Desires & Heresy

The Hall of Inquiry was silent, the weight of unspoken words pressing against the stone walls. Candles flickered in their iron holders, casting long shadows over the gathered priests and priestesses seated in the semi-circle of judgment. At the center stood Aldric, his posture rigid, his expression one of barely restrained fury.

Zane stood opposite him, hands clasped, his face a perfect mask of calm.

Aldric's voice cut through the quiet.

Aldric's voice cut through the quiet, steady but edged with frustration. "I stand before you today not out of personal grievance, but because I have witnessed firsthand the harm being done. I can no longer turn a blind eye to the corruption festering within these sacred halls."

Murmurs stirred among the clergy.

"He is deceptive," Aldric continued, pointing directly at Zane. "He whispers poison into the ears of the innocent, twisting their faith, leading them astray. He has set his sights on Sister Celeste, drawing her away from her devotion."

At the mention of Celeste's name, Zane remained still, his expression unreadable.

"She has changed," Aldric pressed on. "She no longer finds peace in prayer. She—" His voice faltered just for a moment, jaw clenching. "She avoids me. And I know why."

His words held conviction, but his frustration was too raw, too personal.

Zane could feel the subtle shift in the room—the older priests exchanged cautious glances, unsure whether this was a matter of spiritual concern or Aldric's own emotions clouding his judgment.

Then, Father Lucian finally spoke. "These are serious accusations, Father Aldric."

"They are the truth," Aldric insisted.

Lucian turned his gaze to Zane. "Do you have anything to say, Father Elias?"

Zane exhaled slowly. He didn't need to argue, didn't need to defend himself with force. Instead, he lifted his gaze, letting his voice settle into something composed, measured—controlled.

"I understand Brother Aldric's concerns," Zane said, voice smooth, unwavering. "And I do not blame him for his worries. We are all guardians of faith, after all."

A few of the priests nodded slightly at his words.

"I only ask this," he continued, activating [Eloquence (Lv.1)]. His voice carried more weight now, every word sinking in just a little deeper. "Would it not be unwise to cast judgment so swiftly? To assume malice where there is none?"

Silence.

Lucian rubbed his beard, then sighed. "We will continue this discussion tomorrow."

Aldric's fists clenched at his sides, but he could do nothing.

For tonight, Zane had won.

The dim corridors were quiet as Zane walked alongside Father Lucian. The older man looked troubled, shaking his head.

"I never thought Aldric would go this far," Lucian murmured. "He's always been… steadfast, but this?"

Zane played the role of the understanding listener perfectly. "He is passionate in his beliefs. I cannot fault him for that."

Lucian sighed. "Perhaps. But I fear his emotions are clouding his wisdom."

Before Zane could respond, a soft voice interrupted.

"Father Elias…"

Beatrice.

She approached hesitantly, her usual composure slightly shaken. "I wanted to apologize. I believe Aldric somehow discovered I had spoken of his past."

Zane offered a small, reassuring smile. "It is not your fault."

She nodded, but guilt lingered in her gaze.

Zane placed a hand over his chest, his expression sincere. "The gods watch over us. If I have sinned, then I shall accept my punishment when it comes."

Lucian gave him a long, searching look before nodding.

Late Night 

Zane sat in his chamber, the heavy tome of religious scripture open before him. His eyes skimmed the ancient text, though his mind was elsewhere—strategizing, waiting.

Then—a knock.

He didn't move immediately, simply tilting his head toward the door. Soft, hesitant.

Then, a voice.

"Father Elias…"

Celeste.

Zane let a small smirk curl at the edges of his lips before smoothing his expression into something neutral. He closed the book, rising to his feet.

When he opened the door, Celeste stood there, bathed in candlelight.

Her silver braid had come slightly loose, strands of hair falling around her flushed face. But it was her eyes that caught his attention—wide, worried, searching.

"I just heard what happened," she whispered, stepping forward without invitation. "I wasn't in the church today—I was out tending to the poor, and no one told me until now."

Zane watched as her delicate hands reached for his, wrapping around his fingers. Warm. Soft. Small against his own—but with a grip that was surprisingly firm, as if she feared he might slip away.

For the first time, she touched him first.

His gaze flickered downward. She was trembling. Not just in her hands—but in the subtle quiver of her chest, the faint press of her thighs as if bracing herself.

"You shouldn't be here at this hour, Sister," he murmured, though he made no move to pull away.

She ignored the warning. "I had to see you."

Her grip tightened slightly, her fingertips pressing into his skin. She was holding onto him, seeking comfort, but unconsciously, her body followed—leaning closer, her full, perky breasts brushing against his forearm in a fleeting touch.

"They shouldn't accuse you like this. You've only ever been kind, patient…" She swallowed, voice quieter. "Understanding."

Zane lifted his free hand, letting his thumb trace the edge of her knuckles.

[Gentle Persuasion (Activated)]

She inhaled sharply, but didn't pull away.

He stepped closer, just enough for her body to react instinctively—a subtle sway toward him, the way her breath hitched when the warmth between them shrank. Her nightgown shifted with her movement, the fabric clinging to the small curve of her waist, molding to the softness of her hips.

Zane tilted his head. "You worry for me, Celeste?"

She nodded, her lips parting, uncertain. Vulnerable.

He reached out, trailing his fingers along her jawline, tilting her face toward him. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, her pulse fluttering beneath his touch. She exhaled shakily, the delicate swell of her chest rising and falling faster now, the thin fabric doing little to hide how her body responded to his presence.

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her breath unsteady.

"You shouldn't." His voice dipped lower, intimate. "I am exactly where I need to be."

Celeste exhaled softly, her lips parting just enough to betray the thought she dared not voice.

She was too close now, too caught in the moment to think.

Then—he stopped.

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering just long enough to make her ache for more. Her lashes fluttered, her body hesitating, the unspoken need lingering between them.

Then, softly, "It's late, Celeste. You should return to your chambers."

She hesitated. He could see it in her eyes—the desire to stay, the craving for something she still couldn't name.

But logic won.

Reluctantly, she stepped back, nodding. "Yes… you're right."

She turned to leave, her movements slower than before, as if waiting—hoping—he would stop her.

Pausing at the door, her fingers curled against the frame. A breath. A moment of indecision. Then, she glanced back once more.

The look in her eyes wasn't just worry anymore. It was something deeper. Needier.

And then, she was gone.

Zane exhaled, his smirk returning.

Tonight, he had taken another piece of her.

And tomorrow—

[New Mission: Remove Aldric (Threat)]

[Reward: Ecstasy's Embrace] - Prolonged skin contact sends escalating waves of pleasure, leaving the target lost in bliss and craving more.

—he would take down Aldric.

[Celeste Corruption: 88%]

[Progression Reward: +4 Holy Influence]