As Nentonia sat down on her bed, the door opened and Kalaman came in.

“That was quick,” Nentonia said. “I just got here. Were you following me this entire time?”

“You told me to follow. So I did,” he replied, closing the door behind him.

A few moments ago, the two of them were at the upper deck, and Kalaman told her his entire past, who he used to be before he became the Dragonslayer. Nentonia found that her suspicions were right. Kalaman was running away from his sins.

And now, as she promised, she was going to lay herself bare to him as well.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Kal?” Nentonia said.

“...Do not call me that,” he said, but the tone in his voice sounded softer than usual.

Still, Nentonia ignored him and scooted over, making space for him to sit on, and gestured for him to sit down next to her. After giving a small sigh, Kalaman walked forward and sat down, their thighs almost touching.

The two of them sat there in silence for a moment. Nentonia thought about where she’d start her story, but she would sometimes get lost in that silence. The ship’s rocking against the waves used to make her ill, but now it was relaxing. The sound of the wood creaking made the ship sound vulnerable and brittle, but even that was calming to listen to. Moreover, just sitting next to him made her heart lighter.

“I used to live in an orphanage...” she started. “...though how I got there and what kind of life I had there isn’t very important. I was just your regular orphan, raised to be a priestess. But there was this girl I knew while I was there. Jaysie was her name.” She turned her head to look at Kalaman, who stared at her with attentive eyes. “She was the first person I ever loved.”

Kalaman’s eyes twitched slightly. Was it jealousy in them? Nentonia found it cute. Yet he didn’t say a word and kept listening. He really wanted to know more about her, and that made her happy.

Nentonia continued. “I grew up with her as a fellow orphan, but I couldn’t really see her as a sister. Granted, neither of us were ever normal children. In any case, I loved her, and she loved me. I loved her ... and I killed her.”

Nentonia could still feel the shape of her neck on her palms. She remembered the warmth of her skin, and she remembered how it faded slowly. She didn’t let go even after she stopped moving. Only after she went completely cold did she stand up.

“It was horrible, you know?” she said, laughing. “It was awful to see her die like that. It hurt so much to realize that I’d never be able to talk to her again. It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside.”

“...Then why did you do it?” he asked.

“Precisely because of that,” she replied, hanging her head down, not wanting to meet his face. “It hurt. It was an agonizing experience to go through, and I ... I just couldn’t stop. The more I did it, the more unbearable it was, and the more addictive it became. It was ecstatic to see the person I loved the most die like that ... and it was even more ecstatic to put myself through that kind of anguish. Ridiculous, right? But that’s who I am. That’s always what I’ve been since I was born. I can enjoy normal things, I think. But in the end, to me, pain is the ultimate pleasure.”

She raised her head and laughed. “Funny, isn’t it? A cleric that likes pain. But I don’t think I can help it. I was born this way, after all.”

There was a long and unbearable silence as she waited for Kalaman’s response. She was afraid of getting pushed away, like everyone else did. Jaysie had accepted her, but would it be the same for him? Suddenly, at the eleventh hour, all the confidence she had was crumbling. Suddenly, she was the same scared little girl from back then.

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Finally, he spoke.

“Is that why you were avoiding me?”

Nentonia nodded. “With Jaysie, I lost control over myself. She said it was okay, but she’s gone now because of me. I was afraid of the same thing happening again.”

“...I see,” he said, and then he was silent again.

Nentonia looked at his face, his expression. They were as still and motionless as always, betraying no emotion from within him. What was he thinking about? What is he going to say? Just imagining it filled her with anxiety.

“When we reach Tisah, I’ll leave the party,” Nentonia said before he could say anything. He looked at her, his face tinged with confusion and shock. “I’ll leave without telling you, and we can forget each other as we go our separate ways. It’ll be a clean departure...”

“...But?” Kalaman asked, noticing her hesitation.

“But then I got to know you more. And I realized that maybe, just maybe, we could complete each other.” Nentonia said to him, placing her hand on his leg for support as she leaned closer. “The one thing you want more than anything else is to be punished, right? And the only thing I want is to experience that pain I felt before again. Do you see where I’m getting at here? We’re both missing something inside us, and our entire lives, we’ve been running from it. Here, and now, is the one moment that the two of us could be completed. I think the gods let us meet for this one purpose alone.”

“...Only pain can complete us,” he spoke, echoing the words she said to him back then.

In response, she smiled. It seemed he finally got it. “I’m still scared, Kal. I still want to run away. I’m sure you do, too. That’s why ... I want us to trap each other.”

“Trap each other?”

“Mm. I want to complete you. I want you to complete me. I don’t want to do this without your say in it. Well, not that I can, even if I wanted to.” She chuckled, and reached out to grasp his hand. She stared directly into his eyes, inching her face closer and closer to him. “Will you let me?”

Her heart raced. She had laid herself bare in front of him, and she waited for his reaction. She exposed herself and the one thing she desired, the thing that made even the benevolent sisters of the temple shun her.

She world has no place for Nentonia Brava the false cleric. Even her last name, a symbol of honor for the clerics of Helm, was stolen. She did not deserve it.

Yet she prayed, more so than any other priestess, that she would find a place to belong, if only it was for a moment.

...Kalaman said nothing. His eyes were wide open, his mouth slightly agape. He didn’t know what to say. There were no words, no confirmation or affirmation.

A single second stretched into eternity.

And there was no answer.

“...I see,” Nentonia chuckled weakly.

Of course. Not many people would choose that path. She gave him time to think about it. She was trying to prepare him for this moment, maybe since they first met. She wanted it to be him. But maybe Jaysie was a one-and-done deal, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And maybe this was for the best. After all, an addiction may not develop if you’ve only ever done it once. Maybe in time, she’d forget this feeling, and she’d stop chasing after it. She can be satisfied with cuts and hot stoves.

She lowered her gaze and pulled herself away.

Then, Kalaman grabbed her head and pulled her towards him, sealing their lips together. It happened so fast that she didn’t have time to breath. Suddenly, she was experiencing something she had only heard about from others. The sensation of melting. Her veins burn up. She felt like her entire body was on fire. She tries to push herself away and give herself time to calm down, but he wraps his other arm around her and pulled her in; that despite their faces being already close enough to touch, he still wants her to be closer.

She is dissolving like sugar on water in his embrace. His tongue enters her, devouring her, demanding more. Before she knew it, her hands stopped trying to push him away and were desperately clinging to him, and it took her a while to realize she was already kissing him back.

Their bodies gave in, and the two of them fell on the bed, him on top of her. Their faces pulled apart, and they stared into each other’s eyes. Gone was his stoic visage, the face of the unflappable hero. All she saw was a worried expression of a man desperate to hold on to her. His eyes held so much emotion now that it’s unthinkable to believe he was the same man she’s been with this entire time. And she didn’t have any doubts that her face was the same.

Their breaths were shallow and ragged. Nentonia was so happy that it felt like her hearts was going to burst out of her chest. She could feel how desperate he was, how afraid he was. Right now, he was no Dragonslayer. He was no hero. He was simply Kalaman. He might’ve had his hesitations over this relationship she was bestowing upon him, but one thing was clear: he didn’t want to let her go.

And neither did she.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you really sure about this?” she asked. “Can you really give me what I want?”

“I’ll give you more than you want,” he replied. “I’ll satisfy you for the rest of your life.”

She smiled, and let herself be addicted one more time. There were no more words that needed to be said.

She pulled him close, and they melted into each other’s warmth.