Chapter Text
I was born in the dark of the woods. Our life was simple, and hard, but it was good. We had each other.
Until the worm’s disciples came. They wear dark cloaks so tight that all their features are in shadow—we know not whether our attackers are fellow cats, bitter dogs, clever swine, or some other form of creature.
My little brother and I flee from our village, together moving from shadow to shadow—until they finally find us.
I run out, flash my pink fur against the dark green of the woods, goad them into following me. I hope it buys my brother enough time to find the next shadow.
The disciples finally catch up to me, catching me roughly and tying me to a stake. They surround me with their dark cloaks and knives, and no matter how hard I struggle, I can’t get my claws into the rope.
I accept the inevitable truth.
I am going to die.
And then she appears. Wool as white and soft as the clouds that I rarely glimpse between the dense trees of the wood.
She carries an axe in her hands, and there’s death in her eyes. A death faster and more merciful than what the disciples had planned.
I close my eyes and twist my ears away from the screaming and the crunching, and I wait for the blade to set me free from my misery—
And it does.
But it doesn’t sink into my throat—it slices through the ropes around my shoulders.
I dare open my eyes—and there she is, a rare beam of sunlight falling on her blood-spattered wool, a glowing angel of death—and she holds out her hand to me.
Around her, the disciples of the worm have been reduced to nothing more than tatters and bones.
The death is gone from her eyes, and there is only kindness.
I take her hand—
Then a starry red portal opens beneath me, and I tumble down into it.
***
Distant screams and howls swirl in the void, along with glimmering stars and nebulas of blood. I float there, sure that I have died after all, and the lamb has been my beautiful reaper.
A shining circle of light opens above me, a strange force drawing my body up, and I close my eyes to accept my final end.
The ground steadies beneath my feet. Warm sunlight falls across my face, and the smell of cooked fish pulls at my nose, over the scent of fresh cut grass.
Is this heaven?
I open my eyes—and the lamb is there again. The blood is gone from her wool, and behind her is a stone statue bearing her likeness, dripping blackness from its eyes.
For the first time, I notice the black crown hovering just above her head, and the red eye within it blinks at me.
Beyond the lamb and her effigy, green fields roll out. I look around in bewilderment at the sun-soaked land—there are rows of little tents, a small farm, bursts of wildflowers, and all throughout, happy creatures of every kind. A bull, a frog, and a porcupine are closest. But there is only one lamb.
Am I in heaven? I want to ask, but then my eyes fall on a small cluster of well-honored gravestones on the far side of the camp. There are no gravestones in heaven, I’m sure, but this must be the next best thing.
“What is this place?” I murmur, as my sun-sore eyes find the lamb’s face again. She banishes every fear from my heart.
“This is your new home. You’ll start by working on the farm. The others will show you the way.”
She hands me a red smock, the same rich shade as her cloak. It’s well-worn, the edge slightly tattered, but so much softer than the blood and mud soaked rags that cling to my frame. The other creatures here wear the same cloak.
“Thank you,” I murmur, and then she steps away, leaving me on the stone circle ringed with arcane markings that brought me from the void.
I take a moment to clean myself, changing into my new robes, as I acclimate to my surroundings. A breeze rustles over the dense trees that ring the camp, and I can just smell the old pines of the dark woods. So I am not far from my childhood home, and yet a world away. Many other strange smells hang in the air, but the one that cannot be ignored is the succulent aroma of cooking fish.
I follow my growling stomach over to a grill, and the cheerful bull working there. He has dense brown fur and gently curved ivory horns. He doesn’t seem much older than I am—a fresh adult—but he’s clearly already adjusted to life here, humming cheerily as he slides a fish across a pan.
I’m drooling by the time I reach the kitchen—not the most dignified introduction to such a handsome bull.
“You must be the new recruit,” he says, holding the pan towards my wide, starving eyes. “You seem hungry. Eat up.”
I can’t suppress the instinct to snatch the hot fish out of the pan, tossing the burning heat between my paws a few times before I can finally swallow it whole.
“I’m Jaliar,” the bull says, with a smile that makes his eyes twinkle. “What’s your name?”
I lick the rest of the fish taste from my lips, then rub my mouth off on the back of my paw. “Thetyna.”
“Well, Thetyna. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I say, and I’m blushing, though I’m not sure why. I hope my pink fur doesn’t show it.
“What’s your assignment?”
“What?”
“Did the lamb tell you what you’d be working on?”
“Oh! Yes. She said I’d start working on the farm? That the others would show me how?”
“You’ll want to talk to Berjre, then. He’s the green hawk. He can be a bit standoffish at first, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a sweetheart.”
“O-okay.” For some reason, I want to ask Jaliar if he ever works on the farm—I think I’d rather him teach me than Berjre. Maybe it’s because Jaliar is my age, and he’s been kind to me. Maybe it’s just because the fish was the best I’ve ever tasted in my life.
But I’m too new to rock the boat, so I head on over to find Berjre.