Desires & Heresy

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the polished marble walls of the treasury chamber, casting long shadows as Eleanor leafed through the financial ledgers. 

The numbers weren't adding up.

She had expected minor inconsistencies—donations misplaced, clerical errors. But this… this was systematic. Coin chests were vanishing entirely, sums reallocated without clear purpose. It wasn't a simple miscalculation. It was deliberate.

Eleanor exhaled slowly, her golden eyes scanning the rows of figures. How long has this been happening?

The heavy wooden door creaked open behind her. She didn't need to turn to know who had entered.

"Working late, High Priestess?" Zane's voice was smooth as ever, but laced with curiosity. His robes rustled as he stepped forward, leaning slightly to glance at the ledgers on the desk.

She nodded, closing the book with a quiet thud. "There are… discrepancies."

Zane raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Discrepancies?"

She hesitated. "Some of the donations never reach their intended recipients. Funds are… disappearing."

Zane frowned, his amber eyes darkening. "Gone? As in—stolen?"

Eleanor sighed. "I don't want to assume the worst. There could be errors in documentation."

Zane's expression shifted. A flash of something rare, "genuine anger" crossed his face. He reached for the ledger, flipping through the pages as his jaw tightened.

"You don't want to assume the worst?" His voice carried an edge now. "This isn't an accident. Look at this—entire chests of coins missing from the treasury, donations recorded but never distributed. And you—" He exhaled sharply, snapping the book shut. "You don't even look surprised."

Eleanor stiffened. "I…"

"You knew." His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. "Didn't you?"

She held his gaze, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. "Of course, I know that not every priest is without sin, Zion. I'm not naïve."

Zane tilted his head slightly, watching her. He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. Then, he smiled, hiding it behind his fingers—an attempt to smother his amusement. And just like that, any trace of frustration melted away, replaced by something far more calculating.

"You already know this happens, High Priestess. But do you know how deep it runs?"

The words landed heavier than she expected.

Eleanor folded her arms, the motion pushing against the tight fabric of her robes, making the restrained swell of her chest shift before settling again. "The church is vast. I have always known there were those who took more than they should. But it is not my place to doubt the will of the gods."

Zane let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "The gods' will?" He stepped closer, voice lowering. "Faith should be absolute, but men are not. Tell me, Eleanor… if a man wears holy robes, does that make his hands clean?"

She hesitated.

"You trust too easily." He wasn't smiling anymore. "Not because you are foolish, but because you want to believe this place is still pure."

His words struck deeper than she liked.

Eleanor's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the desk. "And what do you believe, High Priest Aldrich?"

Zane studied her for a moment, then exhaled, shaking his head. "I believe faith is not blind obedience. It is action."

The words lingered between them.

A gust of wind from the high windows made the candle flames flicker, casting their shadows against the treasury walls.

Eleanor closed the ledger. "If corruption runs deeper than I realize… then I will deal with it."

Zane watched her closely. "Will you?"

She turned toward him fully now, shoulders squared, unwavering. "I will."

But as she spoke, Zane saw the faintest hesitation in her golden eyes.

A crack. Small—but there.

And that was enough.

Later That Night, in Eleanor's Private Quarters.

The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering candles. Eleanor sat at her desk, fingers resting lightly against her temple.

She couldn't stop hearing his words.

"You already know this happens, High Priestess. But do you know how deep it runs?"

Her hands curled into fists.

She had always believed that righteousness could overcome greed, that those who strayed from the path could be guided back. But tonight, for the first time, a terrible thought crept into her mind.

What if faith alone isn't enough?

A sharp chime rang in the cathedral tower—midnight.

Next Morning.

The courtyard was quiet, the wind carrying hushed whispers through the halls.

Eleanor sat beneath the marble gazebo, shoulders stiff, her high-collared robes doing little to hide the tension in her posture. Her fingers loosely wrapped around a cup of tea, though she had barely taken a sip. The snug fabric at her chest rose and fell with each slow breath, the strain of a sleepless night lingering in the tight set of her jaw. Across from her, Zane sat with the casual ease of a man who belonged wherever he stood.

But there was something else in his expression today. A weight. A concern.

Or at least, that's what he wanted her to see.

"You didn't sleep well." His voice was soft, but knowing.

Eleanor exhaled, gaze lowering. "There's much on my mind."

Zane leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the carved stone table between them. "The missing funds?"

A brief pause. Then, she nodded.

Zane sighed, running a hand through his hair, as if troubled. "I shouldn't say this…" He hesitated, then met her gaze. "But you're worried about what the high clergy would say, aren't you?"

Eleanor stiffened. "It's not that simple, Zion."

"Isn't it?" He tilted his head. "If you feared nothing, you would have acted already."

Eleanor's grip tightened on the porcelain cup. "I don't fear them."

"Then prove it."

She frowned. "And how do you suggest I do that?"

Zane let out a slow breath, looking away briefly before speaking—as if he were hesitant to even say the words. But of course, hesitation was a part of his act.

"If you doubt them, High Priestess…" His voice was calm, careful, as if he were merely suggesting a harmless thought. "…why not conduct your own investigation?"

Eleanor blinked.

"Discreetly, of course," he continued. "I would never suggest anything improper. But surely, if the gods bless the righteous, then the truth will reveal itself to you."

He made it sound so reasonable.

Not an act of rebellion. Not defiance. Just… a way to be sure.

Eleanor was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, she set her untouched tea down.

"That would be reckless."

Zane smiled—just slightly. "Only if you have something to fear."

That Night, in Eleanor's Private Quarters.

Eleanor sat at her desk, her chambers dimly lit by the flickering glow of candlelight. The ledgers from the treasury lay before her, pages filled with unanswered questions.

Zane's words lingered in her mind.

"If you feared nothing, you would have acted already."

"If you doubt them… why not conduct your own investigation?"

She had spent her life believing that the church was an extension of the gods' will. That its walls were sacred, its leaders righteous.

But tonight, for the first time, she questioned if she had been blind.

Her fingers traced the spine of the ledger, hesitation thick in her breath.

Would it be wrong… to look deeper?

Somewhere, unseen, Zane leaned against the cool stone of his chambers, a slow smirk playing on his lips.

A chime echoed in his mind. The system's glow flickered.

[Eleanor Corruption: 7%]

[Progression Reward: "Velvet Whispers"] – Words spoken in a whisper linger in the listener's mind longer than usual.

Zane chuckled under his breath.

The first seed had been planted.

And now… I just need to water it more.

[Time Left: 3 months, 24 days]