Chapter Text
Nari was special in the cult.
He knew that, the other followers knew that and the cult leader, known only as "the Lamb" that welcomed them in knew it too, and in fact, insisted on it to others. Although the reason for such a judgement of his character and soul was never actually given.
From his earliest memories, Nari can remember only blinding fog and vague colors. Splotches of green, red, blue and purple... blurs of figures too indistinguishable to tell what they are. A blinding light. Then darkness and red. And then...a single hand outstretched in a gesture of warmth, sun shining over their head that made the lamb before him seem divine. The crown resting upon its head locked eyes with his own.
They had quickly informed him of their teachings, all of which felt familiar, déjà vu permanently lingering in everything in sight. An amnesiac, the Lamb called him.
Due to déjà vu, Nari was tempted to stay in hopes of recalling what he was missing from his memory, only his name really stuck out to him. When the Lamb offered him a comfortable shelter in his own fancier quarters, Nari had said he'd stay at least 'til morning, when he'll be able to venture out. Explore. The Lamb agreed.
"Of course Nari" they said, patting him on the back as a different follower handed him red and white robes to replace the torn ones he was wearing "You can leave at any time you like"
His mind can't help but think about how attentive the followers were to him the morning after. Distracting him. Almost as if they wanted him to stay and not leave the compound. Which he eventually didn't, staying around permanently.
Routine came easy. It wasn't like the Lamb demanded a lot from their followers to begin with. They each had a lenient, but balanced portion of tasks.
He had even met some other amnesiacs at the compound. Apparently amnesia wasn't uncommon, although it was odd that with them, Nari could feel overwhelming amounts of emotions that his memory could possibly explain. But...he had never met a Shan or Eshy. Or Markalli or Ekete. Maybe they were all special for their lack of memory? But that didn't make sense, Lamb didn't treat them all equally. Why?
Through gossip, the followers admitted to him that the Lamb favored Nari among the rest, and let them slack off. He didn't have to work if he didn't want to. He didn't have to preach the gospel and received gifts far more often than any other follower, even the disciples he surrounded himself with. Not only that, but he got unlimited rations, and he was allowed to ask questions. No follower was Nari, he was nearly an equal to their leader. A shift in the cult's previous hierarchy, small but subtle.
The Lamb first, Nari second and the followers at the bottom.
Nari asked the Lamb why they felt that Nari earned more special treatment, but never could get anything out of the Lamb aside from vague answers and distractions. The Lamb was secretive, and he let the Lamb keep their secrets. He wasn't going to pry into the life of someone so generous to him.
He did wish he could go out, though.
The Lamb never let him, though. Never let him get outside the cult grounds, not even on missions or crusades. He'd been kept isolated, and so were his fellow amnesiac friends. The outside was too dangerous for them, the Lamb said. Something felt wrong when they did. Occasionally the sentence made him feel sick with the unrelenting urge to run. Something about all of this was wrong. His name, the follower status, the closed third eye on his forehead, chants of praising the Lamb...all of it was WRONG.
Still, Nari always fell back into routine.
Wake up, breakfast, sermons, recess, followed by whatever lenient chore he had been assigned to that day, dinner, worship, go back to the tent.
Anytime doubts arose from the crevices of his mind, the Lamb would swoop in, offer warmth and words of wisdom and comfort. Explanations to put him at ease. He'd let them share the bed and pull him into a warm, fluffy hug that made Nari not worry anymore.
"You're wonderful Nari...one of a kind" the praised Lamb would flatter followed by affectionate kisses when only Nari allowed. A comfort mixed with love and the control of the situation Lamb showed him. Restrictive and loving. Caring.
"Why?" He'd ask in turn, only to be shushed and cuddled. It was bittersweet, but shouldn't he be appreciative to be recognized by someone so great? After all, he was no leader, just a follower. A simple cat with a mildly strange eye defect. Nothing in the eyes of the Paradise the Lamb provided.
"You needn't think of that, love. Just believe my word. Listen to me" the Lamb purred, voice dangerous in the cat's ears that left a taste of licorice in the back of his throat.
His face was comforting and divine. But while the Lamb's smile and voice made the cat's heart flutter, the words made him sick. Nauseous on some internal level. A twisted feeling of déjà vu mixed with unparalleled dread.
"You need to run" something told him each night, keeping him awake."Take the crown and run. While you still can." it was bothersome, and he laid in the leader's quarters most often staring at the ceiling, hearing voices speak heresy.
The Lamb suggested drinking and Anura mushrooms. Nari obliged sometimes. But the drinks and mushrooms never made the voices go away. It made him loopy and woozy enough to not comprehend what they were saying. But they never, ever stopped.
...
He tried leaving once.
He never took the crown. Felt the strong desire to, felt the longing. Felt it staring at him as if it was coaxing him to just reach his grubby cat paws for it. And yet he felt the unbridled fear that came with touching something so sacred and intertwined with the Lamb. Even if deep down, he felt a connection with it that told him to wear it.
But one time, he got curious. He snuck his way out of the quarters, hiding behind decorations and buildings until near the missionary building by the gate leading to the outside world. He grabbed a bag stuffed with God knows what rations and snuck to the pentagram that helped the Lamb move outside long distances with ease.
Some say curiosity killed the cat.
He shouldn't have been surprised to find himself sedated and dragged back in by the disciples. Nor should he have been surprised to be imprisoned in the pillory in the blazing sun. The Lamb was never harsh in his process of converting, merely reciting words from a book of sacred teachings. He was never harsh, not to him, but actions had consequences. He'd often pacify him with soft words, just one more day and it'll be over Nari, just one day. After a week he'd been let go and for good behavior, he'd been rewarded.
A bell collar like the Lamb's.
It made a sound at the slightest movement. Nari was never free from its chime. And the chime was loud. He was grateful, of course. A gift from their precious leader!
... He wondered if the loud sound was deliberate. Especially considering he was forbidden from taking it off.
Despite this, he was still loved, still favored, still adored by the Lamb. Every follower should have expected it'd result in a union. And Nari found himself in marital robes and flower crown soon enough, walking forward to the shrine where the Lamb awaited. Reserved, calm, loving.
"I do" he says, the words feeling right and yet so wrong. The arms he holds the Camelia bouquet with feel weighed down in a familiar and sickening way, like thick steel chains. A feeling he thought he'd manage to avoid on his wedding day.
"Run. Take the crown and run" it says.
He feels sick. He ignores it.
"Ignorance is bliss" he thinks.
Maybe if he keeps thinking like that, one day he'll actually believe it.