Celameth was glad that Klarric had come to her. She had given up on everything: her love, her faith, her reason for being. The only thing she needed to give up on was her life. Then, when she was at her lowest, about to be devoured by the nothingness he came. He alone protected her from the void of nothingness.

It was his presence, his warm, loving presence, which anchored her to something larger than herself.

Even though she had seen and felt Alis in here, she only felt his presence. His presence was much larger and warmer than Aggard’s had ever been. His presence was more precious to her than any gift Alis or Aggard had ever given her.

There was also a depth to his presence, a depth which Alis and Aggard lacked.

He spent time with her, focused upon her, gave her a strength to keep on living. In return, she shared some secrets which she believed she would never share.

When she was forced from that destructive void, it was Klarric’s warmth which guided her back into her body. This crude building, constructed simply of wood, was not worthy for someone of Klarric’s standing. Even the worst of Aggard’s temples she had ever seen held more grandeur and importance than this place.

And this small confining cabin was the whole of not one but two divine being’s realm. It was not right. Celameth believed it was also not right that Klarric should have to share his holy place with that of another deity. A deity which seemed so hostile to him.

So when she saw that wondrous pure white marble shrine, complete with a statue which showed Klarric’s true strength, she was both overawed and angry. Overawed as, for once, she saw that he was starting to take his power seriously. Anger coming from the fact that even in such a cramped shrine he had to share space with that other deity.

Even when that other deity used her divine power to quell her, she remained strong and steadfast, knowing that her true faith and strength sprung forth from Klarric himself. A deity who was loving and cared for her. Cared for her in such a way that no other deity had before.

The old gods and goddesses had abandoned everyone.

Aggard, the only one to remain, had only wanted to use her.

Alis was trying to use Klarric to make herself seem stronger.

Klarric, and only Klarric, had ever truly been there for her. He was the only one worth worshipping.

And now he was telling her he wanted her to be intimate with him, as if they were a married couple.

Just how could she presume to even think about standing next to him? Yet he cared enough for her to give her a role to play. Something to do now that everything else in her life had been ripped away. Klarric was sacrificing some of his own precious being so she could have some stability.

Aggard had forced her to leave everything behind, even her own heart and desires to oversee the final stand of her race. Instead, she had been forced to flee. Watching in agony from afar as those she had sworn to protect died needlessly as they attempted, in vain, to halt the destruction of all they held dear.

She lived.

They died.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

She had even given her body over to Aggard, not once, but twice. She was prepared to become a bitch in heat just to follow the divine will of Aggard. But Aggard abandoned her.

It was Klarric who saved her.

It was he who stopped her soul from being destroyed in that void which Alis trapped her in.

It was he who brought her safely out of that void.

It was he who helped her reclaim her body.

And now: it was he who helped her reclaim some purpose.

She was to be his wife.

It would be hard to love him, as she had once done so. But she remembered just how it felt back then, when he had been merely a human. She was confident that she could act well enough to fulfil this role he had granted her. For this was not the first role she had played.

Celameth dared not look at Klarric because she had yet to perfect the role she had been given. Still, she needed to verbally accept said role.

‘If it is your will, I shall endeavour to do it. My Lord.’

With that one final bit of devotion, she accepted her role. All she needed to do now was to find out just how to hide her feelings. Hide the feelings which were so overpowering. Hiding them would be best. But she knew strong feelings would always come out. So maybe it would be best to use her true feelings to enhance the role she was required to carry out.

‘Celameth, listen,’ Klarric said to her.

Now she forced herself to look at him.

He was kneeling in front of her, so close she could smell his divine manly musk with a hint of spring flowers. Even his smell was that of rebirth and new growth. She felt herself become flush. His perfect visage and presence easily obliterated her weak commitment to enhance her mock feelings with her true feelings.

‘We don’t want anyone to know just what we are, okay. There may be some to whom we tell the truth. As of yet, we are unsure of just who we can trust.’

That meant that he could trust her.

Klarric trusted her.

Normally, she would bow down and accept the divine command on bent knees. But she was to act as if she were his wife. Just how would a wife act in this situation?

Most spouses would either share a strange kind of look, or do something about getting into closer physical contact. Ah, but how did she act in the past, during those few months when they lived together?

That was it.

Casual touching: shoulders bumping together; hands rubbing, and maybe catching; foreheads touching; smiles; laughs.

Never hugs.

Never kisses.

She put her arms over his shoulders and went to kiss him.

No, that was sacrilegious.

That was too far.

Instead, she opted for the safer option of resting her forehead upon his.

Still, his response was pleasant: some strain leached from his body, and his arms wrapped around her waist.

Pleasant and terrifying.