#that’s why followers born in the cult all have bell pendants.

[erose-this-name]

Every Time a Bell Rings

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet

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It had been a long night serving at the drinkhouse for the yellow-furred cat follower (of varying name). He is behind on getting everything cleaned and shut down for the day.

Then the Lamb happens to walk by, yawns, and picks up a mop. Their favorite, eldritch mop.

The yellow cat says, “Leader, it’s fine, really, I can handle this on my own.”

“And yet, you have my help.” The Lamb smiles.

If the yellow cat has learned anything about his leader, it’s that they’re not the kind to delegate. If they see something that needs doing, they just do it. No matter how dirty. This is starkly contrast to every other crown bearer he’s ever heard of.

The bell around the Lamb’s neck rings with each push of their mop.

“Leader, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why are you always wearing that bell?” The yellow cat asks.

“Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not annoying, is it? I suppose I could change into another fleece…” Lamb says.

Yellow cat says, “No, no! Not at all. Actually, it's nice to hear you’re near, makes me feel safe. It’s just, I mean, a lot of us have been wondering why you wear it? Isn’t it annoying for you?”

“Oh, baahaahaa! Yeah, I guess it’s not a very ‘fashionable’ accessory, is it?” The Lamb laughs.

Somehow the thought people would question the bell has never crossed the sheep's mind. They goes back to mopping, their brow furrowing slightly.

“Um, so when I was very young, I used to crawl all over the place. You know how babies do that. And, my parents were afraid I’d wander too far and, uh… attract the Bishops to our hidden refuge. So they put the bell on me. So they’d always know where I was. Even when I got old enough to not need it, when I understood… it just kind of felt wrong if a bell doesn’t ring with every step, you know? I was so used to it.” They say.

The cult leader has been absentmindedly moping and mopping the same patch of floor well past the point of spotless.

The Lamb holds the base of the bell and rings it in their hand. Its tinkling sound rings clearly. “I find it calming.”

Yellow Cat sees that several other faint children’s names had been crudely engraved into the base of that old, dinged up bell, then scratched out. Each name’s marks are increasingly worn down and filled with tarnish. The last name has had every letter except L-A-M-B scratched off, in their place are marks fresh enough to still expose raw shiny brass beneath the layers of patina.

SHEPHERD RAMSES BOPEEP COSSETTE LAMBERT

The feline follower’s expression had been steadily falling through the whole story. “Oh, right. Of course… I’m sorry I asked, Leader.”

The Lamb puts on a half smile and coquettishly tilts their head to the side. “Don’t worry about it. Also, the collar keeps my head from falling off.”

"Huh?"

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One day, many days later, Leshy and that same yellow furred cat he hangs around barge into the Lamb’s office.

The yellow cat stutters, face turning more red than yellow. “Hey, Leader, so… um…”

Leshy cuts off yellow cat, “I have utilized this lowly cat’s perfect genes to mother a demigod heir to rival your tyranny, foul Lamb.”

Leshy holds up an egg. It is the cult’s first birth.

The Lamb stares, at a loss for words, “What?… an *egg*? I thought you’re both male? Didn’t you just… HOW?”

“Do not underestimate the power of my clitellum, small-minded mammal!” Says the green earthworm.

The yellow cat mumbles, traumatized, “I didn’t even realize we were having sex that way, worms are so weird…”

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The egg is about to hatch. Yellow Cat, Leshy, Lamb, Shamura, Kallamar, Narinder, and Heket have gathered around to watch.

Kallamar delivers the baby and, despite being a potent source of slime himself, he recoils at the albumin and viscera.

Yellow Cat and Lamb are the only one’s to greet the new life with smiles, everyone else grimaces at the hideous abomination of nature. Except for Leshy and Shamura, who have no idea what’s happening.

Leshy asks, “Well? Is it mighty? DOES IT HAVE MY TEETH?” 

Kallamar wrinkles his lack of a nose, “It’s… uh, I mean, I guess it is healthy, but…”

Narinder says, “It’s an ‘it’, alright. Aym and Baal were much cuter kits.”

“SACRILEGIOUS BEAST, GIVE ME THE RED CROWN, SO I MAY SEE MY CHILD THROUGH IT!” The horned worm leaps at the Lamb, trying to wrestle the Red Crown away from them.

“NEVER! IT’S MINE! MY PRECIOUS!” The woolly God of Death roars as they push the ex-god off them. Narinder rolls his eyes.

Yellow cat says, nervously, “They’re… I mean, I love them, and they’re a perfect ball of joy… but…”

“WON’T SOMEONE TELL ME HOW OUR CHILD LOOKS?!” Leshy cries.

“… ugly…” Heket croaks.

Leshy falls to his knees, “NOOOOOOO!”

Yellow cat turns to the Lamb and gently hands the baby to them.

“Leader, we talked it over, and we thought it’d be best if you name it.” Yellow cat says.

The Lamb smiles, “I’d be honored to-”

“Wait, no, what were you thinking, cat? GET AWAY FROM MY DEMIGOD, GOD-MURDERER! Shamura, you shall name it!” Leshy commands.

The ex-chaos bishop rips the infant away from the Lamb and thrusts it into Shamura’s arms, who is about as surprised as everyone else.

The concussed spider looks down at their new niece/nephew, cradling it in two of their arms while gently wrapping it in a silk swaddle with another two. Tiny malformed fingers wrap around a thin chitinous thumb.

Shamura mumbles, “Hmm… Yes. I see you, lowliest worm, just begun. Becoming our moon, yet you reached for the sun. One becomes zero becomes two. You are named ‘Metztli’, aren’t you? She has your eyes, Leshy. And my thumb.”

The yellow cat smiles, “‘Metztli’, what a beautiful name. Leshy, your eye looked like that? They’re so pretty!”

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Several days later, after returning from an impromptu crusade, Lamb knocks on Leshy and the yellow cat’s door. They are greeted by the cat.

The Lamb says, “Hello! I have a gift for Meztli… uh, Metzi? Mets-klee-”

“Metztli?” The cat corrects.

Lamb nods, “Yes, that. I can speak in tongues, how do you do that?”

The Lamb gives the yellow cat a small box. The feline follower opens it to find a single fine golden bell on a soft ribbon necklace. It is expertly engraved with the name Metztli.

Lamb says, their own bell jingling, “I’ve been worrying about her… I just wanted to keep her safe.”

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#cult of the lamb #writing #fanfic #leshycat #cotl leshy #that’s why followers born in the cult all have bell pendants. #its pronounced mets-tl-i #it’s all about the mets #(tli)