaps this whole meeting was proof of a flaw, paying too much mind to what ifs.
The god rose out of the floor, stepping forth into the temple. The loyal worshippers of his brother bowed upon his arrival. He paid them no mind. With a robe as black as coal wrapped around his form, accidented only with rusted gold and a silken black veil over his three red eyes, he moved through the temple with purpose. He stood several heads above any mere follower. Head and gaze held high, paying no mind to the mortals moving out of his way.
“Brother.” A familiar click of a fanged maw and mandibles greeted him upon entering the room.
“Brother.” Narinder greeted back with a small bow of his head.
His other siblings were already gathered around the room. Kallamar stood beside Shamura, two of his hands nervously fiddling with one another. Heket had taken a plate of offered food from a cultist and was gorging herself in the corner of the room. Leshy was leaning back in one of the seats looking visibly bored already.
Narinder walked past Heket, swiping one of her ripe fruits from her plate and letting it rot in his pawed hand, digging his claws in before tossing the horrible thing aside. Someone else could clean it up. Heket croaked in obvious discontent and Narinder just grinned back at her. He moved to stand before Shamura, taking a silent moment to look over the god of war.
They looked… stressed.
“Now that we have all gathered,” Shamura spoke up and gathered the bishops’ attention, “I would like to inform you all of… a most concerning vision I had.”
Leshy stood up from his seat and Heket removed herself from the corner of the room, both moving to stand before Shamura. Leshy on Narinder’s left and Heket on his right.
The frog of famine elbowed Narinder’s stomach, “that’s for my fruit,” she whispered. Narinder just chuckled in response, shooting his sister a playful glare and grin.
Shamura cleared their throat, making Narinder and Heket straighten up and return their focus.
“What was the vision about, brother?” Kallamar asked, his two eyes focused on the eldest sibling.
The spider sighed “… Five becomes four becomes three becomes two becomes one becomes nothing…” they whispered before straightening up. “I foresaw the fall of the old faith.”
“What?? That is not possible. That cannot be!” Kallamar was quick to say, gripping his robe in obvious panic.
Heket moved to stand closer to Kallamar, resting a hand on his shoulder in hopes of calming the squid.
“Are you certain?” Narinder asked, his voice calm despite the news.
“Yes.” Shamura responds, “in my vision one of us betrayed their siblings.”
Kallamar’s panic went silent.
In fact, all the bishops went still. This news, this shock, sinking in.
For everyone but Narinder, “how can you be so certain, Shamura?” The cat pressed, his arms folding beneath his cloak.
Shamura looked at him with… something. Fear? Anger? Pity?
The dark god wasn’t sure.
“I saw us, then a tomb. One of us would be imprisoned for a heretical betrayal, the betrayer – the one who waits – would find a vessel to free themselves. In doing so, they will kill each and every one of us.” The spider continued, trying to keep their composure.
“Who is the traitor???” Kallamar almost begged.
“I…” The god of war made eye contact with Narinder, “… I do not know.”
Heket and Kallamar noticed Shamura’s lingering gaze and turned their eyes towards Narinder.
“Then what can we do?” The worm of chaos asked, his single eye still focused on his eldest sibling.
“I am… unsure at the moment. I need time to rest, to learn more. Then we will determine a course of action.” Shamura responds, mandibles clicking together in thought.
“Then why bother to gather us in the first place?” Narinder responds with a roll of his three eyes.
“I simply wished to warn you.” Shamura responds with a glare, “you would do well to heed it brother.”
Narinder scoffed before responding, “yes, brother.”
Shamura waved their hand, dismissing the other bishops. Narinder took the opportunity to teleport back to his own temple, promptly sinking into the floor.
Upon his arrival loyal followers around were quick to bow their heads, he ignored them as he strolled deeper into the temple. He passed many cultists, some praying, some working, some even attempted to speak with him. All were ignored. The god of death kept a blank-faced glare until he reached his personal quarters within the temple.
“… A betrayer huh?” Narinder whispered to himself, he tossed his crown onto the large bed made for his divine figure and walked to the absurdly large mirror. It was hard to deny the excitement that bubbled inside.
He knew the old faith kept him confined. Only one temple, he didn’t even have a physical realm for his followers like his siblings, having to rely on said siblings for supplies in order to keep the limited number of worshippers he had alive and dutiful. The idea of complete control over the land was… tempting. To have all mortal eyes on him and him alone. To be the one true divine.
But Narinder did not wish to harm his family.
Shamura did say this traitor would kill each of his siblings…
But then again… he was death. He could simply revive them after the fact…
The god of death carefully removed his veil and left it hanging on the mirror. He then removed his large robe, letting it fall to the floor. His followers would have a clean robe prepared for him by the time he stirred, that was already guaranteed.
He moved the crown to the nightstand before laying down on the bed. What an idea indeed.
Now gods do not need sleep. Many gods go their entire existence without such a frivolous thing. However, rest was encouraged by Shamura, whenever Narinder was unsure of what to do his older brother would tell him to sleep on it. It was an annoying habit he had developed but it had its uses. Taking time to consider his options was good.
He did not wish to hurt his siblings.
But it was hard to deny the craving for more. This hunger of his.
So Narinder took time to make himself comfortable, lighting a candle by his bedside before closing his eyes.
‘Four broken crowns, five bishops slain, one heretic standing.’
Lambs wool, divine blood, silver chains. Such images flashed rapidly in the gods mind.
‘Five becomes four…’
For the god’s greed he was trapped in chains, the blood of his siblings on his clawed but wounded hands. The pain was unbearable. Chains digging into freshly made wounds, his vision fading in and out as he struggled to speak. Spitting venomous words at his so-called family.
The lamb used the crown's magic to choke him, magic that was supposed to be his. He clawed desperately at his throat in a pitiful attempt to free himself before his throat was crushed with a sickening crunch. The last thing he witnessed was the hateful gaze of the red crown. His birthright.
‘Becomes three…’
His eye was gouged out by swift movements of long, black claws.
Leshy was the first to fall to the lamb. His glorious green-eyed crown in scattered pieces across his temple floor. His long eldritch form a tangle of knots without a head. Black divine blood coating the peaceful temple within Darkwood.
‘Becomes two…’
Her throat was slashed with a brutal but precise scythe slice.
Heket was the second. Her eyes popped out of her head with her teeth cracked like glass. Her long tongue torn from her body. The pieces of her magnificent yellow eyed crown indistinguishable from her mangled corpse.
‘Becomes one…’
His ears were shredded like paper beneath the magic of the red crown.
Kallamar was the third. His most prized weapons nothing more than broken toys scattered across the battlefield. His holy hand grenade in pieces, his dagger stuck in the temple wall, his staff broken in two, and his sword stuck squarely in the back of his head. His corpse pinned to the ocean floor. The pieces of his crown lost to the ocean abyss.
‘Becomes nothing…’
Their skull was brutally broken open by repeatedly being bashed into the cold, uncaring floor.
Shamura was the last faithful bishop to fall. Their incredible, purple-eyed crown broken in two. Long limbs scattered to each corner of the battlefield with their abdomen torn free from his body and crushing his head.
When the god of death awoke, he broke out into a cold sweat. His form trembling as he struggles to catch his breath. Narinder felt sick, a looming dread stuck in his stomach as he resisted the urge to vomit.
The images of his siblings’ brutalized corpses were burned into his mind.
No matter how much he tried he couldn't push the image of Leshy's mangled form or Kallamar’s impaled body from his mind. Or any of their corpses for that matter.
He tried to wipe away his tears, but with three eyes and only two hands that proved foolish.
He was betrayed by his siblings.
He was betrayed by his vessel.
He was betrayed by his crown.
And for what? Ambitions? Desires??
This had to be inaccurate. This couldn’t truly be prophecy. He just wanted what was rightfully his! He just wanted…
Narinder recalled the bloodied corpses of his loved ones.
The wounds he had caused. The deaths caused by his vessel.
No.
His ambitions could wait.
He had to ensure such a fate never became reality. He refused to sit back and let his brothers and sister become nothing more than godly corpses. Damn be these prophecies and damn whoever that lamb was.
Narinder sat up slowly, the sickening feeling in his gut had yet to fade. Yet laying here wallowing in such an… unbecoming emotion was a waste of his precious time.
If he wished to break this prophecy, then he had work to do.
How does one break a prophecy? Visions were Shamura’s specialty, not deaths.
Therefore, he would seek out the council of his older sibling. With little hesitation Narinder stood from his bed, grabbing his freshly pressed robe and redressing. He made sure he looked divine before he grabbed the red crown and marched out of his bedroom.
Gods do not weep, so no follower shall ever know he awoke in tears.
With the crown placed exactly where it belongs, he sunk into the floor, reappearing within the silk cradle.
Many of his brothers’ worshippers looked surprised to see him back so soon but they dared not question him. Giving the god of death space as he walked the temple.
Shamura was not in the meeting room, so Narinder figured they must be in the library.
The hallway leading to the library had magnificent paintings lining its walls. Shamura had their followers paint them each time a new sibling came into his care. Each painting lined in the order that they had been found.
First was himself – Narinder – still just a small, insignificant kitten seated upon his older brother’s lap. Three wide and excited red eyes, curious about the world, determined to know more.
Second was Kallamar, the small squid stood shyly next to Shamura, clinging to their arm. Even at such a young and fickle age the squid’s spinelessness showed through.
Third was Heket, she sat proudly atop the spiders’ shoulders with a prideful grin. She did always think herself above her siblings.
Fourth was Leshy, the worm had insisted the painting had him freshly popped out of the ground beside Shamura. The youngest sibling beamed with excitement despite the visible mess made.
The final painting was a full family portrait, each bishop standing tall and proud. Side by side. Narinder lingered before this painting longer than he intended to. For a brief moment, he could have sworn he saw…
Nevermind.
He knew he did not see chains because that has not happened, and it will never happen.
With renewed purpose the black cat walked into Shamura’s library. “Brother!” He called into the open space.
There was no response.
Of course, his brother would be off foolishly delivering sermons or granting boons when their own kin had need of them. The cat grumbled but pressed further into the library, letting the door slam shut behind him. If his brother would not aid him then their library would have to suffice.
The god of death strolled deeper into the archives. Perhaps a book about the nature of prophecy would ease some of his worries.
When he found what he searched for he pulled the well-maintained book from its shelf. Shamura took pride in their library and preserved it well. While it was not the only book on prophecy, it was the first one Narinder pulled from the shelf. He didn’t recognize the author's name, but it mattered little, he just hoped that this ‘Clauneck’ knew well what they wrote of.
The book started with a simple definition of what a prophecy is.
A prediction.
Prophecy is not what will be, just what may be.
However, prophecy is a fickle thing by nature, trusting blindly in prophecy is a fool’s errand yet attempting to outrun prophecy often leads one right to it. The best way to read a prophecy is as a possibility, something to prepare for.
Narinder did not wish to prepare for his supposed imprisonment and death, he wished to prevent them from ever occurring. Stupid tome. Still, he continued reading, hoping it could provide some answers.
Prophecy is often defined by our actions. Should one wish for a prophecy to come true one must continue the actions that will lead to the desired destination while foregoing the actions that would deny it.
Narinder grumbled. As if he wanted such a prophecy to come true. But preventing a prophecy should follow the same principle, right? Just don’t do the acts that would get him imprisoned.
But why would his siblings ever imprison him?
Was he not good enough for them? Did those traitorous wretches believe themselves better??? Do they think themselves above death?!—
“Brother! What are you doing here?”
Narinder jumped at the familiar voice of the worm, dropping the book, and landing a couple feet back from his brother.
“Leshy!” He snapped, his fur puffing up in anger.
Leshy was just laughing at his brother’s surprise. “Sorry, sorry. Not my fault you're so easy to scare.”
“I am not!” Narinder scoffed, glaring at his youngest brother.
“What are you doing here?” Leshy asked, tilting his bushy head to the side.
“That is none of your concern, why are you here?”
“I was looking for Shamura! I was wondering if they wanted to hang out with me.”
“Why would they want to do that?” Narinder picked up the book he dropped and dusted it off a little, still glaring at the worm of chaos.
“Well… it’s been so long since we hung out. Since any of us hung out! I’m getting bored but everyone’s busy all the time! Always doing sermons or rituals or something.” The displeasure in his tone was obvious.
Narinder rolled his eyes at first, what a foolish thought. Of course they were busy. They're gods!
Then again…
When was the last time Narinder hung out with his youngest sibling, or any of his siblings for that matter. They gather for news, business yes, but when was the last time they just hung out. As family.
Narinder stared down at the book in his hands quietly for a moment before returning it to its rightful place on the shelf.
“Well… since Shamura’s presence is lacking, how about you and I hang out instead?”
Leshy seemed to perk up at that, his one eye widening. “Really? Are you sure??”
Narinder hesitated before nodding. His ambitions could wait. His siblings would betray him if they no longer viewed him as family and he could not allow that to be.
“What did you have in mind?” Leshy asked, moving closer to his big brother. Eager as ever.
It made Narinder smile a little.
“Hmm…” Narinder shifted a paw to scratch his chin, thinking for a moment, “how about some arson?”
The worm gasped excitedly but his smile faltered soon afterwards, “but we got in trouble the last time we played with fire…”
Ah. That was true. Many followers’ lives were consumed by the uncaring flames, Heket and Shamura were most displeased.
“Well, you’re the bishop of chaos and order are you not?” Narinder pressed, grinning down at his little brother as he folded his arms behind his back.
“Yes but-”
“Then all we have to do is ensure it’s a productive fire. Chaos in flux.”
Leshy tilted his head, “productive?”
“Parts of Darkwood often burn to help new growth occur, correct?” Narinder’s grin only grew when Leshy’s eye flickered with understanding.
“We just need to find the right spot with enough overgrowth and burn that!”
“Exactly.” Narinder failed to suppress an excited purr, “and should the fire get out of control I personally vow to revive your fallen followers and help you rebuild.”
Leshy’s grin only widened, his many rows of teeth gleaming, “yes! Yes! This is going to be so much fun!!! I’ll meet you at my temple!”
With that the worm popped into a hole in the ground and began to burrow back to Darkwood. Narinder chuckled before teleporting.
Fire was a dangerous thing to play with yet watching this overgrown section of forest burn was a calming sight. Leshy’s enthusiastic laughter filled the scene along with the crackling of flames. The worm lifted a burning stick and chucked it at a tree which had yet to catch fire.
The section they chose to burn was a good distance from any major settlements in Darkwood, close to Anura but still land considered to be Leshy’s.
“Yes! Hahaha!” Leshy grinned, standing back to admire the burning forest.
Narinder moved to stand next to him. The warmth felt amazing on his cold black fur. “Quite the view huh?” He purred.
Leshy nodded, looking up as his taller brother. “We should do this more often!”
Narinder snorts but was cut off before he could speak.
“What are you two doing?!”
Ah, yes. The voice of Heket. Always such an annoying sound, especially when she took her scolding tone of voice.
“We’re just playing!” Leshy responded quickly, turning to look at their sister.
Heket was walking over, arms folded in displeasure. “With fire? So close to my lands??”
“We have it under control sister,” Narinder responded, not looking at his sister.
The sound of her scoff made Narinder growl. “It doesn’t seem like it! Pointlessly burning the lands for entertainment. How many followers has your ‘playing’ killed hm? Five hundred? A thousand? Do you not have sermons to deliver or heretics to kill?”
“It’s not pointless!” Leshy insisted promptly, “this land was going to burn anyway, with the overgrowth and accumulation of dead plants! It needed to burn to make way for new growth! We’re just helping it along.”
“As I said sister,” Narinder chimed in, “we have it under control. Should the fire spread beyond what is intended, which it won’t, I will help Leshy rebuild and revive any fallen followers.”
Heket always believed herself above them. Stepping in to enforce stupid rules and customs. Shamura trusted her to take charge when they were busy, but Narinder only found her annoying.
“Besides,” Leshy added on, “we have all the time in the world to hunt the heretics! I’ve already delivered my sermons for the day! What’s so wrong with some productive chaos???”
Heket went quiet for a moment, looking at the land on fire. “You are burning it in sections?”
“Yes,” Leshy said with a prompt nod, “to help it stay under control.”
“And your worshipers have already been removed from this area?”
“Yes!” Leshy insisted, clearly growing annoyed with his sister's questioning.
With Heket’s arrogant nature the cat and worm would likely get a scolding anyway. One from her and one from Shamura. Shamura always claims that he should know better, he’s the second oldest after all, he should keep his siblings in line. Not encouraging them to waste time.
Like Heket does.
Be more like Heket, Narinder. It’s better for the old faith.
“And you were certain this land would burn anyway?” Heket pressed.
“YES!” Leshy insisted through his gritted maw. “Just look at it sister! It was bound to go up in flames any day now.”
How constricting was the old faith that it asked chaos for calmness and productiveness? The beauty of chaos was its unpredictability. Flowers blooming on freshly burned land.
“It will not touch your lands sister,” Narinder added, eyes still watching the fire. “It is as Leshy says.”
“But what if it does?” Heket shifted her hands to her hips, eying Narinder.
The cat scoffed, finally turning his head to look at his sister, “then I shall extend the vow I made Leshy to you. O sister of mine should your followers burn I shall revive them in full. Should any of your buildings crumble I shall help to rebuild.”
Heket fell quiet after that and Narinder turned his gaze back to the flames.
Other than the crackling of flames the three bishops remained quiet for a moment. Each looking back at the burning lands.
“… Seems you’ve missed a spot.” Heket says, gesturing to a section of land having yet to catch fire.
Leshy nodded, “I can—“
Heket waved a hand to stop her younger brother before using her own magic to burn that section of land.
Narinder’s ears perked up and Leshy audibly gasped.
“You’re joining us?!” The worm’s excitement returning in full.
Heket moved to stand beside her two brothers, “if I am allowed to join you.”
Narinder stared at his sister in surprise. Was she not going to scold them? Was she not going to tell Shamura of this? Why would this self-righteous, arrogant, annoying frog wish to—
“Yes! It’s been so long since we played together!” Leshy beamed, “let’s start burning the next section! All of us! Together!!!”
The worm was quick to burrow into the ground and rush to the next section of land.
Narinder studied his sister for a moment.
The hatred he felt for her was real, but it was also new. He didn’t always feel such disgust towards his sister… perhaps…
His family would only betray him should they fail to see him as such.
He would only wish them harm should he fail to see them in turn.
He could not let that come to pass. Despite his gripes with Heket he could not let his sister lose faith in him. He could not lose his love for her either. “Well sister… I believe I can cause a bigger fire than you,” Narinder challenged with a grin.
Heket scoffed but grinned back at him. “As if! You are so on.” With that she ran ahead, clearly trying to get a head start.
Narinder chuckled before running after her. As if he’d let her win so easily.
With every section of overgrown land in flames the siblings laid upon the ashes of an already burned plot of land. Heket and Narinder bickered about who won their impromptu competition.
“Tsk, nonsense!” Narinder rolled his three eyes, “I clearly won.”
“Bullshit!” Heket retorted, “my flame was taller than even I.”
“But it was not taller than I,” Narinder chuckled, flexing the fact he was the tallest of the bishops.
Heket sat up, “and yours was?”
Narinder also sat up, “no. But it was taller than yours.”
Leshy pulled both of his siblings into a hug, curling around them. “It’s been too long since we hung out.”
Heket and Narinder ceased their bickering to hug their youngest brother back.
“It has been,” Heket agreed, “… I missed this.”
“You were right brother,” Narinder responded after a contemplative pause, “we should do this more often.”
“You think so?” Leshy asked, looking up at his brother.
Narinder nods, “I do. It has been too long since we’ve done anything other than work. We are different from the feral, heretical gods we fight because we are a family. If we lose that then what are we?”
“Well said brother,” Heket nods in agreement.
Leshy hesitated a moment before pulling away from his sibling and laying back down. “Do you believe what Shamura said… that…. That one of our siblings would betray us?”
Heket also laid down, looking at Narinder. “I… I don’t know brother.”
Narinder hesitated, recalling the violent prophecy he saw while resting.
“It will not happen.”
Leshy looked over at his brother, “how can you be so sure? Shamura has been very accurate with their prophecies before.”
“It cannot happen. We will not let it.” The dark god insisted, looking at his siblings. He would not let them perish. He refused whatever supposed fate he saw.
Heket nodded in agreement to Narinder’s words. “We will not let it,” she repeated in earnest.
With that the dark god laid back down, letting the conversation drift back to a more lighthearted topic. Turns out the next time the siblings wished to hang out, bishop Heket had some lands that needed clearing. To make more farmland.