Chapter Text
For the first time in a while, Kakavasha had started dreaming again. His nights before his arrival at the temple were usually bleak, only serving to pump him full of energy for the next day of work. No dreams, no nightmares, no nonsense. He had gotten used to this, yet he often found himself still getting up and trying to recall at least something, even if it's only a little insignificant segment. It was of no use however: no sweet visions of his desires would grace his mind and he came to terms with it fairly quickly. After all, there wasn't much time to ponder on it, only the rare brief moments of rest he would get on seldom days before he would be forced to resume the tireless cycle he was going through.
But this absence of his sleep soon disappeared and he had a pretty solid guess as of why. Ever since coming to this wretched temple, he started getting what he learned not to miss, finally able to dream. It started small, like walks in lush green fields with no flowers or simply sitting still on a chair in an empty room. It was these little things that Kakavasha started remembering from his sleep. He acted unusually in his dream, like he had no autonomy. The control he had over his body was minimal, each of his movements pushed by a subconscious will he didn't know. He often woke up in a cold sweat, clutching his new robes that were placed over his body, trying to forget the dread of not being in control.
Not soon after, he came to see the being that changed his sleep pattern. They never spoke, the figure of the man always ever so slightly out of reach. He walked closer and closer but never quite touched him or heard his voice clearly, like seeing someone in the horizon and being unable to listen to them because of the distance. He called out, but no answer came, and Kakavasha thought this would be about as much as he could get from him. He knew who he was despite not ever talking with them or having seen them, it was only logical to assume they were the god of this temple. And he didn't want to get too involved- or better said more involved- ever since taking the official position of being a priest.
Each night, he would wrap himself in blankets next to the altar, slowly letting the rest settle in his bones, dozing off and starting his long deep sleep. And as much as he didn't want to know more about his duties or involvement with this entity, it was inevitable as soon he had his first real interaction with it. In one of his dreams, Kakavasha found himself on a cloud, overtop being a clear light blue sky, spotless of any other clouds. He knew this was a dream, sitting on clouds like these was impossible. He looked around and soon found the one he knew would be there, the silhouette of the man in white with large wings. He startled when he noticed he was no more than a few paces away, sitting properly and looking at him.
No, not looking actually. He had 3 pair of small wings sprouting from behind his ears, one of which covered his eyes. Behind his long white and silky mane was a large golden halo with delicate details carved into it, glowing like melted gold. From his back, another pair of wings, significantly larger this time, hugged his frame, like a cloth used for the lower half of his body. His torso was uncovered by the feathers, showing the pute white tunic on his body and another cloth of regal divine blue draped across his chest. His hands were unblemished, never having worked a day in his life, his lips soft like he had never lied or sinned with them. They curved into a small smile, like a smooth marble statue sculpted by his followers.
Kakavasha had been taught not to stare by his previous master, yet his manners were now being completely tossed out the window in favor of gawking at the ethereal presence before him. It took him at least 1 long minute before he had to force himself to look down, suddenly feeling his throat parched and his lips dry as he tried to swallow the knots forming in his neck. He still couldn't move properly, the dread of his helplessness washing over him slowly yet again. He tried speaking, and found that this time it was possible, letting his first words to the person tumble out instinctively.
"Where am I?" Was his first question, a logical one despite how fantastic and magic the surroundings were.
"In a dream. A gift to you." The god responded. They didn't seem fazed by the human in the slightest, their smile never faltering. Kakavasha startled internally after hearing their voice. The features of the god were so delicate that he believed them to belong to a woman, not a man, especially one with a voice this velvety and smooth. It was almost hypnotizing, luring him into a sense of safety. He hated the feeling, like ants crawling all around his brain trying to influence his thoughts and feelings, clawing into his head to establish an unwanted connection. "I am Sunday, the god of sleep and dreams. My messenger bird told you of your role as the priest and keeper of my home, the temple. Because of your efforts I wanted to offer you an audience with me as a gift." The man smiled gently, not moving at all while he spoke, like he really was a divine statue.
To say he was bewildered was un understatement. 'After all the hard work I put in his gift to me is an official meeting?' Kakavasha felt his head spinning. 'The divine must be very stingy if that's all there is to this.' But he banished his thoughts as quickly as they came. Who knew if the deity in front of them could hear them or not, being in a dream world after all. Instead he chooses to ask his second question. Questioning him for motives might as well be asking for death, so he settles on something else.
"Is this my only job as your priest? To make sure your temple is clean?" He felt a tick of irritation under his skin. He wouldn't be just some everyday housekeeper to this god. From a slave to a maid, although it was an upgrade, it didn't seem very generous as "Sunday" had put it.
"Of course not." Sunday seemed baffled at this question in return which left both of the men slightly surprised. He clears his throat before continuing. "As a priest, your job is to guide the people who are losing faith in me, to help them see their lessened devotion and to help them pray. You may also bring other non-believers under my wing for I cherish each and every of my followers." He smiles softly and radiantly, their golden crown of light shining a little brighter. "You are now a holy messenger of my word. You are the deliverer of my will. You are..."
"Kakavasha." The man completes for him, feeling the name tumbling past his lips before he can stop himself from saying it. It startles him to know he really isn't in full control of his body here, but Sunday doesn't seem to mind the interruption as much.
"What a humble name." He remarks with subtle praise, as if amused by it. "But you are now a symbol of divinity, it cannot suffice I'm afraid." The deity sits quiet for a long time, pondering something only they know. Kakavasha can only be left to stare in silence and slight indignation, feeling his cheeks slightly heating up against his will. He was a master of deceit, yet in this realm it was as if all his emotions were bare for anyone to see. He didn't like it.
"...Aventurine!" Sunday exclaims, face lighting up with a brighter smile. "What a fitting and precious name! Do you like it?" the god asks the other, head tilted only by a fraction, keeping his stance as tall and straight as ever.
"Yes." Aventurine bit back the complaint and looked down at his knees. His old name was just fine wasn't it? Why feel the need to change it? He could see his clothes, humble white robes and nothing else. It didn't quite show the luxury of his new name which internally irritated him further. But as if reading his mind, Sunday extended his hand, holding something in it.
"Here. This is the proof of our bond. Make sure you don't lose it, it's the only on in the whole wide world." The god smiles, letting the mans slightly dirty fingers to brush against his skin as he took the "proof". It was a gold necklace, the rims thickened into the shape of a crescent moon. Embedded in it, were big pieces of aventurine all square in shape, the largest being in the middle and the smallest being at the tips of the necklace which met behind his neck. Aventurine draped it around his neck and it magically clicked shut, securing the jewelry in place. It felt like a shackle that hung loose on his collarbone, something he willingly placed around his neck that wouldn't release him no matter what. He just willingly trapped himself in the custody of this god forever. The thought made him sick.
"Off you go now, dear companion. May your day be as blessed as this dream." Sundays words felt like ripples on still water, something that was jolting him awake and pulling him out of this reverie state. His eyelids pulled downwards and he felt himself growing heavier with fatigue, the kind you get after a very long and deep sleep. His eyes opened slowly to be met with the first rays of dawn, seeing people in the distance already making their way to the temple with offerings to thank the deity for a good sleep and sweet dreams. His neck felt heavy and when he placed a hand there to check, he felt a cold metal shocking him to reality.
"...The necklace from my dream." He muttered, feeling a chill run down his spine. How? For how long? He never got to ask those questions, but he shook his head, clearing his head of dreadful thoughts. 'For now, my life depends on how well I perform.' he repeated in his mind over and over 'For now, I must please this monster holding me captive.'.
And with a deep inhale, the man got up from his make shift bed next to the altar. Kakavasha died and Aventurine the holy priest was born.