Parvena: Bishop Of Peace🦋🧡

ooooohh my goood this comic!!

i remember reading the first part and i was intrigued! i loove cotl npc’s lore sm you don’t understand.

oooooo the way you built a connection between them by both being predators oooooooooo

The Fox reminiscing old times when they were feared and intimidating, Haro changing their ways and became ’that chill wise dude who archives world events ( mostly family dramas) as a hobby ‘ ooooooo i love ittt :>>>>> Haro my beloved ✨



I finally finished this comic! Let's pretend it wasn't half a year ago. I think there should be an interesting dynamic between a hunting god (even a former one) and an eternally hungry (and maybe even starving) creature.

OMG NOOOO 😭😭

I TOLD YOU I FIND IT HARD TO TELL YOU ABOUT MY OBSESSION DIRECTLY

ignore this post finals fatigue was jumping me🥰 ( btw tis my other account)

instead of studying i’ve made this blog bc i’ve came to the realization that i don’t have many friends who like listening to me 🥰🙏🏽

I know the sentiment of the day gets swept up into romantic love a lot, but I think it's important to remember that today wasn't about romance. It was about love, of all kinds, and there is no greater love than to love yourself.

If you spent the day alone, like I did, then don't feel like you've missed out or were undeserving in some way. Instead, take from today that you are enough without needing someone else beside you. You have come so far, often times without a loving voice beside you. You survive the trials and tribulations of life every day, in a way that is entirely unique from anyone else in the entire world.

You did that, nobody else.

Happy end to Valentine's Day everyone, remember to love yourself above all. I hope you all find the self-appreciation you deserve in life. It's hard, but you can do it.

There's only one of you, and they're perfect.

They always will be <3

YEEEEAAAAAAAAA

Hekets for the minority of Heket enjoyers.

Holy shit??

You will never be part of this world, Lonely God

Based on Gustav Klimt's painting "Death and Life"

Shamura human concept draw! (1 of ?)

I really love how they look!!

love love love this analysis of Shamura’s injury

Is Shamura training martial arts after being taken into Lamb's cult? If they enjoyed complexity and bloodshed of war than it'd be probably dissapointing for them if they had to... drop it all

Full under the cut because this turned out really long

Upon joining the cult Shamura was a shell of their former self. They join the cult dissenting, the long term effects of the crown still clawing at the edges of their mind, but after a few days they’re mortal, just themself. Without the crown to hold them together they suffer like their injury was yesterday.

The Lamb has the doctor, Puar, perform their usual tests on them. Shamura is hardly there. They don’t know their own name, can hardly speak, can’t stand or track movement.

There was no wisdom in their slurred words. No power in the way their hands shook.

The outlook is bad.

The Lamb doesn’t really want to help them, after everything, why should they. Shamura who had The Lamb’s entire race and family killed, who killed them aswell and countless of their followers. It would cost them so much, to try and help someone who spent so long just trying to destroy them and everything they had. The time, energy, resources it would cost and they didn’t even know if they could get better.

Deciding it wasn’t worth it was one thing, but getting the other ex bishops to understand was a whole other, even the doctor disagreed with them.

Dr Puar took on being their primary caregiver. They’d been a doctor for the past hundred years and seen concussions and dementia but nothing nearly as severe as this. They wanted to help Shamura but didn’t know how.

It wasn’t until Narinder joined the cult that The Lamb saw any reason to help Shamura. But there was something wrong with him and Shamura knew something, they just had to get to it.

Kallamar was the ex bishop Puar wanted the help from the most. He was scared of the lamb and red crown but he loved Shamura more.

The Lamb took Puar and Kallamar to the ruins of the temples in Anchordeep and Silk Cradle. They spent days digging through the decimated remains of the libraries for something, anything on this type of injury.

It seemed that they where looking down possible years of intense recovery. Needed herbs and medicines that may no longer exist, techniques Puar had never heard of. But they would try.

Puar took careful and detailed notes. Timed Shamura’s responses, wrote down everything they said, tracked eating, drinking, sleeping and every symptom they displayed. Improvements where slow and sometimes nonexistent at first. They took full minutes to respond and only in single words, barley moved, couldn’t feed themselves and suffered constant migraines.

The one thing that seemed to help them the most was their siblings. They didn’t remember them most days but every time one of they came to check in it raised their spirits. One of their faces was the only thing they could focus on sometimes.

Kallamar insisted he wasn’t a doctor but still worked around the infirmary, helping Shamura was the only thing he’d do without complaining. Heket spent hours sitting in silence with them, brought them food and flowers and changed their bandages. Leshy was the only thing that could get them to smile and they where the only person he would ever lower his voice for, he told them stories even though they hardly listened.

Improvements brought new challenges. They got better at speaking full sentences and following conversations but it revealed how fractured their memory was. Forgetting names, places and important events, how often they forgot where they where, they asked the same questions over and over again.

They complained of seeing and hearing things, phantom pains with seemingly no rhyme or reason. The sun hurt their eyes, rain gave them headaches, always sleeping but always tired. They would suddenly backslide constantly. One day could walk with minimal help and the next, couldn’t even hold a pen in their hand. Have a full conversation one day and hardly spit out their name tomorrow.

Until the day Puar looked Shamura in the eye and for once they saw him. Didn’t look past them with their blank stare but looked at them. They would ask to sit outside at night in the fresh air. They seemed to know now who they are, what they where, what they lost. A tinge of grief in their words.

Improvements brought frustration. On days they remembered who they where they were overcome with a mix of anger, guilt and despair. They where a god. They had bore down on armies, killed men with a twitch of a finger, brought other gods to their knees, and now they could hardly bring a cup to their mouth.

Emotionally, their siblings said they’d never seen them like this before. Before Shamura could be frustrated but their temper was cold and quiet. Now they wore a short fuse and suffered constant mood swings. It angered them that they couldn’t read, that their hands were numb, that they couldn’t walk without a cane, couldn’t go out in the sun, couldn’t string a full sentence together, couldn’t recognize their siblings faces, couldn’t feed themselves, couldn’t sleep without drugs, everything they lacked and lost wore them down.

Regardless, they where unusually steadfast. They would always pick back up. If they got frustrated they would try again in a few days. They tried anything Puar asked of them, anything for the smallest iota of improvement.

The outlook was better.

—————

This got out of control and took me like three days between the art and write up. I got really excited when I saw this ask cause the answer is so devastating. If I was taking Narinder’s trauma seriously I’m not gonna just ignore Shamura’s traumatic brain injury.

As a side note, I’m very unsure how to write the medical stuff, my guess is that cotl is based around 1300’s-1700’s but that’s a wide net to cast. My excuse for the stronger understanding of medicine and trauma is magic.

The four horsemen of doomed Narilamb

absolutely cooked with this one holy crap

Woe of the Bolide

Alone, binded in recompense,

Feel the binds tear at your flesh,

1000 years; No family left,

Sorrow claims the Lord of Dying.

How could they think to treat us so?

When not so very long ago,

Among the stars our fates were sewn,

A family, beautifully thriving.

Was it necessity that drove the knife?

Deep to the heart from Kin to Kin,

The bells shall ring as the spider sings,

"Why, oh why, sweet life?"

Or was it jealousy run rife?

Did they feel and fear the end of life?

How it might come quick and cut them short,

Did they feel their actions fair retort?

No other way, lacking remorse?

Death for He, Undying.

One dark thought, a single pain,

Flashes stark inside Death's brain,

If morality is shades of grey

Who there was shaded darkest?

Here we lay, a corpse in shawl,

Betwixt white walls of wayward souls,

Hear their calls and deathly throes,

Stuck between Death and What's Remaining.

Within these very hallowed halls,

Bellow the bawls and calls of thralls,

How we'd trade them all for a chance once more,

At life with those who spite us

One day, however, the fates shall change,

Send the key, formed in the shape,

Of woollen service to the ever great,

Their flock perfect for the flaying

It will be they who liberate,

Ichor stained chains that hold and cage,

The one true lord, Long live his reign!

Death, unbound and thriving

Then from eternal void shall rise again,

Beauty and grace,

The lasting change,

That of Death....

Eternal Ending.

"The Bishops gave their order, and none could question it. The lambs were to be dragged to the slaughter, each and every one- no matter how innocent."

COTLtober Day Twenty Eight: Genocide Cold and flu season seems to have finally caught up to me- I am feeling very blah right now. I decided to be very fast and loose with this day's drawing as a result, so pardon the sudden drop in quality. Not sure if I'll be up to doing art for the rest of the prompts either, but I'll see how I feel. At the very least, I want to try to get out rough sketches or quick flat pieces like this to potentially revisit when I feel better.