Kallamar sat in the shelter he and the lamb shared. He still had no idea how the lamb had talked his brother into letting him remain. Probably promised to hand him over, let Narinder have the kill themselves. That would be enough to stay his hand.
He sighed. Narinder would never get the chance. He had quietly worked with the lamb, explaining the details of usurping the crown and the consequences of ascension. They had made up their mind. They would take the crown for themselves. They would “end the Old Faith. All of it”.
Kallamar looked around the room. It was adequate. Soft bedding, elaborate drapes around the frame, crystal windowing, a nice rug on the floor…even a collection of his old tomes pilfered from his realm before any heretics could defile them. Any mortal would consider it high class…any mortal. He just wishes everything wasn’t red and themed around the lamb and it’s crown. would it kill them to allow him a rich sea blue?
Kallamar jumped as the lamb entered. “…Shamura is dead.” They said plainly, as if noting something mundane. Kallamar nodded solemnly. It was inevitable. To break the seal meant breaking the crowns. Kallamar had shattered his own willingly, but the others would not. Kallamar touched the tattered remnants of his left ear. Torn asunder, along with the right one, when they sealed Narinder away. Eternally bleeding ichor…till he, with the help of the lamb, severed his last connection to that blasted ritual. Not simply breaking the chain but unraveling it. Old wounds finally healed…through one last betrayal…
Kallamar felt the bedding shift and looked over to see the lamb face first in the sheets. “Was my sibling really that difficult? Even with their shattered mind?” the lamb groaned.
“First of all,” their words muffled through the sheets, “lucid or not, their domain was war. Of course they are going to put up a decent fight.” They lifted themself up to look at their consort. “And secondly, I had to deal with a hungry cult and a dissenter when I arrived. What has my loyal consort been doing all day?” they glared judgingly. Kallamar hated their glare. The lamb only fully dropped the mask around him…and it was often terrifying.
“I-I can’t help it if kitchen duties are beneath me!” He looked away as he made excuses, “And besides, you are the leader. Deciding out meals is your responsibility.” He dared to look back at the lamb. They were once again face down in the bed. Kallamar sighed. If they considered this tiring, perhaps they were not ready for ascension.
Kallamar pulled the lamb into his lap, holding them close. “wha- Kallamar-?”
“sshhhhh…relax. You’re stressed.” Kallamar cooed. “Let yourself relax. The Disciples will keep order for now. Hard to keep a happy face with pent up rage, after all~” The lamb groaned before letting themselves relax. “Since when did you become such an expert is godsitting?” Lamb teased.
Kallamar laughed at their weak jab. “My lamb~ did you forget I had the most consorts out of my family? I mean, the three you had to kill to get to me were just the latest three in a long line to hold the position. I learned a lot over the centuries on how to keep a god calm. When to respect their authority and when to “godsit” them.” Kallamar nuzzled the lamb’s head. Their wool was always so soft. They took excellent care of it.
“Hey,” Lamb spoke, “I never asked…why did you do it?”
“Pardon?” Kallamar began to sweat. They knew exactly what they were referring to. Lamb persisted. “The slaughter of my people…why did you do it? What was your excuse?”
Kallamar took a deep breath. This was always going to happen. He should speak plainly. “Fear. It was an almost mortal response.” Kallamar almost chuckled at the absurdity of his own actions in hindsight. “I, more than the rest, was acutely aware that our reign would not be eternal. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the gods. We proved that when we killed the others. Our time would come…but I was still scared. Scared of death…scared of him. Of what my brother would do to me if I was at his mercy…mercy. Something he didn’t have.”
Kallamar began to shake in fear. The thoughts of what his family were going through racing through his mind. his family. His brother, sister, and now sibling all suffering the wrath of someone sealed for a thousand years with nothing to do but imagine new tortures.
Kallamar’s thoughts were interrupted as his face was enveloped by wool. He hadn’t noticed lamb sit up and turn to face him. “Now, now, my dear consort. No more of that. That cruel kitty can’t hurt you while I’m still here.” It was Kallamar’s turn to relax, sinking into their lord’s chest wool. The two sat together, enjoying the quiet of each other’s embrace.
Lamb spoke first, “Alright. We need to get up.” Lamb tried to get up, only to be pulled back in by Kallamar. “five more minutes, dear?” He pleaded with begging eyes. They didn’t work on Lamb. “No, no. You have to get up too.” Lamb grabbed Kallamar as they hopped off the bed, forcing the squid to either stand or fall. “The cauliflower bowls I was forced to quickly make have made some followers sick. And YOU oversee the sick bay, remember?” Kallamar grumbled. Stupid followers and their sensitive stomachs. “Fine,” he lamented, “but before you leave me to languish for your flock…there is something I need.” The lamb turned quizzically and was greeted by Kallamar’s lips on theirs. It lasted less than a second before the squid quickly tried, and failed, to make a hasty exit. But the Lamb had managed to snag his robes.
“Oh no you don’t~. get back here and do it properly!” Lamb demanded, pulling him back to them for a second, proper kiss. Kallamar felt himself melt into the Lamb’s embrace. He could not remember the last time he shared such a genuine kiss. When he finally stepped back, he saw the most genuine smile on the lamb’s face. Where he had only ever seen a devil, Kallamar beheld an angel in white.
“To think, I would fall for the most pathetic of my murderers~” Lamb jested in an almost singsong tone. As they tried to leave, Kallamar stopped them in turn. They were side by side, neither seeing the others’ face as he held their arm. “…so…I am consort in more than name?” he asked, fearing a no but praying for a yes.
“Yes,” Lamb replied. “I suppose you are…now, enough chitchat.” The lamb pulled themselves free and adjusted their fleece. “We have work to do, Kallamar. We can save the intimacy for later, when the cult sleeps.” With that, the Lamb exited to face the flock once more.
Kallamar stood alone for a moment in their tent. “…promise?” He chuckled to himself before leaving. For the first time in ages, he was looking forward to something.
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