Wrath, you had your five minutes on day one! Let Narinder has some fun!
I couldn't imagine anyone else representing Pride. My husband thought Kallamar would be a good fit too - but yet my Kallamar, while he was indeed very self-righteous and confident in his intelligence, also knew that Narinder was Shamura's favourite - and that made him always feel "worse brother".
I chose white as my pride colour - for many reasons… First, self-imposed: 'cause it is the colour of The One Who Waits' robes. Second - 'cause the white colour is a combination of all other colours. The white light contains the entire rainbow. Ha! The double meaning of the word Pride!
And also 'cause white has always been associated with pride. The white colour at the wedding shows the purity of the bride - when everyone knows that she has already slept her soon-to-be husband. White colour as the colour of the afterworld, Heaven, where most people are convinced that they will go, although they are not saints… White colour is associated with the absence of sin, purity, modesty - that's why it is so… perverse as Pride, right? :3
By the way, have you noticed that of all the deadly sins, only Pride has both positive and negative meanings? I mean in English… In Polish we have two words: "duma" (e.g. pride in being oneself, pride in a child, etc.) and "pycha" (as conceit, arrogance, one of the deadly sins). "Pycha" also means that something is tasty, delicious (pyszne), just "yummy" - but that's a completely different thing X"D
Fun fact from my AU (couldn't miss it ;D): although Narinder's identity is kept secret in the village at first, he grows bolder over time, and finally ordering himself a robe like the one he wore in Limbo - and parading around in it whenever possible (usually then when he is not rushing with a broom, cleaning up poop after the followers).
POV: Narinder would sneak out of the village as the Lamb left it. Lamb find out about that and demanded an explanation, so Narinder showed them where he's going. It turned out that he was visiting family: a squirrel who is raising her two cat-sons alone.
This here is the conversation that resulted from that.
Yes, my Lamb can't bleat. They doesn't know many things that sheep can do, and this is the first time they is experiencing this lack.
(I also try something new in english translation, I wonder if you notice.)
By the way, it's going to be an interesting tenth volume, isn't it? :]
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Chapter 11 - Roots and shoots
Lamb looked around. They noticed that Narinder was already moving away. They moved after him. He, breathing with difficulty, left the clearing where the house stood and plunged into the forest. He trembled slightly. Lamb became visible a few meters away. They was silent. He waited. They sensed that it was up to them to break the silence.
"So... You found yourself something like a family?"
"No," he snorted. "I don't feel a bond with them."
"I saw something else..."
Narinder sighed. He stopped. He looked at them. "These are cats," he announced and waited a moment. Lamb didn't understand. "The only cats in this village. Their father was a cat, but he died a long two years ago, when the younger one was still a kit drinking his mother's milk."
"Okay. Why is it a problem that there are no other cats?"
Narinder looked annoyed. But then he looked at Lamb and realized... for the first time so strongly and clearly... that they is one of a kind. There are no other sheep. They is the last one. In addition, raised by all sorts of creatures - but not other sheep. They didn't have... had no cultural identity. They had no legacy. They had nothing. Suddenly, he began to feel sorrow and sadness about this, and sympathy for Lamb....
"Well, yes, you don't understand that..." he whispered. "You don't understand... Wrath, animal species is not just diversity, it's more than that... it is... a set of traits, habits, ways of functioning... Which are passed on in families. When... when we have mixed families, still the children of a particular species are handled by the appropriate parent to pass on the important things about their common species..."
Lamb was listening.
"These toddlers... were deprived of guidance, and there are no other cats in their village. When I discovered this... I decided to teach them how to be cats, so they wouldn't lose it... Did you know that the younger one couldn't even purr?"
Lamb was silent. A flurry of thoughts slowly began in his head. Narinder sighed.
"Cultural identity is important, as is the survival of the species itself... But I understand why you don't get it... I have no special emotional bond with these cats - I help them because I don't want them to be handicapped as cats... their mother is not able to teach them that. This is my secret. I've been sneaking out because I just didn't want you to think that these are important people to me, that they are my family... they are not. With Miranda we have a clear case - we both know it very well. I help her raise her sons as cats, but between us there is only polite camaraderie."
They was still silent.
"Once I've taught them everything they need to know about their own species, I'll remove myself completely and probably never meet them again. With luck, I'll also be able to teach them to fight a little, and maybe they won't die on the first crusade they go on..."
Lamb raised his gaze. There was a strange sadness in their gaze, a strange pain. Narinder sensed what he was about to hear. "And who should teach me how to be a sheep?" they bleated quietly. They seldom bleated. They rarely went into that peculiar sheepish tone, an accent that had atrophied in him due to the fact that he had virtually no contact with other sheep. Narinder bit his lip. The answer was... unpleasant. His leader would not like it.
"Wrath, I'm really sorry..." he whispered. "I didn't want your entire species to be exterminated, really. Shamura... neither. But the others... well, that's what happened... maybe it had to happen that way... or maybe not at all. We'll never know."
Lamb remained silent. And then they slowly raised their gaze. There were some dangerous flashes in it. "Can the dead teach?" they asked.
Narinder was amazed. He didn't think his Bishop would come up with this solution so quickly. Far too quickly, in fact.
"Well... technically... why not, but..."
"So I made a decision. I had quite a few reasons before: the desire to see how the followers were doing in the hell of redemption, to bring your siblings the gifts I had prepared for them... But now... now I have another reason. I have to find out. To find out what it's like to be a sheep. How I should be a sheep."
Narinder sighed. "It will be necessary to prepare a lot of candles, a pentagram and a really decent anchor..." he sighed. If you don't destroy at least a few hell spheres along the way, it will really be a miracle..."
"Why should I destroy anything?"
"Because you'll get pissed off. You'll get pissed off as soon as you talk to any of the dead during that slaughter of the sheep. I got pissed when their tormented souls flowed past me, and as you might have noticed, I'm not one of the strongly empathetic or compassionate beings."
Lamb remained silent. After a while they sighed. "Another plan... Into the Land of the Dead I must enter anyway... But... Instead of learning there how to be a sheep... can I pull any soul back to the world of the living? But not a spirit, not a memory... Just a real soul?"
"You can't resurrect someone who died before you established the Crown and, in addition, outside your area of operations..."
"But can I summon and keep a soul?"
Narinder looked at them. There was something strange in his gaze, as if calm, a bit of derision, but mostly a taxing appraisal. Lamb endured this gaze. "Yes," announced Narinder. "I think you can do it."
"Excellent. So, when I go to the Land of the Dead, you will make all the preparations, my future high priest..."
"Aren't you already angry with me for sneaking out?"
"No. If you sneak out for the sake of your species, I understand and respect that. You don't have to sneak out, you can just go there... once a week or even twice, as you prefer."
"Once is enough."
"Just... don't forget your duties to me. That's all."
The cat bowed with gratitude. He thought: Lamb was similar to him at times, yes, but overall... quite different from him. And he think he even liked that about them.
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Rozdział 11 - Korzenie i pędy
Jagnię obejrzało się. Dostrzegło, że Narinder się już oddala. Ruszyło za nim. On, oddychając z trudem, opuścił polanę, na której stał dom i zagłębił się w las. Lekko drżał. Jagnię stało się widzialne kilka metrów dalej. Milczało. On czekał. Przeczuło, że do niego należy przerwać milczenie.
- Więc... znalazłeś sobie, jakby rodzinę?
- Nie - prychnął. - Nie czuję z nimi więzi.
- Widziałom coś innego...
Narinder westchnął. Zatrzymał się. Spojrzał na nie.
- To są koty - oznajmił i chwilę czekał. Jagnię nie zrozumiało. - Jedyne koty w tej wiosce. Ich ojciec był kotem, ale zmarł dobre dwa lata temu, kiedy młodszy był jeszcze oseskiem pijącym mleko mamy.
- Okay. Dlaczego to problem, że nie ma innych kotów?
Narinder wyglądał na zirytowanego. Ale potem spojrzał na Jagnię i zdał sobie sprawę... po raz pierwszy tak mocno i wyraźnie... że ono jest jedyne w swoim rodzaju. Nie ma innych owiec. Jest ostatnie. W dodatku wychowywane przez najróżniejsze istoty - ale nie inne owce. Nie miało... nie miało tożsamości kulturowej. Nie miało dziedzictwa. Nie miało niczego. Nagle zaczął odczuwać z tego powodu żal i smutek, i współczucie dla Jagnięcia...
- No tak, ty tego nie rozumiesz... - szepnął. - Nie rozumiesz... Wrath, gatunki zwierząt to nie jedynie różnorodność, to coś więcej... to... zespół cech, zwyczajów, sposobu funkcjonowania... które przekazywane są w rodzinach. Gdy... gdy mamy rodziny mieszane, nadal dziećmi określonego gatunku zajmuje się odpowiedni rodzic, aby przekazać istotne rzeczy dotyczące ich wspólnego gatunku...
Jagnię słuchało.
- Ta maluchy... zostały pozbawione przewodnictwa, a w ich wiosce nie ma innych kotów. Gdy to odkryłem... postanowiłem nauczyć ich, jak być kotami, aby nie zatracili tego... Czy wiesz, że młodszy nie umiał nawet mruczeć?
Jagnię milczało. W jego głowie powoli zaczynała się gonitwa myśli. Narinder westchnął.
- Tożsamość kulturowa jest istotna, tak samo, jak przetrwanie samego gatunku... ale rozumiem, czemu tego nie rozumiesz... Nie łączy mnie żadna szczególna emocjonalna więź z tymi kotami - pomagam im, bo nie chcę, aby byli upośledzeni jako koty... ich matka nie jest w stanie ich tego nauczyć. To jest mój sekret. Wymykałem się, bo właśnie nie chciałem, abyś pomyślał, że to dla mnie ważne osoby, że są moją rodziną... nie są. Z Mirandą mamy sprawę jasną - oboje doskonale o tym wiemy. Pomagam jej wychować synów na kotów, ale między nami jest tylko uprzejme koleżeństwo.
Nadal milczało.
- Gdy nauczę ich wszystkiego, co powinni wiedzieć o swoim własnym gatunku, usunę się całkowicie i pewnie nigdy więcej ich nie spotkam. Przy odrobinie szczęścia zdołam też nauczyć ich nieco walczyć i może nie zginą podczas pierwszej krucjaty, na którą się wybiorą...
Jagnię podniosło wzrok. W jego spojrzeniu był dziwny smutek, dziwny ból. Narinder przeczuł, co zaraz usłyszy.
- A kto ma mnie nauczyć, jak być owcą? - zabeczał cicho.
Rzadko beczał. Rzadko wchodził w ten specyficzny, owczy ton, akcent, który zaniknął w nim przez to, że nie miał praktycznie doczynienia z innymi owcami. Narinder przygryzł usta. Odpowiedź była... przykra. Nie spodoba się jego liderowi.
- Wrath, naprawdę mi przykro... - szepnął. - Nie chciałem, żeby eksterminowano cały twój gatunek, naprawdę. Shamura... też nie. Ale inni... cóż, tak się stało... może tak się musiało stać... a może wcale nie. Nie dowiemy się.
Jagnię milczało. A potem powoli podniosło wzrok. Były w nim jakieś niebezpieczne błyski.
- Czy zmarli mogą nauczać? - zapytało.
Narinder zdumiał się. Nie sądził, że jego Biskup tak szybko wpadnie na to rozwiązanie. Zdecydowanie za szybko.
- Cóż... technicznie... czemu nie, ale...
- Podjęłom więc decyzję. Miałom już dosyć sporo powodów wcześniej: chęć sprawdzenia, jak sobie radzą wyznawcy w piekle odkipienia, zanieść twojemu rodzeństwu prezenty, które dla nich przygotowałom... lecz teraz... teraz mam jeszcze jeden powód. Ja muszę się dowiedzieć. Dowiedzieć, jak to jest być owcą. Jak powinnom być owcą.
Narinder westchnął.
- Będzie trzeba przygotować dużo świec, pentagram i naprawdę porządną kotwicę... - westchnął. - Jeśli nie rozwalisz co najmniej kilku sfer piekielnych po drodze, to naprawdę będzie cud...
- Czemu miałobym coś rozwalać?
- Bo się wkurzysz. Wkurzysz się, gdy tylko porozmawiasz z którąkolwiek ze zmarłych w czasie tamtej rzezi owiec. Ja się wkurzałem, gdy ich umęczone dusze przepływały obok mnie, a jak mogłeś zauważyć, nie należę do silnie empatycznych czy współczujących osób.
Jagnię milczało. Po chwili westchnęło.
- Inny plan... Do Krainy Zmarłych muszę wejść tak czy siak... Ale... zamiast uczyć się tam, jak być owcą... czy mogę ściągnąć duszę do świata żywych? Ale nie ducha, nie pamięć... Tylko prawdziwą duszę?
- Nie możesz wskrzesić kogoś, kto zmarł zanim założyłeś Koronę i w dodatku poza obszarem twoich działań...
- Ale czy mogę przywołać i utrzymać duszę?
Narinder patrzył na niego. Było w jego spojrzeniu coś dziwnego, jakby spokój, nieco drwiny, ale przede wszystkim taksująca ocena. Jagnię wytrzymało ten wzrok.
- Tak - oznajmił Narinder. - Sądzę, że dasz radę.
- Doskonale. Więc, kiedy udam się do Krainy Zmarłych, poczynisz wszelkie przygotowania, mój przyszły najwyższy kapłanie...
- Nie jesteś już na mnie zły, że się wymykam?
- Nie. Jeśli wymykasz się dla dobra swojego gatunku, rozumiem to i szanuję. Nie musisz się wymykać, możesz po prostu chodzić tam... raz w tygodniu czy nawet dwa razy, jak wolisz.
- Wystarczy raz.
- Tylko... nie zapominaj o swoich obowiązkach względem mnie. To wszystko.
Kot skłonił się z wdzięcznością. Pomyślał: Jagnię było niekiedy podobne do niego, owszem, ale ogólnie... całkiem od niego inne. I chyba to mu się nawet w nim podobało.
The second part and immediately the third - 'cause I decided to pair them. Of course, not as a couple, they're just more alike than they'd like.
While with Lamb I had no doubts for a moment, with Narinder I'm still not sure if he shouldn't also hold the flag of asexuality. The biggest problem with him is that he's a born fraudster - so much so that he fools everyone, even himself - and even me, the author who writes about him. So I don't know anything about him for sure.
For almost sure, however, they are both aromantic - plus Lamb's gender is debatable. I won't reveal what biological gender they have, but they describes themself as (I don't have a term in English here, in Polish we have "ono", neuter gender - theoretically equivalent to "it", but not exactly). Can anyone help: is there an English equivalent? I'm not sure if "they/them" which I use is proper form :/ I use "they/them" on Shamura who is "multi-person" (they are literally more than one person). Please, help with Lamb's pronouns.
Why are we locked up? WHY ARE WE LOCKED UP?! You should ask that damned demon I used to call brother once. We are dead! It's already awful enough, right? But nooo...
The prison in the Hell of Gods? Yes, it was undoubtedly one of my better ideas. I designed it with my beloved traitor siblings in mind when I was imprisoned in Limbo myself, and I must say I'm proud of it, he, he... I made sure there was all possible inconvenience.
Hey, there! I'm back.
There's nothing like being sick during a long weekend when we have holidays off work… But I feel better now and I'm slowly returning to drawing. The SATIM strip should be coming soon too. And a few other backlogs.
I don't know why I coloured Kallamar's eyes that way, but I like the effect. Maybe I'll accept it as my headcanon?… (according to my fanfic, he has black pupils, not red).
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+ BONUS
Hey, Nari! Are you back to answering asks? There is the person who will enjoy it!
Red Crown another question for you. As we all know you can change into different things, weapons but is there anything you can't change into?
I am a powerful artifact with power beyond any mortal imagination. Of course I can turn into literally anything, it doesn't have to be a weapon or even a tool. Everything depends only on the imagination of my host.
Pff… Stupid cat. Of course, I'm being able to turn into that. But being able to and wanting to are two different things. And fortunately, Wrath is unlikely to ever want this…
Because he won't, right? He is a child, doesn't he?… Right?… Right?...
Ha, ha... Narinder destroyed the mind of his former Crown.
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+ BONUS
Be calm, Red. Lucky for you, Lamb has no intention of growing up and doesn't even want to hear about these things.
