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dakota-writes · 1 month

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When The Day Turns To Night

Hello hello!! This is my first fic to this blog and came to be bc of the recent eclipse! It's heavily angsty bc I love to torture my audience LOL

Fandom: Cult of The Lamb

CW; major character death, violence, possession, plans of betrayal/betrayal

The Lamb frowned, adjusting the crown on their head in an unnerved fashion. The thing had always had a mind of its own, but for the past few days, it had become increasingly and unnervingly autonomous, going so far as to shift into weapons on its own without reason. Thankfully, it had yet to happen in front of any of the followers, but Lamb had no doubt that it was an inevitability. With every passing day, the crown grew more difficult to control.

"Something the matter, Lamb?" A familiar voice called. Lamb turned to find Narinder approaching them, his usual scowl laced with a hint of curiosity.

"No, why do you ask?" Lamb responded, giving a cheery smile in greeting.

"You've been more... distant, the past few days." Narinder looked the Lamb over briefly, an ear flicking. "The followers are beginning to notice."

"Oh! That." Lamb rubbed the back of their neck, "It's nothing-"

"It's the crown, isn't it?" Narinder interjected, voice lowered to keep anyone else from overhearing. Lamb blinked, shocked, but before they could ask how he knew, the former death god continued. "There's an eclipse coming. It's been trying to tell you."

"How do you know?" Lamb asked.

"I kept track of these things. It's an opportunity to gain more power." He responded with a shrug, "There wasn't much else to do after being locked away."

The Lamb hummed, though the crown didn't seem to settle. They thought nothing of it, chalking it up to it's anticipation for the event.

"Then I suppose a ritual is in order." They said, sowing the last berry seed they'd been planting before straightening and wiping off their hooves from the dirt. Narinder glanced at the crown before facing Lamb.

"How do you wish to go about it?" He asked, earning a smile from the Lamb.

"Not going to tell me how I should?" They teased.

"You've never listened to me before."

"That's a lie, and you know it." Lamb snorted, moving past the former death god and out of the field, "Lying to your god, what a heathen. Maybe I should sit you in the prison for a day or two." The words were laced with too much amusement to be anything close to serious, and the sly grin that Lamb tossed over their shoulder at Narinder only cemented the fact that it was simple teasing.

Narinder rolled his eyes.

"Then you'd be the one to keep Aym and Baal in check." He quipped, giving a knowing look to the smaller Lamb. They only hummed as the two crossed into the main portion of the small village, where most of the buzz happened.

"What makes you think I couldn't?"

"I'm not saying you couldn't. You just wouldn't enjoy it." Narinder responded easily.

Lamb snorted but didn't respond otherwise, leading the taller sphynx cat into the church. It was an unspoken game they played, going back and forth like this, and almost always ended in one of them refusing to admit something the other would call them out for. Now was no different.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Lamb approached the alter and flipped through the book upon it.

"What are you doing?" Narinder asked.

"Well, I figure if I'm to do a ritual, I may as well find some inspiration on how to go about it - unless you're willing to give up your secrets." They responded, not looking up.

He was silent for a moment before humming and looking away.

"I don't think you could stomach it."

That raised Lamb's gaze, and they tilted their head.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're-..." Narinder seemed at a loss for words, for a moment. "... soft."

"And?"

Narinder's tail flicked.

"You know exactly where this conversation will lead."

"Kindness isn't weakness, Narinder. I would have thought you'd have figured that out by now." Lamb said, stepping down from the alter and bringing the book with them.

A week or so passed before the eclipse came. Narinder still refused to reveal the ritual he would use during his days as a death god, and the other former bishops were useless in the matter, as they had never performed such arcane matters. Lamb didn't bother going to Aym or Baal, as the twins were more likely to accidentally talk them in circles than reveal anything useful in a reasonable amount of time. Which left them preparing and arranging the ritual from scratch with bits from the book and small pieces of advice from Ratau.

Narinder, however, did help in his own way, subtly fixing certain bits whenever the Lamb was away and the followers weren't looking. Aym and Baal assisted, of course, loyal to him as they were. Both Lamb and Ratau didn't notice the subtle shift in the sigils and runes placed upon the ground in preparation - but how could they, when the three were so very careful in making sure the followers kept them busy? And when the followers weren't an option, the crown certainly helped. Narinder's warning hadn't satisfied it, and still it acted out of turn, much to Lamb's dismay.

By the time the day of the eclipse came, the site had transformed from an empty spot before the Lamb's shrine to a heavily decorated and runed ritual site. The followers gathered before it, pulling their hoods onto their heads as they took their designated spots. Narinder watched with Lamb, glancing briefly to the sky to catch the moon slowly beginning its journey across the sun. He hummed.

"We'll be starting proper, soon."

"The peak of the ritual will match with the peak of the eclipse." Lamb responded, earning a pleased hum from the former death god beside them.

"A wise decision, leader."

Lamb couldn't help but snort at Narinder's unprompted formality, and moved to take their place at the head of the group, stepping atop a small platform to raise themselves above the followers. Narinder followed, though stepped off to the side of the platform... ever the perfect image of support to the great leader. The ritual began with chanting and praise to the Lamb, as most of them did, but as the moon drew closer to its peak position, the chanting grew more rapid - and the physical manifestation of the followers' faith began to appear in the center of the group. Lamb prepared themselves to accept it and the power that would come with it... and oddly enough, so did Narinder, though Lamb couldn't see it. However, neither did. Instead, when the moon finally blocked out the sun, the crown absorbed the faith and power. And Lamb's eyes promptly turned blood red. By the time Narinder caught it, it was too late, and Lamb whirled onto the former death god.

There was a moment of hesitation. Just long enough for Narinder to see Lamb fighting off the control of the crown. A moment where the Lamb's eyes returned to their natural hue before the red overtook them again.

And then Lamb lunged.

Narinder tried to dodge, but there were too many others in his way, crowding him in, and he tumbled as Lamb crashed into him. The crown transformed into the dagger Lamb so preferred, and Narinder had just enough time to knock it away before Lamb could get a grip on it.

"Lamb! Lamb, fight it!" Narinder shouted, gripping the cult leader's cloak to throw them off and get back to his feet. The crowd was thinning now, the followers terrified and unwilling to try to stop their leader. But it gave him room to move.

"Aym! Baal! Get the followers out of here!" Narinder shouted again, rolling out of the way as Lamb lunged again. They laughed as the twins began rounding up followers to bring to safety, picking up the dagger. But the sound was distorted from the usual cheerful noise that it would have been. It sounded older and bitter, and bit like a rusty axe.

"Too afraid to fight, The One Who Waits?" Lamb - or, rather, the Crown - asked. It was a taunt and Narinder knew it. He didn't bite, watching Lamb's movements like a hawk, waiting for the next attack as they circled each other. "You boast so often about your supremacy, and yet you won't lay a hand on this vessel. Why is that, Narinder?"

The former god gritted his teeth against the words, refusing to respond - to give the Crown anything to work with. The result was Lamb lunging again, catching the blade along Narinder's ribs despite the cat dodging. The wound was shallow but burned like a fire had been set, and it was in that moment that Narinder realized the Crown had transformed into the Bane Dagger. ... well, at least it could be said the Crown had a sense of irony.

Another lunge and another dodge sent Narinder crashing over the platform Lamb had been standing on just moments prior. The position left him vulnerable for a few seconds too long, and Lamb lunged once more, dagger poised to kill, but the former god caught their wrists to stop them.

"Lamb, you know you don't want to do this. Fight back." He grunted, and Lamb let out that distorted laugh once more.

"Still trying to reach them? I'm afraid they aren't available at this moment." They said, pushing their weight against Narinder to inch closer to his heart. "You were a great vessel, though. It's a shame that this one is better. How lowly of you, to fall to a mortal."

Narinder grunted again as the Crown pushed further and hissed as the dagger finally cut through his cloak. The poison from the scratch on his ribs was already weakening him, the pain creeping across the rest of his body like ivy, invading, and ruthless.

"I will relish your agony and that of this vessel's until I find a truly worthy one." The Crown snarled before, with one final shove, plunging the dagger into Narinder's chest. Fiery pain exploded throughout the cat's body, pulling a ragged gasp from him. Out of the corner of his vision, he could see the twins return, take note of the situation, and ready their weapons. The Crown did, too, and gave a chilling smile before standing, ripping the dagger out of Narinder's chest with the movement.

"No!" Narinder gasped, forcing himself to sit up, even as it made his vision swim with the pain. "Aym, don't! Baal!"

But they were already engaging, and Narinder could only watch in horror as the Crown shifted to the Merciless Sword and puppeteered the Lamb effortlessly through the twins' attacks... both fell dead within moments, their blood seeping through the crevices in the cobblestone to Narinder's feet.

The Crown didn't look back, didn't wipe the blood from itself or from the Lamb. It only turned and stalked out of the village.

Lamb felt nauseous. So absolutely sick and violated. This felt like a fever dream. Or one of the nightmares they sometimes had of the slaughter of the other lambs, where they could do nothing but sit and watch in horror until it was finally their turn to die. Only this was real, so horribly real. The metallic tang of blood in the air and the warm wet of it on their hooves and wool kept them grounded in this horrible reality.

They tried with everything they had to fight back, slamming against the metaphoric walls that kept them trapped within their own body. Especially as they recognized the path to Ratau's home. No. No, they couldn't allow this to continue. They couldn't allow this damned Crown to continue this senseless slaughter.

"Hush, little Lamb. It'll be over before you know it." The Crown cooed, wrapping itself around the Lamb's hooves in the Tempest's Gauntlets.

"Let me out, you damned traitor!" Lamb roared, slamming themselves against the wall. The Crown only laughed and gave no further response as it passed the brush dividing Ratau's home from the forest. It didn't bother with taunts or niceties, only ripping the door from its hinges and stepping inside. Lamb sobbed inside themselves as they were forced to watch their friend torn asunder as the Crown laughed wretchedly.

They almost gave up. They almost let the Crown have its way. They were so close to breaking, after losing everything and building back up just to have it ripped from them again. But as the eclipse began to pass, and with one final, desperate push, Lamb broke past the wall. The Crown hissed and tried to turn the gauntlets against them, but they forced it instead to shift back to its original crown form before ripping off their cloak and wrapping it tightly around the artifact, sobbing.

Everyone. Everyone that Lamb had come to care for. Everyone but-

Lamb gasped and shoved the Crown into the chest that Ratau stored his game of Knucklebones inside before sprinting out. By the time they reached the village, the sun was completely uncovered, and their wool was crusted with blood and dirt. They didn't care, rushing to the shrine where Narinder now sat against, cradling his wound.

"Narinder!" Lamb cried, rushing to his side, breathless. They couldn't stop the tears from bubbling back up, choking back a hiccuping sob as they saw the cat's blackened veins from the poison in his system.

"... knew you could do it." Narinder rasped, giving a rare smile.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Narinder." Lamb babbled, tears falling as they pushed his hands away from his wound. "I can fix this. I'm going to fix this. Everything's going to be fine." They continued, pouring their power into trying to heal the former god.

Narinder gave a wry huff of a laugh, grabbing Lamb's hooves and holding onto them.

"You know better than to try and use power you don't have." He chastised softly. The words pulled a proper sob out of the Lamb.

"Please, Narinder, I can fix this, just let me-"

"Listen, Lamb." Narinder interrupted, "I'm sorry. This is my fault. I messed with your ritual. Adjusted the runes to give myself the power to take the Crown back. Aym and Baal helped."

Lamb shook their head.

"I don't care-"

Narinder only pushed on, taking a ragged breath.

"The fact is, you've always been a better wielder of it. A better leader, too. That you managed to break from its control is a testament to that. No one else could have managed it, not even I." He said, reaching to place a hand against Lamb's cheek. "I don't know how, as soft as you are."

Lamb laughed through another sob, leaning into Narinder's touch.

"Kindness isn't weakness."

It was Narinder's turn to laugh.

"I suppose not." He responded, smiling again bittersweet. "I just wish this was not how I learned that lesson. A shame. I would have liked to find whatever peace you have."

Lamb shook their head.

"Don't talk like that. Don't say that."

Narinder pulled Lamb forward with what little strength he had left, placing a kiss against their forehead.

"Rule with a gentle hand, Lamb. As only you know how." He said with his last breath before finally falling limp in the Lamb's arms. The followers that were brave enough to finally return to the village could hear the wail of sorrow that followed shortly after.

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