Necromancy and peace couldn’t be more opposite of each other, but that’s especially the case for Sausage.
It’s something he’s never known, not since the passing of his parents or even when he was taken in by Lady Death Herself. And definitely not when he became the vessel of the Creaking King.
A puppet given false hope, easy to be discarded. Always the right-hand of something greater than him, desperate for anything to make him feel in control. To give him a higher purpose.
When Lady Death revokes her promise of a place at Her side and reincarnates him, he finds something close to that. Replacing his soul with that of a sickly shepherd, in the very place he had once saved a life. A life that would go on for many years, mourning him throughout.
When Cam travels back to Meadowhall, nearly a year after Sausage’s passing, his gaze can’t help but linger on the face of the man in the fields. His eyes bright and blue, a long wooden staff in his hand, and in just the right lighting… he saw the silhouette of the man he loved. How he knew him to be. Gentle, kind, protective, and he finds solace in the memory.
