Chapter Text
Another shot of spikes shot across the ground, and the Lamb couldn’t dodge it in time, two spikes sticking up through the dirt and through her thigh and calf. She shouted, swinging her sword to break them off to keep them in her leg and limp away from the destruction before Barbatos made another attack. He jumped at her and she rolled to the side, lodging her sword between his gnashing teeth to keep him from biting her.
Then he tossed his head back, and her sword went flying, the miniboss turning back to her to attack again without relent. She tried to scramble away, barely dodging another attack as she saw her sword morph back into the red crown and turn to zip towards her.
Barbatos was already turning for another attack, and the lamb could tell that the crown wouldn’t be able to reach her before he did.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glint. The heels of her hands were gripping the edge of a small pond, and something in there looked sturdy, sharp .
A makeshift weapon would do before her crown could get there. It had to.
She shoved her hand into the water, grabbing tightly onto the hilt of whatever it was and pulled.
A startled, bleating body left the water, flailing till it hit the ground before it froze.
The lamb froze too, she hadn’t heard anyone make that kind of sound in over a decade. It wasn’t possible .
They locked eyes, red staring into dull blue.
And they were alive?
Lamb's breath caught for a moment in a gasp, then there was sound behind her and her stomach dropped. Shock at the strangers appearance turned to cold fear. She’d forgotten where she was, and she didn’t have time to turn around before-
The sickly sound of a spike stabbing through flesh filled the goats ears. He watched the lamb's eyes dim, and their body drop before him before he got the chance to move, a bundle of white wool with a few black spots. His mind wondered why he was back, why he was here .
He felt the ground shake, Barbatos launching up from the ground as the goat lept away to safety. His body moved on familiar instinct, firing every curse he knew before he threw his crown axe into the worm's side. It screeched, shooting out another line of spikes and spitting a ball of acid at him.
The goat made a quick roll to dry ground, recalling his weapon in a way to make it drag across the heretic's flesh. He moved relentlessly, taking a few new wounds to already marred skin, attacking until Barbatos was nothing but a dead husk. The body seemed to hiss, parts of it already starting to dissolve as the rest of the area went quiet.
The goats axe dropped like dead weight from his hands, his knees buckling soon to follow. His mouth felt dry, his throat going raw with sharp breaths. He was past this, this was over.
But the two corpses around him were still there, and very real. This wasn’t another hallucination.
He curled in on himself, squeezing his horns as he pressed his head against the wet dirt. He couldn’t do all this again, he barely managed to survive it all once . He couldn’t lose everyone again.
Then he heard a gasp.
The goats head snapped up, a blade flicking to his palm before he even formed a thought.
He saw the red eyed sheep from before moving, trying to get a breath in, pushing against the spike still through their chest.
The goat shifted back, staring in nothing but horror . “H-h- how? ”
They let out a whine, pushing themself most of the way up the spike before they ran out of reach and sat there trembling.
The goat fought his own frozen feet. He swallowed, letting his crown return to his head as he forced himself to shuffle forward. He offered the lamb a hand, trying his best not to tremble.
They looked up at him, surprised and sweaty, but… somehow, alive? They reached out, taking his hand and letting him help them the rest of the way off the spike, just to drop onto their back in a clearer spot, still gasping for breath.
The goat shuffled back a step watching with furrowed brows.
The lamb put a hand up, waving at him, “d-don’t go anywhere. I… I got questions.”
“… Okay.” He mumbled, dropping into a crouch to study her. “I do too.”
“I’ll uh…” they blinked up past him for a second. “I’ll be right back.”
“ What? ” He frowned. “You can’t move. Not with that… injury.” He pointed to the hole in her torso.
“Not up, down.” they mumbled, then their head slumped to the side.
“ What? ” He hissed.
They fell still and silent again.
The goat waited for a few seconds, then a few seconds longer. Realistically they had to be dead, he knew it. No mortal could come back from impalement, not even him. Yet, for whatever reason he didn’t move. She looked too clean to be an amalgom like him. Maybe her scars were also internal?
He was too lost in thought to see the shifting flesh in front of him closing up until the Lamb gasped awake again, hand flying out to grab his arm.
He screamed, instinctively locking up.
They gasped for a moment, sitting up with a death grip on his arm. They seemed to take a moment to catch their breath, then loosened their grip on him, patting his arm placatingly. “Shhh.”
“ How are you not dead?! ” He demanded.
She flinched a little, squinting at the two spikes still in one leg. “I was… twice. Did you not notice?”
“How are you back ?” He specified with a hiss.
She shrugged. “I don’t know the specifics. I die, i talk to the one who waits, she sends me back, boom. Im back.” she looked at him, then glanced up at the crown on his head. “I haven’t seen a goat in… over a decade at least.”
He fumbled with words for a moment, too much information crashing together at once. “Th-the one who waits?” He whispered. “You work under them? ” Had Shamura managed to make someone new?
The lamb tilted their head. “Yeah… to kill the bishops and free her from hell? Why, you wanna help?”
He blinked at her. “Who…” he paused, looking up at the crown nestled on her head in her wool. It’s eye was crimson, not the lilac he’d come to expect. “Who is the one who waits?”
“Uh…” they blinked, tilting their head. “Yeah, i'm not really equipped to answer that. Clarify?”
“Name.” He replied. “What’s their name.”
“The one who waits.” they shrugged.
He bit down a growl, squeezing his palms. “What about the bishops?”
“Well, we’re currently in Darkwood.” she pulled one of the spikes out of her leg. “So you at least know or follow Leshy… or maybe you are spying for Shamura? And then there's Kallamar and Heket.”
The goat hissed, his fur and crown bristling at the mention of the purple bishop. They blinked at him, tilting her head. “Am I wrong then? Are you a slave just trying to get past?”
“I am nothing of the sort.” He growled. “I am their downfall.”
She put her hands up. “hold the intensity there, I hate them just as much as you do.” she finished wrapping her leg in some spare cloth and got up, trying to balance on just one. “Tell you what, come with me and I’ll give you a nice bed and a warm meal for the night, okay? I have a feeling we need to talk more but it can wait till tomorrow.”
He watched her carefully, standing quietly after her to offer an arm. “Can you even walk right now?”
“It’ll heal fast.” she tried to wave him off, limping over to a tree then pausing. She pulled down her crown, a black one, and turned it into a crutch.
He hesitated only a moment, soon running after her. If anything, just to be sure she even made it wherever she was going. “Sure, whatever. Just don’t fall.”
“I’ll be fine .” she assured him. She hobbled into a nearby clearing, where she drew up a circle on the ground and pulled him with her onto it. The ritual was familiar, and popped them both out right into the entrance to the Lambs own cult. “I will warn you though, I will kill you if you try to touch my cultists.”
“Naturally.” He shrugged. “Do I need permissions? Like, do you have a warding rune up or am I safe to just walk?”
“Oh, is that what that is?” She mumbled. “Rataou made those, uh…” she sketched something in the dirt under him, then hobbled past the boundary line, drawing the same thing. “Stay still.”
She pressed her hand to the symbol, stepped back, and Goat popped up right in front of her. She gave him a small smile.
“I'm so glad that worked and didn't just rip you apart.” She said.
“ I’m sorry?” He balked, staring at the maniac before him.
She blinked at him. “I'm still not perfect at it. Taken off an arm or leg myself before.” She laughed lightly, “don't worry, I was more careful with yours, but it's still a possibility!”
“Do you do that to you cultists?” He tilted his head.
“Ha!” She shook her head. “No, but I didn't think another crown user would want to be indoctrinated so soon. You're a special case”
The goat nodded. “Fair enough. Thanks… i suppose.”
“Yeah!” She turned and crutched into the cult as a few animals came to greet her. From what he could see, she only had seven followers wandering about.
“How many bishops have you faced?” He asked, following behind her by a few paces.
She paused, patting a doe on the shoulder as she glanced back at him. “Uh… None yet? Leshy is up first.”
“ First?” He stopped dead. “You haven’t faced anyone yet?”
“I've got two… or now three mini bosses.” She pointed to the two green monstrosities she'd let into her cult.
“Oh.” He blinked, covering his mouth. Oh she was just a baby. She was patting the head of a blue bunny happily, and chatting with her other followers as they fussed and wanted to fix her leg.
“Can I ask,” he started softly. “Why are you here?”
“I…” she squinted at him, “I live here.”
“No, no, like… why are you here. Fighting this fight” he pointed at her crown.
She stared at him for a moment, then turned to her followers, quietly sending them off to do tasks. She turned back to him and hobbled over, but walked past him. “Come.”
He followed behind her simply, trotting bouncilly.
She led him to the temple, letting him follow her inside and up behind the altar. She sat down there with a huff, pulling out some supplies from behind the stand to bandage her leg properly.
“Would you like help?” He offered. She looked up at him and gave him a smile.
“If you know how, sure.”
He nodded, bounding over to her. He knelt at her leg holding a hand out for the bandages.
She handed them over, then peeled off the makeshift ones from before. “I am the vessel for the Red crown.”
“I assumed as much.” He nodded. “Were you made to be such?”
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion, putting the dirty cloth aside, pulling out a cup of water to try to clean what she could off her thigh. “I was just a normal person before.”
He paused, his ear flitting as he processed her words. “You were?”
She nodded. “I… the lambs were part of a prophecy… so the bishops tried to eradicate them all.”
“Oh…” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I happened to be the last one, they thought they were preventing the prophecy but… but they just sent me right to the one who waits.” She lifted her hand to pull back some of the wool around her throat, revealing a jagged scar going right through it.
He grimaced in sympathy, ducking his head down. “A miscalculation on their part.” He hummed.
She nodded. “I agreed to start a cult for the one who waits in exchange for getting rid of the bishops.”
He looked back up to meet her eyes. “You’re hesitant?”
“They slaughtered my entire race.” Her expression darkened. “My friends, my family, all cause they were scared.” She let out a light huff, “so I'll be something worth that fear.”
He blinked, nodding after a moment before he returned to caring for her injury. “My apologies.”
“You're fine.” She gave him another small smile, the dark aura she'd given off before dissapeared in the blink of an eye. “You didn't know.”
He gave her a small grin back.
“What about you?” She asked. “How did you come about the crown?”
“It is a long story… that I am not entirely sure how to tell.” He admitted, tying off the bandages and patting her hoof. “The bishops I know of are very different to what I have heard of yours.”
She hummed. “Am I wrong in guessing your crown was from Shamura?”
“You are not.” He hummed back. “Although not by their choice.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head. “I'm intrigued.”
He took a deep breath in, “I have reason to believe… I’m not from this world. My Shamura is the one who waits, they were banished for trying to amass an army.”
The Lamb hummed, “mine was banished for trying to kill the other bishops… i think? Either way, there was a fight when they banished her, and each of the bishops were injured.”
“As were mine.” The goat nodded. “Each had a part of them ruined for what they took away.”
She nodded along. “Same here.”
“Ears, eyes, throat and mind?” He asked.
She nodded. “Kallamars ears, Leshy’s eyes, Hekets throat, and Shamura’s mind.”
The goats head popped up. “They should have taken their mind! That would have been so much more effective than their hands. ” He hissed. “Ugh.”
She snickered. “Oh? Was your order different too?”
He nodded. “I was given a deal to take them out for good.” He squeezed his own hands, keeping his brain on track. “But they never held up their end of the deal, and tried to take me out in turn. It was Shamura, Kallamar, Naren, Heket and Leshy.”
“Who’s Naren?” she asked.
“Big ol dog.” The goat shrugged. “He was the kindest out of them all.”
She shook her head. “We only have 4 bishops.”
The goat tilted his head. “What about your One Who Waits?”
“Shes not a dog… shes a three-eyed cat.”
“Maybe they’re all different?” He offered. “What species are your bishops?”
“Leshy is a bagworm, Heket is a frog, Kallamar is a squid and Shamura is a black widow spider.”
“ My leshy was a centipede, Heket was a toad, Kallamar was an octopus and Shamura was a tarantula.” He listed.
“Huh.” the lamb nodded. “Makes sense then. Everything is slightly off kilter.”
“So it seems.” He agreed.
They sat there for a second in relative silence before she quietly asked, “do you want to go back to your world?”
He waited to think, eventually shaking his head. “There is nothing left for me there.”
She looked up at him, her previously guarded red eyes now big brown and wet.
He felt himself stiffen. “Are you okay?”
She looked down, nodding.
“Do… do you need anything?” He tried.
She shook her head. “You helped me out in killing Barbaros… I suppose that means I should be asking you that. I owe you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He assured. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It quite literally managed to kill me.” She deadpanned.
“You came back.” He blurted.
“You didn’t know I would.” she giggled.
“Eeeeeh.” He shrugged. “A fight is a fight.”
She snorted. “Right, and I have yet to find anyone that won't scream and run from one. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing.” He smiled. “You taking me in for the night is enough.”
“Ill find something.” she nodded assuredly. “You done with that?”
“Yes, sorry.” He scooted back with his hands up.
“Thanks.” she adjusted the bandages a little more comfortably before getting up, testing her weight. “Seems it’s already starting to heal.”
“That’s good.” He smiled, hopping up after her.
He followed her around the cult helping with various tasks as night fell and her cultists headed to bed. She went over to the farm and started picking berries.
“So.” The goat hummed as he tossed some into a small basket. “I just realized I never asked your name.”
“Everyone just calls me the lamb.” she mumbled. “Hard to get me mixed up when there are no others around.”
“That’s fair.” He hummed. “It’s why Shamura called me goat.”
“Does that mean you prefer a different one? Or maybe choose a different one, a new start.”
“I have one.” He replied quickly. “Savan. My brothers gave it to me.”
She gave him a small smile. “Inez.”
“It’s a nice name.” He smiled back. “It fits you.”
She nodded. “brothers?”
“Two of them. Syren and Veda.”
She smiled a little. “I had two older siblings, twins. Harlem and Nirva.”
“Veda was the littlest,” He murmured softly, “Syren the oldest. But they were the smartest out of all of us.”
“Goats like you?”
“No.” Savan shook his head. “A Lamb and a Ram.”
“Oh…” she paused. “Were there any others, or just you three?”
“Just us, although there were plans for more… but they never came to fruition.” He shrugged.
“May I ask what happened?”
“Shamura’s capture.” He answered simply.
She just blinked at him, a little confused.
“Its hard to explain.” He shrugged.
“Alright.” she went back to her berry picking task, offering out a handful. “Eat something.”
He blinked, taking the handful with a soft smile. “You don’t have to waste any on me. The crown keeps me going.”
“You look starved.” she said. “Just because you won’t die without, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have any.”
“Thanks.” He chuckled, downing them all fast while barely chewing.
She watched him for a moment, then went back to her task.
“Can I ask about your siblings?” He asked, shifting to plant seeds for the replaceable plants.
She was quiet for a moment, then hummed, “they were… captured, protecting me. They hid me in a hollowed out tree trunk and distracted the oncoming cultists. I… that was the last I saw them alive .”
“Were they nice?” He looked up at her to watch her face.
She smiled sadly. “Yeah. Harlem had a bit of a temper and Nirva was pretty street smart. Between the two of them they got us out of every situation we came across up to that point.”
“Got any fun stories?”
She looked down at the ground, shaking her head.
“Did you guys have a town you lived in, or was it just you?” He probed gently.
She got up with her basket. “Just us. I dont remember our parents.”
He snatched his own to trail after her. “Fair enough.”
They fell into silence again before the Lamb turned to look at him with a strained smile. “You should head to bed. I had them make you up a bedroll with some space away from the cultists so you can have some privacy.”
“I can do more work if there’s more to do.” He frowned. “I don’t need sleep.”
“What did we just talk about?” she asked.
“If that’s the case than you should sleep too.” He huffed crossing his arms.
“ I am practically a walking corpse.” she said. “And i have shit to do.”
“So am I, and I can help. ”
“Shamura isn’t the god of death.”
“Still managed to fool it.” He muttered. “Death’s… weird. ”
“Painful sometimes.” she chuckled. “Now shoo, off to bed. I gotta cook breakfast.”
He pouted, shuffling back reluctantly. “Is there really nothing else I could do?”
She looked around, then back at him. “There's not even 10 people living here, I think you’re good.”
He grumbled to himself, scuffing the dirt with his hoof.
“Oh dont pout.” she chuckled. “rest.”
He scrunched up his snout, sticking out his tongue as he turned to leave.
She snorted, but went ahead to the fire pit anyways.
Savan stamped his way to his own bedroll, plopping down to sit with his arms crossed. He stared at the leafy blanket, soft and hand sewn, a few threads messy but sturdy.
He ran his hands across it, his thoughts bouncing around his skull like a fly to glass. He never did like to sleep, far too dull. It was always a last resort if he had nothing else to do, only more of a common occurrence recently.
He hated it.
He sat for maybe a few minutes before he pulled his bedroll to the closest tree. He leaned his back up against it, the blanket across his lap as he let his eyes shut.