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What a lovely bloom coming this year. You had worked so, so hard to ensure that the garden was in tip-top shape, so diligently and meticulously tended, not a single stray leaf or fallen flower out of place. You took immense pride in your work.

A gentle, lazy humming reached your ear, and you let out a long sigh. You knew that voice - it was your Prophet, the person in charge of this monastery you'd dedicated your life to. You stood up and turned, blissful and eager to receive praise about your work in the garden as he was so often happy to give you, only to have your calm, happy feelings suddenly become mixed.

The Prophet was here, yes. That alone was more than enough to fill you with joy. However, the white cat had decided against walking to you today. Instead, he was laying lazily in the arms of one of your fellow followers - a large, muscular bull - who was carrying him around the garden. You watched in a strange mix of jealousy, bliss, and an unidentifiable emotion as he suddenly gestured for the bull to stop by a flower patch, and sink into a squat.

The bull's muscular body strained in effort to keep his balance as the cat leaned out of his cradling arms and casually pulled a flower to his nose, taking a long, deep breath and sighing. He was pleased with the bloom.

The negative feelings faded to the background. Only your pride remained.

"Good afternoon, Valentine!" Your Prophet greeted you in a singsong voice, the bull rising smoothly from his squat with a huff and carrying him closer to you. You smiled and bowed your head to him.

"Thank you, Prophet." You said, your serene smile widening as he said your name.

"You and Pride have done very good work on the gardens here." He praised you.

"Thank you, Prophet." Such a rush of pleasure, hearing his praise. You couldn't even begin to guess how long you'd been spending all your time tending the gardens, completely focused, time itself fading into the background as you worked so diligently just for this moment. It was so far beyond worth it. This was what you lived for.

"Thank you, Prophet." Pride said. Pride, that was his name. You knew that, you realized. It was easy to forget things during your tireless work in the garden.

Forget things. Just for a moment, a brief flash in your mind, a memory. It was far too indistinct to give you any meaninful information, but it did leave with you the sense that you had forgotten something.

You blinked. Pride had carried your Prophet off and out of sight. You could still hear his heavy hoofsteps on the stone pathways of the garden, even over the wind that carried your Prophet's wonderful humming to your ears.

You knelt and resumed pulling weeds.

---

You awoke from a dream. Night had fallen, though you didn't remember falling asleep. That was normal and good, of course, but that wasn't what was bothering you. You'd had a dream.

A dream. What a novel concept. You tried your hardest to remember the last dream you could remember, and came up blank. Nothing but empty space.

This one, you could remember. Just a moment of it. You were in robes, as you are now, but... different robes. Differently colored, different on your skin. Pride was there too, but he wasn't in robes. He was in a set of armor. Large, shiny, powerful armor - the armor of a paladin, your brain told you, though you weren't sure how you knew that, or if you knew that at all. Dreams were funny like that, you supposed.

You didn't like Pride in this dream. Something about his know-it-all personality, self-righteousness. You don't remember a word he said to you in the dream, but you knew how much his presence annoyed you.

Why were you so fixated on someone you barely knew? You ran your fingers through your wooly hair, trying to remember more.

You knew how to use magic in the dream. It dawned on you and you nearly gasped. You, using magic. You couldn't even picture it, now that you were awake, but in your dream, you just... felt it. You had arcane abilities at your command, spells memorized, tricks up your sleeve.

The dream was so vivid. So powerful, so clear. You were beginning to wonder if it really was a dream at all. Maybe it was a vision of the future? A sign from the heavens?

You lit a candle. Your mind had been stirred up, racing with thoughts about the dream you had. A sudden rush to adventure that awoke something inside you never knew you had. At the same time, it confused you, alarmed you. These feelings seemed alien and familiar all the same.

You knew just who would know what to do.

Quietly, calmly, you carried the candle through the halls of the monastery, and to the Prophet's private chambers. You knew he wouldn't mind you coming to see him. The Prophet was a wonderful, benevolent person, who always understood, and knew best.

To your surprise, you heard heavy hoofsteps. Pride, the bull, was steadily walking around the perimeter of the garden, patrolling. He nodded to you as you passed him, and you got a glimpse of just a little drool dripping from his chin. He... must have just had a drink, or something.

You reached the Prophet's chamber and knocked, waiting patiently.

Half a minute later, the door cracked, and a sleepy looking cat peeked out at you, rubbing one of his vividly green eyes.

"Something wrong, Valentine?" He asked, groggily. His voice felt like honey.

"Prophet." You said, bowing your head slightly. "I... had a strange dream." For just a moment, as you looked up, you saw something in his eyes. Something... hard to describe. Anxious, angry, wary... something in between those, before it disappeared back to his patient stare. "I think it might have been a vision of the future." You said.

To your delight, you seemed to say just the right thing. His stare became relaxed, and he smiled warmly at you. "Come on in, let's chat." He said, opening the door wider. You bowed to him again as you entered, and waited for him to gesture to your seat.

"So, tell me about this dream you had, sheep." He said, sitting across from you and crossing his legs under his robes. Sheep, a little nickname he used for you sometimes. You liked it a lot.

"I was in robes." You explained. "B-But- not these ones, I mean. Different robes." You stumbled. He raised an eyebrow, and you hurriedly moved on. "I knew how to use magic."

He chuckled, which startled you. "You were using magic, were you?" He asked. "What sort of magic, exactly?"

You flushed with embarrassment. "I... I don't know. I don't know anything about magic." You said. His smile widened just for a moment.

"I wouldn't think you would. After all, magic is rather difficult." He said. You nodded. You didn't know anything about magic.

"B-But in the dream, I- I did. I knew how, I could just feel it." You tried to explain.

"I believe you, Valentine, of course I do. I don't think that's a vision of the future, though. An interesting dream, no doubt." He reassured you. You sighed and nodded.

"There was something else." You said, getting another eyebrow raise. "Pride - uhm, the bull -"

"I know Pride."

"Y-Yessir, of course, uhm. He was... wearing armor." You tried to explain. "Like a paladin, or a knight."

"Oh?" The cat said, lightly amused by the notion. "And I suppose he knew how to use magic as well?"

You thought about it. You... felt like he did. You felt yourself flushing with embarrassment at the thought.

"Oh come now, Valentine. Pride? Using magic?" The Prophet laughed. "I'm sure he struggles to spell his own name. You know he prefers manual labor to any kind of study, and he drools on himself during morning prayer."

That was true. He did, you'd seen it. "I- I know it sounds ridiculous, but-"

"Valentine." He said, cutting you off gently. "I'm very glad you brought this to me." He reassured you. You relaxed and let out a breath, feeling your embarrassment fading. "And I think it's a very interesting dream. A sign of the future? I don't think so, but there might be some... less literal interpretation. So let's meditate on it together, shall we?" He suggsted. You eagerly agreed.

"Go ahead and close your eyes."

You obeyed, shutting them and sitting up straight.

"Good. Deep breaths." He instructed you. "Deeper." He said, after your first one. "Focus on my voice, and take another deep breath in, and then..."

You heard his chair scrape across the floor for a second or two as you held your breath.

"Release it, and open your eyes." He instructed you. You obeyed, your eyes opening and instantly locking onto his shining, swirling pupils. He smiled warmly at you as his eyes pulsed and shone brightly, drawing your gaze to them and keeping it there in the dimly lit room. He was so close to you now, and his eyes so bright, so beautiful. You shivered and slumped into your chair slightly.

It occurred to you that he'd been talking. You blinked your eyes and tried to focus on his words, but you just kept zoning out, slipping off into your own thoughts. You were very tired. You were going to go back to your bed and go right back to sleep, peacefully, comfortably. But before then, you were going to think about some things.

Like the garden. Your place. Where you spent all your time working so hard. You took another deep breath in, and could almost smell those flowers, hear the quiet wind chimes.

"Good sheep." He said.

"Thank you, Prophet." You replied. You weren't sure what you'd done to be praised, but his praise was never something you'd turn down.

In fact. You had dedicated your life to receiving his praise, to pleasing him, to serving him. He was your Prophet, and this was his monastery. Everything you did was in service to him. It was only natural to be awed in his presence, and only right to believe everything he told you. After all, you'd already decided he was worthy of your dedication and obedience, hadn't you?

Of course you had. That's why you were his humble, obedient gardener. You worked all day just to bring joy to him. That was your purpose in life. That was your identity.

Your dream was nothing. It was so insignificant, you've already forgotten all about it. By the time the sun rises, you'll have forgotten you had it at all. Yes, Prophet.

"Yes, Prophet." You slurred. Your bottom lip felt so heavy, drooping down as warm drool flowed down your chin. You barely registered the sensation, only for it to be instantly forgotten as the cat leaned forward, his eyes coming closer to yours.

"You've forgotten, haven't you?" He asked.

"Yes, Prophet."

"Ready to go back to your room, my little sheep?" He asked, keeping his eyes close to yours.

"Yes, Prophet."

"Good boy."

You were almost back to your room. You didn't remember leaving. You'd forgotten your candle, even. It was dark, only the moon lighting your way back, but you didn't mind. You were feeling soft, and warm, and content. You couldn't quite remember the exact reason you'd gotten up to see your Prophet, but regret was the furthest thing from your mind.

---

You were stirred from your quiet gardening the next day by the repetitive sound of metal breaking dirt. You wandered through the flowers, following the sound, until you came across Pride, the bull, digging a new flower patch. You watched him quietly from a distance as he worked, his muscles flexing and straining, his body slick with sweat. You found yourself approaching him.

"Pride." You said, quietly. He slowly turned to look at you, looking uninterested, even dazed.

"Yes, Valentine?" For some reason, him knowing your name didn't surprise you, even though you felt like it should have.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" You asked.

"New... digging new... place. For flowers." He mumbled. You stared at him, reading his expression as your mind raced. Why was this so surprising? You knew, logically, that Pride was a dumb, bulky bull. That's all you'd ever known him to be! Somehow, though, hearing him speak like this was surprising to you. What had you expected him to talk like?

"Shouldn't you be working?" Pride asked you, tugging you back to the present.

"Y-Yes! Yes. I should. Thank you." You said, quickly turning away from him and retreating to your side of the garden.

You spent the rest of your day reflecting on Pride. Why was the way he spoke surprising to you? You knew this was normal, this was all he'd ever been like, but hearing it in person, seeing his expression, it felt wrong.

Once or twice, he strolled past you, usually carrying something heavy. The way he looked at you, as if to see if you were watching, was confusing to you. It was as if he just wanted you to admire how strong he was, how hard he was working. You didn't even feel like he was trying to guilt you into working harder or anything. He just... wanted to be admired. Somehow, that seemed more in character for him.

These thoughts followed you back to your room that night. You found the day passing slowly, minutes not flowing into hours like they had been for as long as you could remember. Somehow, in your perfect life as an humble gardener, you were... distressed. You felt like something bigger than you was happening, like something was wrong. You tried to get some rest anyway.

---

Pride turned his nose up at you. "I wouldn't expect a wizard to understand." He said, his deep baritone voice undercut with a jab of distate. It made you grind your teeth and grip your staff tighter.

"And I suppose that's just because you understand the world so much better than I." You said.

"Precisely. My knowledge is founded on faith, whereas yours is founded on..." He smiled. "Mortal minds."

This line again. His "mortals teaching mortals is the blind leading the blind" bit that drove you crazy. As if the source of knowledge was what mattered, and not how effective it was.

There was a fox, sitting quietly next to you, sharpening up a dagger. He looked up at you and rolled his eyes in quiet solidarity.

You were glad he understood. Of course Pride was the arrogant one. Fitting for someone who charged headlong into battle and depended on you bailing him out with your mag-

You opened your eyes. Back in the monastery, desperately clinging to that memory. That dream. Something was happening to you. Two nights in a row was more than a coincidence. These had to be visions! They had to be!

You dressed yourself quickly and reached for your candle, only to find it missing - you'd misplaced it the night before. You shook your head and decided you didn't need one - you'd just take the garden path and walk by moonlight.

You took two steps out into the hall before you heard heavy footfalls coming toward you. You flinched and spun around, nearly falling backwards as Pride approached you aggressively. Once he was close, he recognized you and stopped.

"Oh. It's you." He said. "Thought you were an intruder."

"N-No. Just me." You said, holding your chest lightly. "You scared me."

"Oops." Pride said, turning and resuming his patrol without another word. You watched him go, still trembling slightly with adrenaline. An apology would have been nice.

You were still shaking when you made it to the door of the Prophet. Anxiously, you knocked, hoping it wouldn't irritate him that you'd visited two nights in a row. He opened the door suspiciously, but relaxed when he saw it was you.

"Valentine. Come inside." He said, as you bowed your head.

"Thank you, Prophet." You replied, relieved at his reaction. He locked the door behind you and gestured for you to take a seat.

"Prophet." You began, sitting anxiously in front of him. "I- I had another vision."

He sighed and nodded. "Very well, let's hear it." He said, not quite dismissively, but... close.

"I was with Pride and... someone else. Robes and armor again! I think- I think I was a wizard." You explained, your nervousness making you rush through your speech much faster than you intended.

"You were a wizard. Sheep... you-"

"I don't know anything about magic." You said, cutting him off. You didn't mean to. The words came to you so fast, it caught even you off guard. The cat furrowed his brow at you, and you shrank. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Go on." He said, patiently. You sighed and anxiously ran your hand through your hair.

"I- I feel like something is manipulating me." You confessed. "Something is trying to change the way I think and feel. It's almost like there are two conflicting personalities battling for control of my body."

"That's very concerning to hear." The Prophet said, furrowing his brow even more. "Do you have any idea who could be doing such a thing?"

"No, Prophet." You answered. It didn't make any sense. You had no enemies, here in the monastery. You were just a humble gardener. You couldn't possibly understand who would want to manipulate you. "M-Maybe an enemy of the faith?" You guessed.

"I thought the same thing. Some force unknown trying to corrupt your pure mind. You were right to come to me." He said, leaning forward and laying a hand on your shoulder. You smiled at him, reassured by his presence. Of course he understood, and of course he knew what to do. You'd be so lost without him.

"Let's meditate together." He said. "I will fortify your mind against these intrusions."

"Yes, Prophet." You said, sitting up straight and placing your hands on your thighs.

"Deep breath, close your eyes, and just focus on listening to me for a moment." He said, hardly even waiting for you to obey. "Breathing nice and slow, focusing on the change in my voice, to this familiar tone. Feel it relaxing you, as you open your spirit and your mind up to me. As you surrender them to my care."

You let out a long, shuddering breath. Your Prophet knew how to have an effect on you. Just as much as a simple change of voice had you feeling... tingly.

"Open your eyes."

You opened them, locking immediately onto the glowing, swirling green orbs before you. You sighed and leaned forward slightly, gazing deep into his eyes and relaxing into a puddle.

"Good sheep." He praised. "Very good. Nice and relaxed for me. Your soul, and your mind, like open books for me to read, and even to write a few entries of my own. So relaxed, so trusting. Just letting me into your mind, surrendering that control to me."

Yes. His words had so much power. It was so hard to think of anything else, so hard to do anything but what he told you. You slumped forward slightly, having trouble just sitting up with how relaxed you were. He reached a clawed finger forward and gently lifted your chin, helping you to keep your focus on his eyes where it belonged.

"You're doing so well." He praised you. "Such a good, faithful follower. So humble, so trusting. So willing to let your Prophet guide you. So willing to open your mind to me." He said. You were. You were so happy to give this to him. You couldn't think of a single person better suited to guide you, to make sense of everything and just tell you what was important. You could barely think at all.

"Tha... thaaank... you..." You mumbled, having difficulty speaking above a whisper.

"Now... this dream you had. Describe it to me again, please." He said.

Your dream. You thought hard to remember it. "I... was... a wizard. Pride was... being rude... don't like him."

"It was just a dream." He said, firmly. "Just a dream, created by someone who seeks to bring you harm. You know the truth, don't you, sheep?"

"The truth...?" You mumbled.

"Your true feelings about Pride. Your true role, and purpose. Do you remember them, Valentine? Or have you forgotten because of this silly dream?" He asked, gently. His voice had sharpened into a delicate whisper, so tender and gentle. You felt your cheeks flush as you realized that you really had forgotten the truth. How could you have been so easily manipulated?

"Relax. I can see you tensing up. Just relax, and focus on my eyes." He said, his eyes seeming to brighten slightly as you did so, your as your previous thoughts evaporated. "You do know the truth, Valentine. The truth is that you love Pride. You love him dearly. He's someone you could never be angry at. Someone you admire and trust very much. You can remember those feelings, can't you?"

You could. You took a deep breath and sighed. You really, really could. You loved Pride so much. He was so important to you, and you were so thankful for all his help on the gardens. You didn't know what you'd do without him, and his strength. You really didn't forget. You were so relieved.

"Good. Good boy." He praised you. "You're doing so well. I knew you didn't forget. I knew you had such strong faith." You shuddered, and tried to mumble a thank you, but it came out as little more than a breath. "And I'm sure you remember how you feel about me. What your role is here. Who you are."

You hesitated. Did you? It was such an easy question, you worried you were overthinking it. It was hard to put together a single thought on the matter. Maybe you didn't know after all?

"You're a follower of the Shackled God, with me, of course." He helpfully continued, smirking slightly as you let out another long sigh. "You serve me, your Prophet, by tending my garden. You respect, and obey me." He explained, slowly, patiently. It was all things you knew, of course. You loved your Prophet. You'd do anything to make him happy. You could never forget something like that.

"Y-Yehsh, Prrophett." You managed to slur out. Your lips felt so heavy, it was difficult to part them with your words.

"Relax. Lean back." He instructed, and you obeyed, slumping backward into your chair and finding it much easier to keep your eyes on him. Your breathing became so slow, it felt like you had to remember to take each breath in and out.

The Prophet stood and leaned his face down in front of yours, gently gripping your head with both hands and adjusting you so your gaze was fixed entirely on his.

"Let's do some mantras, to close up this little meditation session, hmm?" He suggested. You tried to nod, but were overpowered by his firm grip. You swallowed and tried to speak, but all of your words disappeared into the swirling green of his eyes. "Good boy." He praised, though you didn't understand why. It still felt wonderful to hear.

"Just repeat after me. Let everything you say sink into your permanent memory, right over where that dream once was. Each line overwriting those troubling memories and replacing them with ones you love, ones you trust, ones you know to be true and good. Are you ready?"

"Yeaahh." You mumbled.

"Very good. Repeat: I am a humble gardener." He began.

"I am a humble gardener." You said, with surprising clarity. Somehow, these words felt easier to say than your own. Your Prophet's words truly held great power.

"I obey my Prophet." He continued.

"I obey my Prophet."

"I have always been a humble, obedient gardener."

You hesitated, and he caught it. His eyes were brighter just for an instant, and you found yourself repeating before you realized.

"...a humble, obedient gardener." You finished.

"I don't know anything about magic." He said.

"I don't know anything about magic." You repeated.

"I love Pride." He said.

"I love Pride." You repeated.

"I admire Pride's faith and seek to match it with my own." He said.

"I admire Pride's faith and seek to match it with my own." You repeated.

"I will never let my feelings be manipulated against Pride. I love Pride." He said, especially slowly, carefully.

"I will... never let my feelings be manipulted against Pride." You repeated. "I love Pride."

"Again, just the last part." He commanded.

"I love Pride."

"Very good. Very good, Valentine. Focus on these truths. Focus on them when you have doubts, because these are things you know to be true." He commanded you, bringing himself nose-to-nose with you so that your vision was nothing but swirling green.

"Yes, Prophet." You whispered.

"Remember your faith. Your faith in me, your faith in the Shackled God. Remember your obedience, the highest tenet of your faith."

"I remember. I'll... remember." You promised him.

"Very good. Now, when you sleep tonight, you won't have another dream like you've had before. You've become immune, temporarily. Your faith is too strong for you to be manipulated like that. Instead, you'll dream of me, and the monastery, and of Pride. You'll dream of these things and you'll reinforce them in yourself. You'll make them a part of you that can never be corrupted, nor eroded, nor influenced. You'll sleep deep and wake up feeling refreshed, content, and utterly obedient to me and to your duties." He took a breath, hesitating as if going over a checklist in his head. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled his eyes away from yours. "Do you understand everything I've told you?"

You didn't. You felt like you'd already forgotten more than half of it. So many words, so many instructions. Even when they were the only thing you were focusing on, it was as if they went right through you.

"Yes, Prophet." You said, surprising yourself. Somehow, it was the only thing you knew how to say. The only thing that seemed right. You decided to trust the part of you that seemed to be in control at the moment.

"Good. Go ahead and stand up, and head back to your room. Oh, and don't forget your candle." He said, placing one in your hand and closing your fingers around it. You looked dumbly down at it, wiping a surprising amount of drool off your face with your other hand.

"I... f-feel like I can't stand up." You mumbled.

"Good. Good boy. That means that was some very deep meditation, which is very good." He explained, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a little one-handed massage that made you coo softly. "But I think you'll find that when I snap my fingers, you'll feel much more awake, just for a few moments. Long enough to stand up, and get back to your room for the night. Right... now." He said, a loud snap causing your eyes to flutter all the way open.

You slowly stood on your hooves, amazed at his wisdom. He truly held so much power, so much divine influence, no doubt from his years of meditation experience speaking to the Shackled God above. It was only normal to feel so much awe in his presence.

"Off you go." He said, smiling at you. You returned the smile without thinking, and shuffled off through the monastery, quietly humming and clutching your unlit candle.

Pride nodded to you as you approached him, and was only slightly surprised when you gave his large, bulky body a tight hug.

"Thank you, Pride." You mumbled to him sleepily.

"Don't... worry about it." He answered. If he was confused, it went over your head as you released your grip around him and shuffled back to your room for the night, the candle dropping unnoticed from your fingers as you wandered home.

---

It was the best night of sleep in your life. You woke up with a wide smile on your face, excited to start your day, to resume your duties that you enjoyed so much. You couldn't wait to see Pride again and tell him just how much you loved him, how important he was to you.

You walked with your chin high, your smile unfaltering as you went out into the garden and spotted Pride hefting heavy flower pots. His strength was amazing, especially because of his dedication to using it for such respectable duties as helping you in the garden, and protecting you at night. You headed straight for him, and when he spotted your smile, he smiled too.

"Good morning, Valentine." He greeted you.

"Good morning, Pride!" You cheerfully returned, unthinkingly reaching forward and stroking a few fingers over his tight abs. He chuckled and flexed for you, and you were all too happy to shower him in the praise he deserved, massaging his tight muscles with both hands. "Gosh, you're incredible, Pride." You said. "You work so hard, and your body is perfect proof."

"Glad you noticed." He said, chuckling dumbly and ruffling your hair.

"I had the most wonderful mediation session with our Prophet last night." You said, getting a wider smile from the bull as you slowly slid a finger over his abs, and then brought your hands back down to your sides.

"Oh yeah? Did he do the thing with the eyes?" He asked. You beamed.

"He did! Gosh, it was... otherworldly." You gushed, then noticed that Pride was still just smiling at you. It occurred to you that he probably didn't know that word. "Uhh... amazing, I meant." You explained, and he eagerly nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, I had like... four or five of those, back to back, once. It was amazing. Really helped me dedicate myself to his teachings." He bragged. "He said by the end of it I'd be a perfect servant in the image of the Shackled God. And you can just tell that it totally worked."

You really could. His body was flawless, and you doubted very much that Pride had a single doubt in his mind about his faith. He really was incredible, and you quietly made a promise to yourself to one day be as faithful and devoted as he was.

"So, I dug out that flower... bed." He said, taking a moment to remember the word, and stirring you from your thoughts.

"Thank you, Pride! Can you help me with the seeds? I think the Prophet wanted carnations there." You explained, as Pride put an arm around you, and you leaned into him slightly.

"Of course." He said with a smile.

By the Shackled God, you loved this bull.

---

You spent the entire day working to plant and create a beautiful flowerbed, which would be a part of the next bloom. It was the most wonderful, satisfying feeling to work so hard, and the day went by in a flash - you could hardly remember a moment of it. You were just so focused on the task, and on Pride, that it was over before you knew it.

You were feeling sore as you returned to your room that night. Part of you hoped that after enough days like this, you'd have a body closer to that of Pride's, or the Shackled God's. It felt a little silly, but you were sure that with enough hard work you could have something to show off and flex like Pride did.

You opened the door to your room and flopped into your bed, closing your eyes and drifting off into a near-instant sleep.

A hand gripped over your muzzle as you were shaken. Your eyes snapped open and you tried to bleat in fear and sit up, but the arms were strong and pushed you down.

"Shhh! Lenti, Lenti, it's me!" A vaguely familiar voice said. You slowly turned your head and met the gaze of a fox, one you had seen before but couldn't remember where. After a few seconds of eye contact, he let go of your muzzle. "Thank the Gods you're alright."

You nodded, unsure of why he was speaking to you this way. You felt anxious, and confused. "Why wouldn't I be alright?" You asked him.

He blinked. "Uhh. Right, well, do you still have your staff? We're going to need the full Lenti arsenal if we hope to-"

You gasped and sat up, realizing what he was saying. "PRIDE! PRIDE!" You shouted. "HELP!"

The fox panicked. "Lenti- Lenti, what the fuck are you doing?" He said in a hushed whisper, standing up and drawing his daggers as Pride rushed into the room. You cautiously stood up behind him, pressing your back against the wall as he eyed the bull. "Pride. It's me. It's Lance." He pleaded. "Come on. We need your help, big guy."

"Drop the daggers." Pride said. "I don't want to hurt you."

The fox - Lance - glanced back at you, his panic escalating at the utter lack of recognition in your eyes. "D-Did that Priest guy do something to your memories? It's only been a few days, he can't have- no way he-" He locked eyes with Pride, watching the bull intently. "Lenti. Come on, you remember me. You know who I am." He pleaded, his back to you. "I really need your wizard powers right now."

Wizard... powers? Lenti? You- You remembered that nickname. He'd called you that before. The Prophet and Pride didn't call you that, so why was it so familiar? Could... could you really-

A sharp laugh cut your thoughts short. It was Pride, belly laughing at the terrified fox.

"Save your breath." He spat. "Valentine is a devoted follower, as am I. His faith is too powerful for your lies. Your only option is to surrender."

He was right. You'd let yourself waver for just a moment, but your faith had shone through. It was just like the Prophet had told you: you were immune! Pride's confidence was infectious and inspiring, and you stood up tall.

This fox must have been the one manipulating you, attempting to manipulate you into serving him rather than your holy duties. It wasn't going to work - you were more sure of your faith and obedience to this monastery, and its Prophet, than ever.

The fox still had his back to you, his eyes on the laughing bull. You lunged forward and shoved him from behind with all of your might, eliciting a yelp of surprise as he tumbled forward. Pride was quick, stepping in front of the tumbling fox and catching his wrists. With practiced ease, he twisted the fox's wrists and pulled his arms behind him, the daggers clattering loudly on the floor as the fox let out a whine of pain.

You quickly stepped in and kicked them away with a hoof as Pride twisted his arms, giving him a clear demonstration of what awaits him if he keeps struggling. You smiled, glowing with pride for yourself and admiration for you fellow follower.

"Uhm, what do we do? Take him to the Prophet?" You asked. "I think this is the one who was giving me those strange dreams."

"Please- Please, Lenti. Listen to yourself. How could I have been giving you drea- aagh!" He yelped as Pride twisted his arm again.

"You will speak only when spoken to by our Prophet." He said, firmly. You squeezed around him and opened the door, and together you walked through the moonlit corridors of the monastery.

The fox had one last trick up his sleeve. In an incredible display of flexibility, he flipped himself forward, letting Pride support all of his weight as he straightened his body and kicked up at the bull's chin. The bull flinched and dropped him, and he hit the ground with a roll and stood up to make a run for it-

Only his foot to find your lost candle, causing it to fly out from underneath him and drop him painfully on his rear. You leapt on him to stop him from getting up, and in an instant, Pride was dragging him up from beneath you, holding his arms much more painfully tight behind his back this time and grumbling his frustration. The fox looked bewildered, terrified, and utterly defeated. For some reason, that brought you a strange feeling that wasn't joy.

You wrote it off. No doubt a lingering effect of his evil ministrations.

The fox whimpered and pleaded to deaf ears as Pride dragged him to the door of the Prophet's chamber, and you knocked. Pride held the fox still until the door cracked open, and the Prophet peeked out. The moment he saw the fox, his expression shifted to a wide, smug smirk, and he pushed the door open and stretched.

"What's this about?" He asked, though he seemed to have an idea.

"Prophet." Pride began, twisting the fox's arm again seemingly just to get a defeated yelp out of him. "This intruder broke into the monastery."

"I think he's the one who was giving me those dreams." You said, ignoring the frustrated whimper from the fox as you did so.

"I see. Well, you both did very well to bring him to me." The Prophet said, smirking at him. "I trust his lies have done nothing to sway the both of you?"

"Not a thing, Prophet." Pride said. "I saw right through his lies. He wasn't expecting us to have such strong faith."

"It's true!" You said, eager to take some credit for yourself. "He tried to manipulate us both, but I didn't let him. Our meditation made me immune to his deceit. My faith made me immune!" You stated, overflowing with pride.

"I see. Very impressive, you two, very impressive. I suspect you don't even remember word he told you." The Prophet said, though his gaze was still on the fox.

"Not a word, Prophet!" You eagerly answered.

"I wasn't listening to him at all." Pride said. "I was repeating the mantras from our meditations in my head instead, Prophet."

You felt strangely jealous. Pride was so devout, and he always knew just what to say. The Prophet looked very pleased, though thankfully he seemed happy with the both of you.

The fox squirmed, and you focused again.

"What should we do with him, Prophet?" You asked.

"Oh, I believe our monastery has room for another follower." The Prophet said, sizing up the fox and gesturing for you all to come inside.

You blinked. "A-Are you sure that he's-"

Pride stepped forward, dragging the fox inside as the cat gently shushed you. "I choose to believe that he's just confused, sheep. I think that with some meditation, we could have... a breakthrough." He said, folding his hands and looking behind him to give the fox a toothy grin. He looked back to you, and gestured for you to come inside.

His private chamber was crowded with so many inside, though you were relieved to see that the fox had mostly stopped his squirming.

"Now, I think it'd be best if we just started with a simple group mediation." The Prophet said, sitting back in a chair and crossing his legs. You'd never seen him so pleased. You couldn't quite understand why, but he just looked like he was enjoying this. "Go ahead and make him kneel in front of me, if you would, Pride."

"Yes, Prophet." He droned, dragging the fox forward and pushing him down to his knees. The cat stretched a leg and lifted the fox's chin with a clawed toe, smiling down almost reassuringly at him. "Now, I want each of you to take a nice, deep breath, and slowly let it out."

"P-Please." The fox whimpered. You all seemed to ignore him.

"Close your eyes, and take another, nice and slow." He said, pitching his voice up as if he was on the verge of giggling. "And then let it out, and keep your eyes on me." He said.

When you opened your eyes, his were bright and swirling. Your exhale became a contented sigh as a familiar feeling washed over you, that only became more pleasant as you heard both Pride and the fox letting out a similar sound.

"Good. Very good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked, giggling lightly and adjusting his foot to help hold the fox's chin up just a little easier. "I'm sure two of you are letting a very familiar, powerful feeling wash over you. You two are free to bask in that feeling, and enjoy it, and do your own meditation. You can remember your mantras and repeat them for now."

"Yes, Prophet." You and Pride said in unison. You zoned out almost instantly, your mind becoming a wash of different words and phrases. It occurred to you that Pride was saying his aloud, mumbling almost incoherently about strength and servility. You, too, started whispering the words you'd dreamt of so distinctly. "I obey my Prophet. I love Pride." So on.

The Prophet was still speaking, so you were still listening. "And as for you, well. I think right now you should focus on relaxing completely. Getting yourself nice and deep in this feeling welling up in you. Feeling it lurch forward and get a stronger grip on your mind just..." He snapped his fingers, and you shivered. "...like..." Another snap, that drew a low moan from Pride. "...that." Snap.

Your chin dropped down and you caught yourself, feeling like you were nodding off just from the intense sensation. You wanted to look down and see how the fox was doing, but you couldn't even begin to pull your eyes off the swirling green.

"Good. Very good. You fought so hard, so long, just to avoid this. Did you realize you were going to enjoy it so much? That it would feel so good to surrender?" He asked.

"N-No..." The fox mumbled.

"That's fine. You know now. You know how good this feels, how easy it is to give in. It's okay to let this feel good. There's really no shame in giving in now, after so much effort resisting." He said, licking his lips slightly. "You've earned it."

"...Okay." The fox said. Even with your eyes on your Prophet, you could see how tired the fox looked. He was slumped so far forward, now, his chin rested on the Prophet's foot like it was the only thing keeping him conscious, his arms hanging down at his sides. Pride must have lost his grip when you all relaxed.

"Very good. And so you won't struggle any more, will you? You'll be good and listen, because you've earned it." He asked.

"Yeah..." The fox mumbled. Pride let out a quiet huff, clearly even more affected by this than you were.

The noise caught the cat's attention and he smirked at the both of you, your heart fluttering during the brief moment his gaze lingered on you.

"You two. Pride, Valentine. You've done so well. I'm VERY pleased with the both of you. But, I think it's time for me to have a little one-on-one time with our new follower." He said, gently lifting the fox's chin a little higher and getting a quiet whimper from him. "I think... you two should go back to your rooms, and enjoy a long, restful sleep. And, in the morning, we'll all enjoy a nice meditation session together." He promised, though his eyes were on the fox again. "Get everyone... up to speed."

"Yes, Prophet." You said together.

"Good boys. Off you go." He said. "And, as for you..." He trailed off, smiling down at the fox as you and Pride bowed and exited together.