Desires & Heresy

The scent of incense still clung to the air as the last murmurs of morning prayer faded into the vast silence of the grand church hall. Flickering candlelight stretched long shadows across the polished stone floor, casting an almost ethereal glow on the gathered priests and priestesses.

Zane stood among them, his hands folded, his expression serene—just another man of God offering his devotion. A convincing illusion.

In truth, his mind was elsewhere.

He wasn't here to pray. He was here to listen.

His amber eyes flicked across the gathered clergy, watching, studying. Every conversation held a potential secret. Every whispered concern, a weakness waiting to be exploited. He had spent days subtly working his way into the church's inner circles, blending in, gaining their trust. A patient hunter in the midst of unsuspecting prey.

And it was working.

He stood beside Father Lucian, a man well past his prime, respected among the priests. The old man had taken a liking to him, speaking freely, assuming Zane was just another young priest eager to learn.

"The High Priestess has been strict with resources lately," Lucian muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Even Aldric has had trouble acquiring certain supplies for his duties."

Zane kept his expression neutral, though his mind sharpened on the name.

Aldric.

Zane didn't need Insight (Lv.1) to know about Celeste's emotions. 

His gaze flicked across the hall, and sure enough, Aldric stood near one of the pillars, his back rigid, his mouth pressed into a firm line. But he wasn't looking at Zane.

He was speaking to Celeste.

Zane didn't react. He didn't change course. Instead, he let the corner of his mouth curl—just slightly.

He already knew how this would end.

So he turned his attention back to Lucian, nodding as if absorbed in the man's words, and walked with him toward the breakfast hall.

Behind him, Celeste's faith was crumbling. And Aldric? He was the one paving the path to her downfall—unwittingly aiding Zane.

"Father Aldric, please, I don't—"

"Sister Celeste," Aldric cut her off, his voice low but firm. "I don't understand why you keep going to him."

Celeste flinched.

"I—I don't keep going to him," she stammered. "He just… he listens."

Aldric's jaw tightened. "And I don't?"

Celeste looked away. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" His voice softened, but the frustration was evident.

Celeste bit her lip. She didn't have an answer.

Aldric exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Celeste, I'm trying to protect you. That man—he doesn't belong here. There's something… off about him."

She should have agreed. She should have affirmed her faith, denied everything. But the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she swallowed, whispered, "I need to go."

Before Aldric could stop her, she turned and walked toward the breakfast hall, leaving his warning behind.

She didn't look back.

The clatter of wooden trays and the murmur of morning conversation filled the church's dining hall. The long tables were lined with priests and priestesses, their quiet voices blending with the occasional flicker of candlelight.

Zane sat near Father Lucian, listening, watching. Gaining ground.

"You must excuse Aldric," Lucian was saying. "He's always been… protective over Sister Celeste."

Zane tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Oh? He seems rather intense."

Lucian chuckled. "That's putting it lightly."

Zane didn't miss the faint note of amusement beneath the words.

"Oh?" he pressed. "He's not always been like this, has he?"

Lucian hesitated, then lowered his voice. "There was a time when Aldric was different. Less… rigid. But something changed after—"

Before he could finish, Lucian straightened, nodding toward the entrance. "Ah. Speak of them, and they appear."

Zane didn't turn immediately. He already knew.

Celeste had arrived.

She moved toward one of the tables, her steps hurried, her posture stiff. She barely touched her food, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. Her mind was elsewhere—he knew exactly where.

Aldric, seated a few places away, was watching her, frustration plain on his face.

Zane exhaled through his nose, amusement curling inside him. He hadn't even done anything.

And yet, Celeste was already breaking.

By nightfall, the small chamber was silent except for the soft rustle of sheets.

Celeste lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her hands gripping the thin blanket over her body.

She had prayed.

Again.

And again.

But no peace came.

Her thoughts were poisoned.

Not by sin.

But by doubt.

By him.

The way he carried himself. The way his gaze lingered, like he knew something she didn't. Like he was waiting for her to realize it too.

Her chest rose and fell, each breath shaky, uneven. She turned onto her side, her full, perky breasts shifting beneath the thin nightgown, the fabric dragging over her stiffening nipples. The gown clung to her small waist, sliding up just enough to tease the soft curve of her hips.

A pulse of warmth coiled low, her thick thighs pressing together, rubbing slightly. The fabric bunched between them, thin and useless against the heat lingering between her legs. She clenched the blanket tighter, her breathing shallow, body tense.

Her breath caught.

She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

Why was she like this?

Why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

Her fingers curled against her mouth, knuckles pressing to her lips as if she could stop the warmth pooling in her stomach. But it only grew, spreading lower, her thighs squeezing tighter, pressing against the soft ache between them. The fabric of her nightgown dragged against her core, a slow, teasing friction between her legs that only made it worse.

It was wrong.

Then why did it feel so… inevitable?

Zane sat in his chambers, fingers tapping lazily against the wooden desk. The candle beside him flickered, casting long shadows over the old parchment-covered table.

His conversation with Lucian had been useful.

Aldric wasn't always like this. He wasn't always a devoted, uptight protector of the church.

There was something in his past.

Something that changed him.

And Zane intended to find out exactly what.

He leaned back, smirking into the dim candlelight.

Oh, Aldric… you were easier to break than I thought.

[HOLY CORRUPTION SYSTEM]

[Celeste Corruption: 65%] - Emotionally attached, questioning faith.

[Progression Reward: +2 Holy Influence]