Boiled Lamb
~|o|~
The wayward lamb didn't know where his hooves were carrying him. He wasn't paying attention though, his mind buzzing with frustrating, angry thoughts like swarming hornets. His crown was humming loudly and was a bright beacon of red, eldritch light in the stretching shadows, a signal warning all living things nearby to flee, lest they throw their souls at his mercy.
Had he been in his usual, calculating state of mind, Lambert would be fretting about leaving the commune so suddenly, that he was absent from the sermon HE called for. Surely it would send ripples of uncertainty through the congregation.
He couldn't bring himself to care right now. He had exhausted his final, desperate hope in his quest. If anyone possessed the knowledge of how to bring back his people, his friends and original family from the grave, it would have been his predecessor.
But against all odds, he didn't. Apparently there were limits to every deity, in more ways than one. As proven by Lambert failing to control his tumultuous emotions.
He didn't know why he was running away. Perhaps he just couldn't bear to stay in the commune, near Narinder, all reminders of his failure. Or a part of him wanted to get as far away from his flock as possible in case he did something… regrettable.
Either way, Lambert kept running, eyes pointed low and burning with furious tears.
The moon hung low in the sky, as if casting a spotlight down on him, the celestial body asking where he was going.
If it was, he couldn't tell it, for even he didn't know. Probably in a random direction in his exodus from his home.
Eventually, the lapping of water reached his ears and salt tickled his nose.
He knew now.
Pilgrim's Passage was silent and bereft of its usual folk. The Fisherman had left his post by the shore, the ocean not surrendering its bounty most likely. The robed forms of the Light Keepers couldn't be seen, probably praying and resting within their sacred lighthouse, its luminous crystal lantern bathing the pier with its golden rays.
A small part of him was grateful that no one was around to witness him in such a shameful state. Especially whatever he was going to do next.
Lambert stopped on the side of the pier, overlooking the waves splashing against the shore.
The seagulls squawked in fright at his presence and frantically flew off. He scowled as they disappeared, their noises grating on his already frayed nerves.
He needed to take his aggression out on something.
Glancing down, he spied some smooth, flat stones. Without a second thought, he snatched them up and stomped onto the dock, the boards creaking under his hooves. He passed under the red, triangle archway and stopped at the end, the enormity of the sea before him.
Tossing one of the stones in his hand, he wound it back. With a grunt, he pitched it sideways, sending the stone skittering across the water, bouncing a few times before sinking.
He grabbed his second, pulling it back further and threw it harder with a growl, sending it several bounces past the abandoned wrecks hung on the rocks.
He retrieved his third and final stone, holding it in front of his face. He grit his teeth and gripped the innocent piece of earth in his hand to the point that his fingers began to sting. His anger built higher and tipped over the edge, his eyes ablaze with red fire as energy enveloped his fist.
"UrrrrAAAAH!" He let out a furious scream, pulling it back and throwing the stone in pure rage, launching it in a straight line where it cut through the waves like a vengeful bolt, shooting off into the horizon.
A beat or two passed, then a blast of red light rocked the sea, a shockwave of sound crashing against Lambert's ears in the next instant. It kicked up large waves that smashed against the pier, threatening to take the platform away.
Thankfully it held and the energy from the blast dissipated, leaving Lambert in the moonlight, his anger now spent. Bitterness and remorse was all that remained.
He gave an aggravated sigh, sitting down and dangling his legs over the edge. Resting his head on his hands, he gazed out on the settling sea.
He felt defeated. Something that had not occurred since the night he lost his head and before his great rebirth. Wielding the power of a god, he felt nigh-unstoppable. Even when he was slain by the bishops again and again, he hadn't faltered. He saw each death and following resurrection as a roadblock, just something for him to overcome.
He couldn't feel the same about this. This wasn't a problem that could be solved with blade and fire. He was lost, without a single clue as to where he could go.
He needed help. A sign. Anything to point him in the right direction.
His eyes drifted to the crescent moon.
"Mom… what do I do?" He pleaded helplessly.
"My, my…" He stiffened, a deep voice echoing from the depths. "What a fearsome display…"
Lambert glanced to the arch overhead and narrowed his eyes at the blue crescent nailed to its apex and scowled.
It appeared that in his wandering he had called the attention of a rather loathsome creature. He knew it well, having made deals with it before.
Off the side of the dock, the water began to darken and swirl into a black vortex. A robed shape rose from its depths, higher and higher until it towered over the lamb, though he was not afraid.
That had been the one thing that kept the being from trying his luck at fitting him in his maw the first time they met.
The Fox shook its head to dislodge any stray droplets from its scarlet fur. It's glowing, slit pupils locked onto him and its lips curled into a wide smile, the light from the moon making its long fangs glitter.
"It's been a while, hasn't it Little Lamb? Three years as I recall."
Lambert glared up at him. "Not long enough."
The Fox laughed, a low, terrible sound. "Oh come now, is that anyway to greet a fellow beast? Then again, you never accepted my last proposal. Is that perhaps why you sought me out?" His grin widened and his eyes glittered with excitement. "You will finally give me-"
"No. A thousand times again, no. I'm not giving him to you for your last relic fragment. I hardly need it now." Lambert retorted, deriving a little pleasure at the brief flicker of outrage on the Fox's face before he schooled his features.
"Then what brings you out here Little Lamb, if my presence displeases you so?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I merely needed to go for a walk and get some fresh air."
The Fox clicked his teeth. "Much as I can smell fear, I can also see through lies my woolen friend. It is only my respect for a fellow predator that holds me from tearing you apart for such a slight as to lie to me. I trust you will not do it again. Come now, you can confide in me! Whatever could be vexing the infant god of death?"
Lambert remained silent. What was the harm in telling him? Wasn't as if he could eat the dead. He didn't have much to lose in doing so.
"Well… if you must know…"
And so he told the Fox, the towering vulpine remaining silent as he explained his dream, his efforts and failures.
"I see… not even your former master knows. So that is where you find yourself now? On the edge of the darkness with no way to revive your kindred? A touch softer than I gave you credit for Little Lamb."
Lambert glared again. "Considering you likely ate your own family, I didn't expect you to understand."
"Well, you are right about two things." The Fox chuckled darkly. "There can only be one true predator in a glen. Too many mouths lead to no one getting to eat. However…hmm…" He trailed off in thought.
Lambert raised a brow as the Fox stroked his chin. A moment later he smirked again.
"Actually… I believe there is a way for both of us to get what we want."
Lambert's eyes widened and he jumped to his hooves. "Explain yourself!"
The Fox drifted around to the front of the pier and gazed out towards the sea.
"I am an old hunter my friend. I have seen and heard many things in my time. Things that may help you in your little… predicament."
Lambert's heart rose. "What is it?!"
"Ah-ah!" The Fox tutted, clearly amused now that he had his attention. "I never said I would just give it to you. I have needs of my own after all."
Lambert froze. He already knew what was being asked of him. But the Fox spelled it out for him anyway, turning back and giving him his damning, carnivorous smile.
"A new deal then. I will tell you what I know. And in return, you give me Ratau!"
Ratau. His old friend. On that fateful night, he had been Lambert's guide in his new quest to free the One Who Waits. Leading him to safety, away from the bishops who wanted him dead. Taught him how to start his own cult which spanned the whole continent to this day. Helped him hone his newfound powers so he could take his revenge.
He was there for him, when no one else was.
Lambert clenched his fist, shaking with fury. It was the same request that the Fox had asked of him three years ago for the last relic within his possession. He would not trade the life of his old friend for a mere trinket, for he had no illusions what this fiend had in store for the old rat. He had been happy on refusing the deal and never interacting with the Fox ever again.
This time however, a part of him, a desperate one, was considering it. And he hated himself for that.
'You fool!' He berated himself. He wasn't the naive fledgling warrior who fell for the Fox's words anymore.
The red crown immediately flowed into his hand and he brandished his blade at his foe. "What's to stop me from pinning you to the deck and making you talk?" He growled.
The Fox only cackled. "AHAHAHAHA! There he is! There's the beast in a sheep's coat! Ah, yes, I LOVE the way you think Little Lamb. But are you really going to take that chance?" He asked, cocking his head. "You are truly mighty, but you don't know what I am capable of. You might best me, true. But the reverse is also possible. Or I might just vanish from sight and never return, leaving you to lament, cursing yourself and wondering if I really did have what you seek! That sounds delightful, does it not?"
Lambert grit his teeth, his sword wavering.
The Fox was right. There was too much riding on this decision for him to just burn the bridge.
'But I can't just give up Ratau!'
The Fox leered over him with his smug grin, making it all the more tempting for him to lop off his head. "Well? What is it going to be Little Lamb? Your wizened mentor? Or your only chance to restore your people? Do make your choice swiftly, or I might just leave. I hunger."
They locked eyes. The Lamb's horizontal pupils boring into the Fox's slits with hatred, the latter of whom seemed like he was enjoying the world's funniest joke and was struggling to hold in his laughter.
Lambert gripped his sword.
Then he let it melt away, the crown returning to his brow.
"I will accept, on one condition."
"I'm listening…"
"I will… I will give you Ratau in exchange for your information. But only if it truly leads to a way to bring back my people and only after. No earlier than that."
"You would have me wait for my reward?"
"You offer me information that has a chance to revive them. A chance. I am not gambling Ratau, my good friend, on the risk that you are lying to me. Take it or leave it. That is my line and I am NOT backing down on it." He announced defiantly with a flourish of his cape.
The Fox seemed to just find his bravado entertaining, letting out a guffaw.
"Ohoh, Little Lamb. Not many would have bargained so aggressively with me. Count yourself lucky that I like you." He smiled again. "Very well." He brought a finger to his maw and pricked the tip on one of his fangs. He held the digit out, a single drop of blood hanging on the end. "Let us seal the deal."
Lambert willed the red crown into a dagger and jabbed his own finger. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he put his paw within the Fox's larger grasp, letting it get wrapped in his claws.
"Through the sharing of our lifeblood and in the eyes of the old ones, our accord has been struck." The Fox chanted.
Small ribbons of white light bound their arms together amidst a chorus of hushed voices speaking forgotten tongues. Lambert could feel the old magic weaving into his being, promising to undo him if he broke his word.
Finally, the ribbons faded and the Fox relinquished his paw.
"Now, for my end of the bargain." He said, straightening and lacing his sleeves back together. "If He Who Waited Below holds no answer for you, you will not find what you seek in the lands of the Old Faith."
"Then where do I go?" Lambert asked while he pressed his fingers together, sealing the bind wound.
The Fox turned back towards the ocean and pointed with his sleeved arm. "There, across the sea. There is a land much like our own, but different in so many ways. A place of witchcraft these shores have not seen since the time of the old ones. Growing from the bones of a great beast in a sea where the water bubbles and boils from its spilled blood. There, you may find your people's salvation."
"And where is it? You can't expect me to find it just from where you are pointing."
"You may ask that smuggler follower of yours if he can take you."
"You mean Plimbo?" Lambert questioned, crossing his arms. "Plimbo knows about this place?"
"He has been secretly trading between there and the lands of the Old Faith for years, playing both sides with no competition. Not carefully enough to escape my notice of course." He said with a note of satisfaction. "I have fulfilled my vow. I leave you to do the same."
With that, the Fox began to sink back down into the swirling void from whence he came. Not before giving Lambert one last look.
"Despite any animosity you hold for me, I truly do wish for your success Little Lamb so that I may finally get what I've craved for soooo long. Besides…"
His maw stretched into a wide, malicious grin of shining, pointed teeth. "I can't remember the last time I had tender lamb flesh!" He said, licking his lips.
Lambert glared, his crown humming menacingly. "Don't push your luck."
The Fox remained uncowed. "Farewell, hnhnhn…" He chuckled and retreated into his portal, which promptly dissipated, leaving the prophesied lamb alone with his thoughts and his regrets.
~|o|~
The days flew by after Lambert returned. All cries of concern over his disappearance and the few indignant grumbles at being stood up at the sermon quickly vanished when he announced the good news.
He was announcing the beginning of a new crusade! A holy quest taking him beyond the lines of the map over the sea, to an unknown land, all for the purpose of resurrecting his long lost people, culled so unjustly by the Bishops. The cult was in awe at such a prospect, that their almighty leader may perform a new miracle and bring his light to a place unenlightened to their truth.
The Cult was immediately put to work. Supplies for their leader's voyage was quickly gathered and the Lamb spent several weeks appointing servants to watch over the commune and the region in his stead.
Soon(all too soon), the entirety of the cult was gathered along the shore of Pilgrim's Passage, cheering and waving banners and effigies of their god made flesh in farewell. More than a few faces were wet with tears as Lambert stepped down the divide in the crowd. He smiled, waved, bowed and bestowed his blessings amidst the horde of smiles. He didn't miss Narinder in the back wearing a contemptuous scowl as he clapped his paws halfheartedly. Lambert shook his head and continued to make his way towards his destination.
Moored at the end of the pier was Plimbo's new trade vessel, a small wooden sloop. After Lambert had purged the Witnesses that rose in the wake of the Bishop's demise, the captain had finally gotten around to constructing a ship to replace the one the Cyclopic demons had destroyed. Good thing too, considering his usual, giant fish steed likely wouldn't make the journey, especially if the boiling water thing wasn't just hyperbole.
Waiting by the pier's edge stood Lambert's newly appointed priests, Breno the elk, Yarkay the otter and Merlinor the eagle. All three were loyal to the core, proving their fealty and worth through a series of harsh trials. They were to be in command of the cult in their liege's absence, trusted to make decisions as he would, following his doctrines to the letter. Only in the event of a great emergency would they contact him telepathically through the church altar.
Lambert gave them a nod and they bowed their heads in return. He turned forward again and it took a considerable amount of effort to keep his smile on his face.
Standing at the end of the pier before the ship was the last person he wanted to see right now. His back slightly hunched and legs quaking, the old rat leaned heavily on the yew branch that served as his walking stick. He had managed to clean off all the dirt staining his green tunic and tattered red scarf, his show of deference for the occasion. He had the hand not grasping his staff braced against the paper crown on his brow, the red triangle on it matching the one on his forehead. His remaining eye was upon Lambert, filled with delight.
"Ahh, there he is, the beast of the hour!" Ratau chortled and held his arms out. As much as he didn't want to, Lambert had no choice but to lean in and let the elderly rodent embrace him.
"I-It is good to see you my old friend." Lambert lied, hating how close the two of them were to the spot that he had sold this mentor's life.
His agitation wasn't lost on Ratau as he pulled back and gave his pupil a concerned look. "What's with that face my boy? Is this not a glorious day? You are about to embark on a venture not seen in an age! The sun is high and the wind is at your back, so why are you so glum? I can't imagine you'd miss a scruffy face such as mine!" He laughed, guiding Lambert to the edge of the pier for a moment of privacy.
Lambert grimaced. "Not much gets past you, does it?"
"This one eye is still good for something, haha! Now tell me, what is on your mind?"
The god glanced away, biting his lip. "I… I'm afraid Ratau."
"Hm? Of what?"
"That I am making a grave mistake. I struck a bargain in order to learn of this place, the only lead I have left to bring back my people. But I fear the price wasn't mine to pay."
"I see." Ratau nodded, sagely stroking the gray bristles on the end of his snout. "You never did get used to the concept of making sacrifices of others."
"It's not only that. In following this heading, I am sealing their fate. I am betraying someone dear to me, all for myself." He shook his head, the red crown drooping. "I make myself out to be this infallible, gracious, loving god, but I'm throwing them to the wolves. I fear that I am selfish, my friend." He looked Ratau in the eye. "I… I'm torn."
"I see." Ratau nodded. "Quite the burden indeed."
Lambert nodded along with him and swallowed. The irony wasn't lost on him, how he was seeking council from the very being he promised to a gaping maw. But he couldn't help himself.
"What do I do?" He pleaded.
Ratau hummed, taking another moment to think. "Tell me, do you miss your family?"
Lambert blinked at the question. "To the point of tears. Their pain haunts my dreams" He answered immediately.
"Then you must go my boy!" The rat clapped his shoulder. "I can think of no cause more noble than to restore what was so wrongfully taken from them, to the point of wrenching them from the clutches of death."
"But… what about the sacrifice I'm making? I'm making the decision for them, without their knowledge!"
Ratau turned him and grasped his shoulders, giving him a little shake. "Be that as it may, you are hurting, Lamb. You will never be whole until you take back what's yours. And if this person cared about you at all, they would want this for you. You understand that?"
Lambert opened and closed his mouth, making a good impression of the local (fish)erman. Then he finally sighed and smiled, though it didn't reach his cheeks.
"I understand. Thank you, old friend." He said, gently pulling himself from Ratau's arms.
"ALLLL ABOAAARD!" Plimbo called from the top deck.
No sooner had Lambert made his first step onto the gangplank did he hear Ratau cough abruptly.
"W-Wait!" Lambert turned his head to see Ratau hold out an arm. He seemed anxious as he lowered it.
"Not that I have lost faith in you my pupil, but even in the truly slim chance that you don't succeed… I… well I… I want you to know that…" He stammered, opening his mouth before shaking his head and smiling. "I want you to know that I am proud of you. Truly, you are the leader I never could become. Be careful and come home safe."
Lambert's smile tightened and he nodded again. Then he turned and without another word he climbed the gangplank and boarded the ship.
The anchor was raised and sails unfurled. The ship pulled from the deck to a deafening tide of cheers and adulating cries. Lambert slowly waved as he departed, the Lands of the Old Faith and his mentor shrinking further and further away while his guilt came along with him.
Eventually he sighed and turned to the horizon beyond the prow.
For better or worse, the great crusade had finally begun.