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Draw em however you wish, I have full faith on the fact that you would draw them perfectly! Also your drawings are inspiring too, they are truly wonderful.

Hi again!

I've read the 10th chapter of TBF and I'm really interested in Narinder' past with Baal & Aym. Would you mind to tell some more things about them? Like some good memories they share

Hello! Firstly, I am happy that you have read the 10th chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Secondly I would love to talk about it but I feel like making a story is a little bit better, you know show don't tell and all that stuff they keep saying. So I decided to write that story of the Brook or the River situation in its entirety. By the way, I am sorry if I am a bit late as again the Uni decided to pull a fast one on me along with the new years eve doing its usual thing. Anyhow I hope you enjoy this one. Also anyone else who wants to ask for a prompt, feel free I am open. It doesn’t have to be about TBF it can just be normaş Cotl or really any Au

Brook or River

Trek was not long, nor was it treacherous. It was rather pleasant indeed, he thought as he made his way through the soft grass yet tall grass. There was a mild wind in the air, but it was not cold as it was warm. Sun shone in the sky as it was now way into the afternoon.

As he pushed aside the tall grass he could hear the brothers behind him following the path he had made through the grass. They were on a journey to the place Aym had described as ‘The giant river with all the fish and the pond and the birds and the’ so on and so forth. That boy sure likes to speak, he thought as he tried to look out for the river while trying not to blind himself. Even with the veil helping with the sun shining above it was still hard not to get his eyes burnt.

As they exited the plains and entered the more forested areas, he started to hear Aym talking to Baal.

Aym looked proud as he said ‘’It was so huge you could put a whole ship in it, like the ones on the coast’’ He opened his arms wide to show how big it was supposed to be.

Baal rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics ‘‘there is no way, we are in a forest, it is too big for that’’ Narinder let out a chuckle as he heard the indignant noises that came from Aym.

He scoffed ‘’You will see, it is so large that I am gonna make a ship myself then I am gonna go over the horizon and you are just gonna stay here’’ He giggled before continuing ‘’Maybe you can befriend the fish while I sail across the sea’’

This time it was Baal’s turn to splutter indignantly as he yelled ‘’You can’t just leave me!’’ He turned back to Narinder ‘’Isn’t that right Master?’’

He smiled at his young servants ‘’Well if it is a big ship I might wish to join in with him’’ He couldn’t suppress his chuckle as he heard Baal gasp.

He could see his face turn red as he looked like he was about to cry out of frustration ‘’You two cannot just leave me! I-’’ Before he could finish himself and most likely burst into tears Narinder turned around and took both the brothers and embraced them both.

After a second he let go of them, they still remained in his arms as he said ‘’I am just joking my little Baal, I am not planning on abandoning either of you ever. All for one and one for all.’’ He smiled to the brothers ‘’We do not leave each other ever not for venture, nor glory’’

He could see the way Baal seemingly calmed down, but he also saw Aym deflate a little. He felt a sigh almost escape him as he saw the way Aym looked at him with those disappointed eyes. He knew that Aym was not really thinking of staying here forever, he was too free spirited for that. Though he would eventually break that out of him. It would take him some time but slowly he would stop him from these silly dreams. He had to. He could not lose him too, He would not lose him too. He had already lost too much, never again.

Aym’s sudden shout took him out of his thoughts ‘’Here! Here!’’ He pointed at the brook up ahead, which was definitely not a river. He looked down the way he pointed and yeah, there was just the brook.

Baal looked over his brother who was still looking over the small brook with wondrous eyes ‘’That is not a river dumb dumb, that's a brook’’

Aym’s wondrous look shifted into an indignant scowl ‘’No, that’s a river’’

Baal rolled his eyes before he jumped out of Narinder’s arms to the ground, landing perfectly on the rock as was expected of him. He got close to the brook and dipped his leg into the brook which proved it to be rather shallow as it only came up just slightly above his knee. Without a word he just turned to his brother with a look that said ’Are you sure?’

Aym took his brother’s example and got next to him to dip his own leg into the water to confirm that yes, it was indeed shallow. Undisturbed by this he claimed ‘’It is just a small river’’

Baal slapped his forehead ‘’That is called a brook you dumdum’’

This time it seemed like it was Aym’s turn to look at his brother indignantly as his face grew red ‘’Don’t call me a dumdum, you dumdum! It is a river if I say it is a river’’ He turned to Narinder ‘’Isn’t that right master?’’

Before he could answer him Baal cut him off ‘’Don’t waste Master’s time with this. Master has no time for things like this’’ He looked at Narinder ‘’Isn’t that right Master?’’

Before he could answer him this time it was Aym who cut him off ‘’I am not wasting his time, you are!’’

And it started, the brother’s started their little scuffle with hands flying into each other in an odd slap fight. He could chuckle at their childish doings but really, he knew where this was headed. It would only be a moment before they would start attacking each other with curses and their staffs, which was good for training sure but he didn’t want the brother’s to be mad at eachother for the next week or two as both would get injured.

So weighing his options he decided the only viable one, or in other words the fun one. The brothers were in the middle of arguing what constitutes a curse before they were both lifted by their robes and dropped into the river.

There was peace, for but one moment before all oblivion broke loose. Shouting and hissing the two brothers started to yell over each other. However he couldn’t focus on what they were saying as he was laughing his ass off. It was perfect the way two looked at him like he had stabbed them in the back, the betrayal he saw in their furious eyes was too good.

Eventually though he knew what he had to do, as he shrunk himself in a moment before he too threw himself into the shallow brook. Splashing the two brothers and coating himself in cold water of the brook. It was only fair he should join them, all for one and one for all afterall.

Seeing the playing field becoming more fair the brothers teamed up against him, seemingly forgetting their dispute as they started to splash water on him. Their attacks were countered by his own as he began his own onslaught.

It went on for a while but eventually they decided to call it off as the water was getting colder by the moment. As they got out of the water he could tell it was getting into lunch time. Now by this point they should have been back at the temple with brothers eating lunch and getting some training done while he took care of a ritual or two.

After some thinking he decided that the followers could wait for a bit. He got both the brothers to take out their staffs and stand over a rock in the brook. they looked at him with both their heads tilted quizzically

He turned to them with his own crown turning into a trident like his own brother once showed him, before… He decided to avoid that thought for now. He cleared his throat ‘’Alright you two, now normally we should be back at the temple’’ He saw both the brother’s face fell but before they could complain he continued ‘’But, I decided that instead of learning some ancient war tactic or two, I would teach you both how to fish.’’ He smiled as he saw both the brothers perk up to his words.

He showed them how to hold their staff correctly for fishing before He demonstrated how to wait for the fish and strike at the right moment. At first the only thing they catched was bits of moss and water. Aym almost threw his staff away before he took it and showed him he was holding it slightly wrong. But eventually both the brothers started to learn what he was trying to teach them.

In the end, he caught around four fish. He could probably have gotten more but he didn’t want the brothers to get upset and besides they couldn’t even eat that many anyway. Other than Baal who almost got stabbed by Aym because he thought his feet were a fish. He could say that ‘their class’ was a success as they had caught three fish of their own. With one for each brother and plus one they caught with teamwork.

Now they sat around the fire they made together, cooking the fish and trying to dry their cloaks and fur. As he tended the fire he heard Aym and Baal discussing the previous water fight.

Aym showed up his hands with six of his fingers open. ‘’That makes six plus the ones before it makes at least twenty four points’’

Baal nodded as he showed his own five fingers ‘’Indeed, add my five and it makes it twenty nine points’’ He turned to Narinder ‘’Which means we won’’ He said with both brothers looking at him proudly.

He chuckled, shaking his head ‘’I didn’t know we had a point system. Enlighten me you two, how many points have I gotten?’’

The brothers looked at each other as they started to count; they looked up to each other before nodding. Aym begun ‘’You got around thirty’’

Baal took up where his brother left ‘’But since you are old you only get half the points’’

Rolling his eyes Narinder turned the fish to their sides to keep them from burning ‘’Unfortunately even so I have still won, my dear servants as I have gotten sixty points’’ The brothers looked at him confused before going back to calculating with frowns gracing their brows. He didn’t know how many points he had or really what they got points out of, but really he didn’t really care. He knew the brothers would argue about it either way.

As he looked at the two brothers as they calculated their points again, he felt a pride blossom within him. Even at such a young age, such capable fighters with such loyalty. As a fond smile grew across his face he knew they would be together, no matter what. He would make sure of it. After all it was all for one and one for all wasn’t it? https://archiveofourown.org/works/43839834/chapters/110724444

Heh, I can remember my own first chapter, all the excitement, all the plans for the future.

Anyhow, glad to hear you want to write more of it! I shall readddd em as you writttte em.

I finally did it!! I can't believe I wrote this by myself, honestly. I'm still new to writing stuff so I'm not sure of this text is enough readable but I already like the beginning of the story.

Also, I was planning to make it...bigger. Like, a lot bigger. But I guess that this chapter wasn't in need of too much details

Alright my fellow tumblr people,  I have survived the ilness which has taken hold of me and I stand victorious over it. Other than that there is not much to say, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I will try to be faster in the new episodes now that I don’t feel terrible but I still got a uni to worry about so... yeah

My Lot

 Alright, this is a short story I wrote from a request I got from Discord. It is about an interaction between their OC and the whole Bishop gang, told from sort of the point of view of Heket. It is sort of a sweet story, well as sweet as I tend to make my stories but I am sure there is enough fluf and angst for both sides here.

Oh and as usual the Ao3 link is down there if you all wanna read it there. (:

It was a quick affair, a simple chant uttered before the knife met the flesh. Simple and efficient, a rush of faith and strength washing over before pooling over one’s core. Normally, not a single thing that should go wrong barring the odd last moment regrets or a particularly unwilling sacrifice causing a ruckus that would be dealt in but a moment.

Or it should have been but somehow, someway now they were stuck deciding what to do with a newborn rabbit.

Trying to dull out the absurdity of their situation she rubbed at her eyes, trying to focus on what was being said in front of her to take her attention away. As expected her siblings were talking endlessly about how to proceed without coming to a conclusion.

To think they came to this moment just because of a sacrifice their chaotic little brother chose from her lot, who happened to be pregnant. Then the said follower giving birth just before getting sacrificed instead of passing away with the child to save them the trouble.

Well At the very least the she rabbit had relented quickly and without causing further trouble she thought, which was probably the only silver lining to their current situation.

All these strange and totally not planned incidents led them to this very moment. Instead of attending to their lot and perhaps changing their bandages or really anything than to waste their time here. Instead they had to sit around and speak on a subject so benign it should be left for their respective witnesses to deal with it.

Groaning softly against her arm, she looked around lazily. She would curse at her once follower, but in all honestly their chaotic brother was more at blame for their predicament than the obedient but perhaps unwilling follower. The very same brother who was snickering as he was watching their siblings argue from the side.

If she could hear her own voice over the shouts coming from Kallamar arguing with their eldest, she would be giving the bush worm a piece of her mind. However, that would have to wait. For now.

With a sigh she once again tried to pay attention to their conversation.

A shrill voice belonging to Kallamar rang out ‘’I am telling you, this will not end well!’’ Rolling her eyes at their second youngest’s antics she focused on their eldest instead.

Running a claw over their face and with a much calmer but obviously strained voice Shamura spoke ‘’My venerable Brother, can you explain to us how an infant is to cause any harm to us?’’

Pointing at the infant in question who was currently babbling in her basket ‘’It is obviously going to try to hunt us down when it is older! Can't you see it?’’ Looking at the rabbit that was smaller than a single finger of her she normally would have laughed at the suggestion coming from their brother. How could a mortal even hope to do that? Alas, she couldn’t make her amusement known due to… the injuries.

Great she thought, now she was conscious about her throat on top of being bored out of her mind.

Lost in the thought and desperately trying to stop the creeping pain she almost couldn’t hear the cries coming from the newborn. It was shrill noise as expected, reverberating against the stone temple walls and echoing back to them.

She had to give it to her, she had good lungs, but yet it was rather futile. Desperately crying out for someone that could not come to her aid was just a waste of time. No use spilling tears when it got you no results.

Now only if their brother could figure that out she thought, now with a smirk she could almost ignore the continued wailing. Almost.

Looking at her siblings she didn’t see any reaction from any one of them at the sobs coming from the newborn. Kallamar was still complaining as he tended to, Shamura was still trying to speak some sense into him with limited success and Leshy was just being Leshy.

With a deeper than usual sigh she moved her hand to the infant. She did not know much about child rearing but she did know that she was probably just hungry. It was her domain afterall.

It didn’t take much of her power to satiate the little thing, but slightly more than she thought it should have been. Suddenly her smirk grew into a smile for some odd reason, and before she could stop herself words fell off her mouth ‘’Ravenous little thing ain’t you?’’

It was strange finding fondness in her own voice in that moment, then again anything but a raspy hoarse noise was hard to hear out of her these days.

Lost in thought she didn’t hear her siblings until she felt Shamura’s hand on her shoulder. It took her a moment to realize what was happening as she turned her head back to face their eldest. She was met with Their four eyes looking at her expectedly.

Her usual quite heart pounding in its place it took her a moment to get her senses back enough to ask them ‘’U-um yes my eldest?’’ Her words fumbled slightly as she tried to address them properly.

They sighed before retreating their claw back ‘’I had asked you your opinion on the matter’’ She blinked at his words, all four opening and closing blankly. Right, she was still here and was supposed to add her own opinion.

What could she even really add to the conversation though? She didn’t really share their brother’s ideas of sacrificing the newborn for some odd paranoid reason felt… cruel.

Which as strange as it sounded didn’t really sit well with her. Gathering her thoughts she spoke carefully ’’I suppose we can entrust her with another follower?’’ It made sense to her, why bother with all this talk instead of letting the little nuisance be taken care of instead.

They shook their heads slowly ‘’No, we cannot do that.’’ they continued after a pause ‘’The family that would receive the child would see it as a boon we are bestowing with at best, which would upset the rest of the followers or perhaps be seen as a burden we are punishing with.’’

Right she supposed she did not really think about that, meeting her sibling’s eyes ‘’I see’’

With a tinge of disappointment she could feel radiating out of her sibling ‘’Do please pay attention to our meetings sister’’ They looked back away from them as they added quietly ‘’it is unbecoming of you.’’

Looking away to hide her shame ‘’Of course Eldest’’ Looking around to see if anyone had seen their interaction she saw Leshy giggling off to the side. Clenching her fist against her robes under the table she uttered curses unheard by mortal ears, in languages long forgotten. That worm really deserved an earful.

But as it seemed their brother was not just content with being amused off to the side after his mischief, as suddenly his arm flew towards the newborn. Snatching the little thing in one fell swoop.

She felt her slow heart skip a beat as the youngest started  ‘’Look, the way I see it there is only one way around this’’ he begun to methodically throw the basket into the air and catching it in his hand, in way that would be playful if it didn’t seem like he was enjoying his sibling’s reaction rather than the ‘game’ he was playing with the newborn.

Clearing his throat ‘’None of you are willing to sacrifice it, none of you wanna find someone to take care of it’’ In a moment his teeth shone with a bone white brilliance, taking a feral look expected of him ‘’Then I suppose it would be fine for me to take her under my wing’’

The whole counsel grew quiet in a moment as each of the bishops took in the news differently. Kallamar seemed content at the idea as she saw him visibly calm down, no doubt thinking that their brother would get bored of the little thing and discard it quickly. As for Shamura, they seemed like they were considering the option, weighing the pros and cons.

She on the other hand only felt a cold creep from within her very core, a cold that could not be explained with mere weather. Their youngest taking care of anything let alone a baby felt… wrong.

As she considered the mere idea of it all the scenarios started to fill her mind. Maybe he would leave the little thing to fend for herself in the woods to see what would happen or perhaps they would just let chaser worms take care of her and see what would come of her in the end.

Each scenario worse than the last she couldn’t stop herself before she caught the basket in the middle of his throw before catching it back, cradling the basket to her chest she spoke with a almost a feral voice ‘’She is my lot’’

In a moment, all eyes fell on her. After what felt like a century Kallamar spoke first ‘’What did you say sist-’’

‘’It is my lot, their mother was a part of my cult.’’ She frowned towards their youngest as she shielded the baby with her arms ‘’Therefore she is mine’’ she felt the gaze from their youngest crown, the green eye within looking at her without emotion.

Their youngest looked at her with contempt radiating out of him but eventually it turned to a look that screamed indigence, as if she had taken his new favorite toy away from him.

After few more moments of silence Shamura cleared their throat ‘’I see, we have reached a verdict’’ Looking between the tension between her and their youngest they continued ‘’As the newborn is a part of Heket’s cult, I declare she holds the most claim over her’’ Looking once more over the their whole family ‘’Any objections?’’

None answered their eldest until their youngest just shrugged and with almost a pout ‘’I think that's fine’’ Looking back at her with a smirk ‘’If it is fine with Heket that is’’

He only got a nod as she decided that any word she could add here would just end up fueling his amusement.

Shamura ignoring the two of them ‘’Let it be so then. Heket, second amidst the grand bishops of The Old Faith, shall be the caretaker of Julyaryn.’’ They took in their quill before writing the documents and signing the papers.

She didn’t stay long after signing her papers, only caring to send one more glare down Leshy’s way.

Without even giving proper farewells to her siblings, she teleported them away to her temple. Ignoring all the followers who tried to speak to her she quickly made her way to her chambers before locking the door.

Finally letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding she collapsed against the door.

Running her free hand through her face she desperately wished she was just dreaming or more likely going through a nightmare. Just what happened back there? Was she even thinking? She lamented her decision as she let out a frustrated groan.

She had just adopted this little mortal, without having a single clue about how to take care of a mortal let alone a newborn. What did she even want with this little mewling creature that… was crying at the moment…

Looking down on her arm she saw the little rabbit who seemed to have gone back to crying for some unknown reason. trying to think of a reason that could warrant this she ran what she knew about babies in her mind, which was not much. It should not be hungry yet she thought, she had fed the little thing back at the counsel.

 Looking at the brown furred rabbit she could tell that she didn’t intend to stop anytime soon.

Unable to take the shrill noise further she awkwardly cupped the basket with both her arms as she quietly spoke ‘’There, there?’’ She was not exactly sure what she was doing but It seemed like it was working, perhaps a little too slow for her liking still it was progress.

Cuddling her closer to her chest she tried to rock her from side to side, in a way she saw from her followers which seemed like it was doing a slightly better job.

It took the little thing a while but eventually, slowly wailing led to soft coos. With its two black eyes she looked at her, almost with awe and maybe even wonder. At the small one’s little display she felt a smile grace her lips, one that didn’t feel heavy against her wounds.

It was a small display, one that she saw many times from countless followers that came and went through her life. But it felt like this one was… special in way.

As the coos turned to giggles she thought, perhaps she didn’t know why this was happening but maybe it was good that it was happening.

After few more moments of uncertainty, almost a whisper ‘’I am with you’’

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43839834/chapters/115822702

Saw this on my Sketch book when I was going through it. I had made this years ago when things were a bit better, when he was still here with us. Anyway I decided to post this here finally.

I know I should probably try to make this digital and all that, but I am not sure how. So I guess for the time being it shall stay as this until I get around to it.

The closest I have come to tearing up was in Valiant Hearts: The great war honestly. I swear the ending just broke my heart.

Take all the time you need, we all need some time to recharge once in a while. Also your story was heartwarming, it is good to hear you have found something that means so much to you as reading.

I along with many others shall all wait for your return in time.

These messages from discord chat with my dear friend tell everything you'll need to know for some time. Yeah, I'm taking a break from drawing (+ I'll have to prepare for my studies)

I guess I'm stuck with reading again, hehe. My love for books is returning little by little.

WARNING: If you don't want to read too much about me and my little story you can just skip it to the end. Have a nice day<3

It was a small story of a teenage girl who loved books. But not the classic ones of course: she was too young and naive to understand them (and honestly, that thing didn't change in me).

Once in a while I came to the small library of my town. This place was like a spark of light in the darkness. I could escape reality by reading books and imagining myself a character in these stories. On the summer of 2018 I decided to participate in the reading contest for young and adults. It was like a dream come true: I came to the library at sunrise and kept reading amazing stories till the sunset. But some days after that summer I started to feel sleepy every time I tried to read a book. Weeks later I couldn't see any of them. I found them too boring, too difficult to understand.

Almost four years later, today exactly, I found one book that caught my eye. It has anime illustrations in it and, well... It's covers looked too bright for a fantasy drama book. I took it home to read in comfort and silence. To be honest, I was pretty skeptical about this book at first. I never liked dramas too much (I just don't like to cry and dramas always makes me cry like a little baby) and I've never heard of this author before. But after reading few chapters it was hard to stop. It was like a breath of new fresh air.

I guess I really ran out of inspiration in these four years. I need a little break from creating and thinking before I would be able to create something new (and won't feel disappointed because of it) so... I'm on a break for some weeks. I need time to re-read something that I loved and read something new. Love y'all! Stay strong and creative<3

Guess who is back, with more fluffffffynesss!

I AM ALIVE

The job's taking too much of my energy, I was not able to even do my college homework

But Now I'm having a day off so I brought you a little sketch yaaay

It's not much but....Alhena is here once more hehe

Kalamari

Alright, Hello! Welcome you all to the third episode of The Five Traitors. This time as you might have been able to guess we will be taking a look at the ol Squid boy/God Kallamar.

This chapter has taken me a while to make and I hope you all enjoy it, it is a little long but I am sure it won’t be a problem for you all. (Also the Ao3 link is down there) (:

There was a storm outside. One with great thunder that soared through the skies with a boom that reverberated across the halls and rain that can only be called a cacophony as it assaulted the walls of his temple.

With such a storm came the ocean, so fierce even the most foolhardy captains would avoid testing their luck or mettle. Once blue skies now turned grey like the murky foam that claimed the sand.

Rising above high, almost touching the clouds started the wave far away, then a moment later too soon did it come crashing against the golden beach with a force strong enough to break apart rock and stone. Just like that after such a fierce blow did it slowly recede back, with it took the pieces it claimed, to take them back with it to the unknown so far away.

In such discord, there were few who could bear it let alone enjoy it and as the Lord of these lands and the waters so ferocious he was not one of those few. Far from it in fact as he was one of many that hid from the horrid noises such storms brought, trying to cower away inside to stop the monotonous yet terrifying screams of nature.

Hiding away would perhaps be too harsh as he was only choosing to stay in his chambers. One could even say that he wasn't even really a choice and he was just getting ready for… a visit

Indeed, if one were to come to his chambers uninvited they would see him with his collection. Taking stock of his tools of war, checking his blades and scepters alongside many assortment of holy weapons.

Of course, such a thing would never happen. No one would sneak into his chambers of course, to see him not assorting his weapons and instead curled against the wall shaking. On the verge of tears over such a small thing as a storm, covering his ears in an attempt to stop the cacophony…

No, no one would ever see him like this, a God in such a pathetic form. Indeed No one ever has… other than one but he would not really be with them after they were done with their little visit.

After the visit there would be no one who could claim to have seen him cower before such a benign thing as a storm. After the visit there would never be anymore ridicule, mocking or indifference. There would only be soothing ignorance to his real pitiful self, as he would be left as the third in the line up of bishops. Forgotten as he was always meant to be.

Always spoken with dismissal if spoken at all. Always swept under the dark where none could see him and cause harm. Always be seen as invalid and protected even though he was fully able to protect himself if need be, at least in theory.

Of course, it would always stay as a theory as he was currently stuck against the wall of his chamber. No, not stuck, just preoccupied with preparations.

After another particularly loud lighting which came too close to his temple for comfort he looked up at the sudden feeling of wetness against his tentacles. Has the storm outside that had laid claim to his realm, to have come to take the last of his respite away from him? How had it breached the sanctit-

Oh… It was not rain. Black as the skies above it was ichor. wiping at his eyes he changed the ‘verge of tears’ to ‘in tears’ as now he shed few more indignant tears at his own inadequacy.

Just how much of a coward was he? Just how much of a failure? How much of a mistake?

Eyes burning with ichor he buried his head against his tentacles, trying to stop them pouring out with limited success.

What if someone saw him like this? What if one of his followers saw him weeping away in his room where he was meant to lead them in just a few hours time? What Would they think of him?

He assumed they would mostly just be disappointed but then again perhaps empathy would have been possible not too long ago. After all his apothecaries were known for their sympathy as well as their healing as one bred the other and the other complimented the first. Surely though, they were not really  apothecaries anymore were they?  not after they showed up at least…

No, he would not get empathy if they saw him like this. Not that he could blame them really.

He was not really given that by his own family, why would he get any from the ones he was supposed to lead?  No, it was just wrong to expect them to march to their doom and also pity him like the rest of everyone he had ever known… barring him. Ignoring him he pondered to the rest of his family.

There was his sister, if were to be seen by Heket there would not even be pity much less empathy. She would take one good look at his form and the wretched bile within her would rise to squash him where he stood. She would strike out in full force and in but a few short words he would be begging for what counted as a lecture to end. She would ask if he was truly the Lord of Plague, truly one of the Bishops of the old faith, truly a brother she could accept. There he would stand, almost in trial as he would mutter excuse after excuse, trying to get her to stop for a moment so he could breathe, maybe to beg her enough so she would stop assaulting his ears with her often thunderous voice.

But it wouldn’t work, it never really did. In a few minutes he would go from feeling saddened to pathetic and to miserable shortly after. Of course, she never did any of these because she hated him. No, she never really truly looked down on him. She was just giving criticism. Indeed it was him who was just too thin-skinned, she was just offering suggestions if he had just looked beneath her wording and just read between the lines… really, he was just a snowflake wasn’t he?

Then there was Leshy, there would be pity there. Lots of it in fact… After all the mocking laughter there were loads of sympathy. Each time he would howl in delight at his expense, there was always understanding hidden deep within. Each time he would whisper behind him where he couldn’t perceive just to see his reaction. Each time he would stalk him through his lands to haunt him until he couldn’t take it.

Really, it was just that He couldn’t take a joke. So what if he would lay restless each night where his ears would be worn down due to his shrieks. Where he would spend days sleepless trying to soothe them with no success, just before passing out of exhaustion into a merciful slumber. So what if, he would be looking behind him even in the sanctity of his own temple, always expecting to be followed for each step he took. Where he would station apothecaries at each of the doors just to get a semblance of safety amidst the paranoia he found himself in. So what if the only times he got to sleep without exhausting himself he kept a dagger beneath his pillow just to be safe. Really, if he could just loosen up then maybe he too would be laughing with him.

Lastly there was indifference given readily by their eldest Shamura, sweet indifference and ignorance at his sheer existence. Someone to be swept under, to be forgotten so all could ignore his inadequacy. It was perhaps the most merciful response to his being, no ridicule nor barely hidden disgust hidden with criticism and lectures. Just looking the other way and acting as if he simply didn’t exist.

If he could just be more like his other better siblings, then perhaps he could be given attention to. Then again his siblings weren’t like him, they were not failures.

Leshy never feared a single thing amidst this earth, not mortal nor beast, even their eldest up to a certain point. He simply did as he pleased even when one begged him to stop, nothing short of death would stop him. Only if he was so cruel.

Shamura was perfect, they were perfection made reality. They stood as the eldest amidst them all, one that reigned above them all as was his rightful place in their A quinte- no, their quartet. There was no being like them, as one could never reach perfection. One could only hopelessly follow it, chase it around until maybe they could catch a glimpse of it on the horizon. There was no hope for him though, he was not fast in this race nor enduring enough. He was slow as a turtle and as energetic as a sloth.

As for Heket, well she never shed a tear in her life. Not once in their uncountable years had he seen her shed a single drop of a tear. Not when she lost her first witness when she sacrificed herself for her, not when she lost villages full of her followers to starvation, not when their sibling left them…

In contrast he wept the first time he had to sacrifice one of his followers. They wanted him to do it, they practically begged him to take their life so he could be one with him. He could still remember the cold stone of his temple as he stood in front of all his siblings, all looking, judging.

He wept as expected, as soon as he felt his heart stop. In front of all his followers and siblings he wept over a simple mortal. He could still feel the disappointment from all their eyes, baring one. Heket shaking her head as Leshy snickered behind her, even Shamura paid enough attention to look away from him. All deep within carried pity for him that day, baring one. The cruelest of their siblings carried not pity, nor disgust. He carried sympathy so unwanted.

He carried that wretched feeling within himself as he walked up to him after the debacle. He walked up to him so callously and took him by the hands to guide him to his realm where he got to see his beloved follower yet again. He wept once more there, but this time it didn’t stung as bad as he told his final goodbyes to his most faithful, without the gaze of the rest of his siblings, baring him.

That misbegotten brother of his, he carried the belief of him being capable within himself. He never saw him for what he truly was, he always looked at him as if he had potential deep within instead of failure. A fool and a cruel man he was.

The same cursed brother who would have taken his hands even now, to ask him what was wrong as he did in days like this so long past. Today he wouldn’t know what to tell him but back then he told him it was the thunder and the rain that made him weep and nothing more.

He should have mocked him for standing as a god and yet being afraid of something so laughable, something that had no way of actually hurting him even back when he was much younger. He should have lectured him, told him his cowardice was a shame he brought to The Old Faith, he should have laughed at him for his weakness, he shouldn’t have even asked him what was wrong, he should have just left him to his devices and attend their court instead.

No, he just had to embrace him. He just had to look him in the eyes and tell him that no rain nor thunder could haunt him when he was with him. He had to give him the only thing he was good with, his first blade. Tell him that he didn’t need to ever be afraid as long as he was willing to fight.

He cursed him the day they sparred against one another in those halls, the day where he found something he was not a failure at. The day where he learned he hadn’t needed to be taken care of as an invalid and that he could be strong.

How he hated his brother for he took him out of his quiet dark corner and showed him the stars he came from. Promising him all that was under their grand light if he just fought for it, not realizing he was wasting his time.

Sudden anger now coursing through his veins he suddenly looked up from his corner, still on the ground with his tentacles up to his chest. Wiping at his eyes yet again, he got up slowly. He couldn’t just stay here to mop, even if it was the only other thing he was good for.

When the last of his tears dried, he looked around to take stock of his options. In his weapon rack he saw many weapons he had used in the times when even he was needed.

Scepters made for war, their gold glinting against the jewels adorning them. His hand momentarily went across one of their handles before receding. No, he needed something closer.

As his hand moved back he spotted his smaller collection. Daggers of all kinds, all lining the walls with each promising him safety allowed from such a hidden weapon. He had to admit, it was a good idea to carry one be they under a pillow or in battle. Still, he also needed some distance between him and his brother if he ever even got to fight him before he would be sidelined by his more capable siblings.

Not even looking at the holy hand grenades he moved to his most favorite part of his collection, swords of all sides in their individual cases. There were many to choose from, some straight and narrow, some curved and graceful. In the end however he chose the saber, standing taller than any mortal, Forged by blacksmiths from so far away. It would be useful.

Before he could leave his chambers to wash away the ichor, before anyone could spot him. His gaze fell on a forgotten part of his collection. In the far corner, he saw it. It was a small blade, one standing just about a mortal's height. Forged before he came to this earth from the holy lights high above, it was his first blade.

He didn’t know what possessed him to move closer to the rightfully forgotten relic, if it could even be called as such. Gingerly opening the small case, he took the weapon by the handle. It was far from easy to wield with his new size, but somehow it still felt natural within his grasp.

A high swing and a low strike, it was… unneeded. It was far too small to be used as a sword and far too big to be a dagger, it was just awkward to handle on top of that. Bringing this piece of loathed history was just a mistake…

Then again, he too was a mistake so it was only right that he would bring it to possibly his doom.

The track to the temple was unpleasant, that much was to be expected really. Between the still ongoing storm and the mountainous path, it had made everything more miserable than it had to be. Then again, maybe it had to be miserable. After all, they did come uninvited, didn't they.

Just another one of his brother’s cruelties he thought as his tentacles moved up the path. Why had he found his temple here of all places? Did he assume they would come for him one day and wanted to make it as hard as possible? or Perhaps he wanted to make it impossible for any of them to visit him, then again why would he visit his brother?

Perhaps he did it because he could. It was possible that he made his temple up on these mountains because he could do so unlike him. He was strong and independent enough to climb such high with his followers and establish such a bastion in a place so uninhabitable.

Perhaps, he just wanted to look down upon them from his castle so far high up.

Lost in thought he didn’t hear from the cacophony when one of his aphoteceri- warriors fell to her death, or at least he acted like he hadn’t heard her cries. She was no one of importance, just a mother of three with a husband lost when a prank of his brother got out of hand. Someone who worked at the cult's bakery when not in the sick bay as a nurse.

Someone who hadn’t cried for him when they fell to the stone jutting out of the side of the cliff, who didn’t ask for his mercy, who he couldn’t help because it would show him as a weakling yet again.

Forward he walked, not confident nor willing but he moved forward nonetheless.

The initial breach was bloody, as expected. His brother had raised good warriors, all who carried his name in their lips as they dove into the battle they had no chance of winning. While his soldiers fell with faces full of sorrow and anguish. Only if he was good enough to raise them as well as he.

Eventually however, even their zeal gave out. All coming back to the realm of the living from their deserved slumber to protect their master even as their bodies broke below them it wasn’t enough. In the end, they all broke away to torn limbs and broken bodies.

So they reached the gate to his throne room. Wide open with him still sitting on his throne looking at them with eyes that spoke nothing but spite.

How cruel he was, as they walked past the broken bodies of his protectors torn asunder. How his eyes didn’t twitch with indignation, as their sister stepped over a small mound made of bodies as she didn’t even bother to look down, or when his brother Leshy held a wolf within his grasp squeezing at his ribcage like a toy as he looked around bored like this was all some sightseeing.

How he hadn’t looked away as the wolf’s last words fell on the deaf ears of his master. He cried ‘F-forgive m… me-e lord for I- I… have failed-d’ as his Lord's breath hadn’t hitched for but a moment.

Now they stood, four looking at the Lord of Death as he sat still.

Then after a moment that stretched over a millenia Shamura spoke, the one that seemed least interested in this affair. ‘’Brother, Narinder. We have come to take you back’’ He looked at the Master of War at their words for a moment, surely they didn’t mean that had they? Their brother should not be allowed back, he couldn’t be allowed back… should he?

A voice rang out from the throne, one of laughter that lacked mirth that quickly fell to melancholy. ‘’His name was Melvin you know, my Witness’’ He got up from his chair slowly as he walked closer to them. He felt his grip on his sabre harden as he felt each step reverberate against the ground.

He pointed at the small mound as his voice grew colder ‘’They were the ones whom I called my priests. Lancelot the deafened’’ After a moment he added ‘’He was a grand writer. The one closer to me was Deniz, they held no title but were grand nonetheless.’’ He sighed as he gazed at the last of the ones who still could be distinguished amidst the pile ‘’Joan, youngest of them all. She was a poet an-’’

He was cut out by their sister as she spoke ‘’Quit the nonsense Narinder’’ She turned to Leshy as she held her axe closer ‘’Leshy, with me’’ Before she could take her place against him however their siblings hand stopped her.

Shamura eyed her wearily, as they sighed ‘’There is no need for such action sister, Narinder will come with us to his rightful place’’ they looked back at Narinder ‘’Won’t you brother?’’ There was almost a tinge of hope behind their seemingly uninterested voice.

He for his part looked upon his sibling for a moment, so many untold thoughts coming through his mind surely. For a moment as he looked deep into his unsure eyes, he thought that their brother would show one kindness to him and show him that he did not stand to go against their sibling’s word. Show him that all had to follow his word no matter how nonsensical and humiliating it felt, and that it was not something one could fight against. Yet again his hope was dashed across the halls broken as his eyes met the still bloodied hand of Leshy still clutching the corpse of his follower.

He shook his head before a gentle smile bloomed slowly over him, he spoke ‘’No, I don’t think I will sibling’’

At his words came a warcry from Heket, striding at their brother with full force. Swinging his warhammer Leshy joined her, barreling at him in force. He was as he looked over the battle commencing in front of him. Looking over to their eldest he looked much like a statue as they gazed at nowhere in particular.

Just then a voice rang out, coming from Heket who was deflecting a blow from their brother ‘’Come on you damn squid, be useful for once and join us!’’

Before he could apologize to her for his failure, Leshy spoke while swinging his warhammer over his head ‘’Leave the crybaby be, we don’t need that coward’’

He didn’t let their words sink deep before entering the fray, his three hearts beating down in his chest as he tried to match their brother’s style. It was easier said than done however as they were not in those halls like back in the days, his brother was not holding back.

Each strike was perfect, his ripostes were blinding as were his dodges. Each strike felt like fighting against the thunder outside as they all got reflected or turned against him with a counter. His ears rang out almost deafened by the noise of steel against steel.

What was not helping their fight was the fact that there was no cohesion between them all. Heket acted like he nor Leshy existed as she pushed further and further against their brother who brushed each of her advances. As for Leshy, he acted like it was all a free for all as he swung wildly at them all with almost a giggle emanating from him.

It all went so fast, one moment they were fighting and the next he met the stone under them, his sabre falling behind him as he heard the metal hitting the floor. Momentarily stunned it took him a while to look over to his siblings, but as soon as his eyes met them he wished he hadn’t.

Leshy was on the ground clutching his face as he shook violently, Heket on the other hand was against a pillar as she held her throat, oozing ichor slowly as she no doubt tried to curse the one that caused the injury.

Their brother paid neither any mind as he slowly made his way to him, walking slowly as he looked down on him with pity. So now he was finally kind to him, looking at him the way all should have.

Breathing deep he tried to calm down, his three hearts now feeling like they were about to tear their way out of him as he slowly realized what was to happen. He was going to die.

The primal urge to fight back was overtaken by sheer terror as he was frozen to his spot, unable to even look at his brother he instead closed his eyes. His hands to his eyes, he tried to calm himself down.

No matter what he did however, it didn’t help. Each step he took closer to him drew him closer to the inevitability. This is what he was always afraid of wasn’t it? The unstoppable constant that is death, his brother.

The thing that pushed them so far from those lackadaisical days at his temple, to now here. It was almost poetic if it wasn’t so scary.

Steps stopped close to him. A second then a minute, nothing happened. Too afraid to open his eyes he waited for his assured doom, why couldn’t his brother just finish him already? Had he have to torture him like this?

But instead of a blade striking down he heard his brother’s voice. This time it felt… odd. ‘’Why are you afraid brother?’’ He stopped shaking ever so slightly as he moved his fingers just enough to look upon his executioner. ‘’Haven’t I told you, you have nothing to fear as long as you are willing to fight?’’

He was stunned for a moment, his surprise caused by his voice just as much as his unwillingness to finish him off. ‘’I-I c-cant… I can’t fight-t I.. I’’ He tried to form words but his throat squeezed harder and harder at his attempt.

Seemingly not seeing his struggle, or perhaps because of that struggle ‘’Why so?’’

Gathering what courage he had within him he looked up, his fingers fully parted he gazed upon his brother. Now on his knee with his weapon to his side, he gave him a curious look. Breathing in deep, he let it out with a sigh ‘’I… I have no blade’’ His throat constricting further at his attempt he felt the tears finally breach as he wailed ‘’J-just end it already!’’

Just why was he still playing with him?! What was his damn game? Had he just wanted to see him in tears, did he just want to humiliate him one more time as if he wasn’t already?

Lost in thought he didn’t see his hand move to his face, gasping for a moment as he felt his paw wiping at one of the tears running down his eyes. In a voice so soft ‘’You have a blade, one so dear to me as you are’’

What blade? He thought before he remembered. His hands went to his cloak to seek his old blade to feel nothing, he felt a terrifying chill run down his body before suddenly he saw it within Narinder’s paw, offering it to him just like once before.

Hesitantly he reached out, grasping the weapon by the small hilt. His brother gave him a smile before he grabbed him by the shoulder. Slowly they got up, both upright as Narinder moved a step away from him.

He small smile crept to his lips before in a playful tone ‘’Come on Kalamari, show me what you got’’

He oddly enough returned his smile, maybe out of confusion or perhaps fear. It began, slow at first as his brother countered his attacks. His strikes were not like the ones a moment past, they weren’t softer perhaps but they didn’t carry the same intent from before.

But eventually the warm up ended as the spar or fight or really whatever this was supposed to be really started. Almost like a dance his brother struck from one side to the next, spinning a moment before jumping high. It was not really a sound idea in battle to do either but it was… Fun.

Taking his clue he started his own ‘dance’, crouching low before raising his blade high to meet his on air. Spinning on his tentacles to match his turns and weaves, to add to their play.

In the end, he couldn’t call this much of a spar, but it was something more perhaps. Something that made him forget all those years spent fearing him, something that quickly ended with the addition of another dancer who didn’t seem to care much about softening their blows.

This new dancer was not really in favor of their dance going on longer either as they struck true and quick. In a few short moments he found himself going against the newcomer alongside his brother, this time neither struck soft as they battled them.

But by sheer chance or perhaps misfortune his brother fell to his knees, a moment so wrong and horrific. Not one moment sooner he found himself on the ground also with a strange ring in his ears as they felt… odd. Something ran through his head as he looked up to meet his sibling with their claws against his brother’s throat.

Realization hit him as he understood what he had just done, he fought against his eldest. The thought terrified him to his core as his mind ran with the possibility of what was to happen to him. Would he be cast out? Would he be run through with claws? Would he…

He was taken from these portents by the gasps of his brother who struggled in the grasp of their elder. In that moment he felt horror stronger than that of the fear he felt for his own life, one for his brother’s.

So their dance ended for real this time, as his blade pierced the heart of their eldest when they seemed so intent on taking the life of his brother, overlooking his sheer existence for the last time. One moment they looked within their brother’s dimming eyes with nothing but pain and in the next they found themselves in his realm as they collapsed upon the stone.

His brother breathed hard as he looked up to him from the ground, his eyes regaining their shine as he gazed upon his blade which ran with ichor.

Offering his hand he took it in his a moment later, and they rose up from the ground just like a moment before their dance.

He felt an awkward silence settle between the two of them before the soft voice from before cut through ‘’You did good Kalamari’’ He chuckled softly ‘’Real good’’

As he felt a small chuckle rise out of him, he found himself in his embrace, He did good didn’t he?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44580424/chapters/114866662

Heyyyyyy, hello! So another chapter, one that is around 4600ish words because I couldn’t bring myself to cut it into pieces... again. I swear one day I will learn how to cut these into reasonable chunks for the sake of all of us.  Anyway I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it is full of angst and some actual honest to hell comfort, HURRAY we are finally at the comfort!