Exultation
Earning back Velena’s trust takes less time than Callie had expected. At first, it seems as though the Magister had given up on the young Devotia, resigned to let her face the scrutiny of the Imperium without her. But, after another meeting of the great council ended in a scathing condemnation by Magister Xamner, Velena seems to take pity on her.
“Explain it back to me again,” Velena sighs as they sit across from each other on a balcony of her villa. “Verbatim.”
“‘If I am to survive in this role and adequately serve the needs of this city,’” Callie says softly, struggling to remember the exact words, “‘I cannot afford myself the luxuries of jealousy, impulsiveness, or short-sightedness.’”
“Don’t forget ‘petulence,’” Velena prods.
“That wasn’t included when you said it bef-,”
“It’s included now,” the Magister huffs.
Callie resists the temptation to roll her eyes. “‘... of jealousy, impulsiveness, short-sightedness, or petulence.’”
“Good,” Velena folds her arms across her chest, finally seeming mildly satisfied. “And what are your priorities going forward?”
“Figuring out how to comfortably bless people, including non-sexually,” Callie begins a sigh, then stifles it, “And putting aside my feelings for Calvin so I can actually understand the will of Suul. Happy?”
“And being on your best behavior so this Magister doesn’t get herself executed for murdering you,” Velena adds, a grumpy scowl on her face.
“Is that finally enough apologies, Velena?”
Velena purses her lips for a moment, tightening her brow while she thinks. “For now,” she concludes a second later.
“Finally,” Callie stands up, stretching and gazing out over the railing. The city was ablaze with activity, setting up booths and streamers and decorations for the upcoming holiday. “Will you please help me figure out how I’m supposed to survive this party?”
“Holiday,” Velena corrects. “And not just any holiday, one of the most important on the calendar. The Feast of St.-”
“-St. Valvedor,” Callie completes. “Will you help me?”
Velena sighs, “I guess I’ve been harsh enough with you. I’ll help.”
“Thank you,” Callie lets out a tense breath, dropping her torso down to rest against the railing, arms drifting thoughtlessly over the edge.
“I’ve done enough lecturing to you about learning how to play the game,” the Magister says, rising to stand next to her against the railing. “This time, you tell me: what’s your strategy?”
“Most of it should be fine, just standard meet-and-greet, looking happy and friendly and divine or whatever.”
“Easy.”
“Yeah. The real worries I have are the reading of the dial…” She pauses for a moment, then decides to continue. “And Junivere.”
“Why would hal Devotia be an-,”
“You know she’s been getting to me, ever since you called her here.”
“You needed guidance from someone who-,”
Callie groans loudly, “It doesn’t matter. She’s here now and I just have to deal with it. But I can’t handle her flaunting her status around and riling me up.” She looks up at Velena, who wears a face that says she is about to make a snarky comment. “Yeah, yeah, I should get thicker skin or whatever. I know.”
“Correct,” the Magister nods.
“I’m working on it,” Callie waves a hand dismissively, sitting up to meet Velena’s gaze. “The real issue, however, is that my role as Devotia looks compromised if she’s giving out blessings like candy and I’m not. You’ve said it enough, I’m already in precarious waters. If she does that at an event this public, it’ll undermine my authority.”
Typically, blessings were strictly a daytime affair. However, according to Mirabelle, Suul would make exceptions on holidays, especially ones as liturgically significant as the Feast of St. Valvedor. Callie was certain Junivere would wield that against her with an obnoxious self-satisfaction.
Velena is silent for a moment, eyes looking out towards the city below.
“What is it?” Callie asks impatiently.
“Nothing,” Velena smiles lightly. “I am simply remarking to myself that you have actually made a calculated observation. I am proud.”
“Wow, a compliment,” Callie huffs, grinning with her. “That’s a first.”
“So, what do you think we should do, short of asking Junivere to disappear or expecting you to match her ability?”
“I have an idea, I think.”
“I’m eager to hear it,” Velena sits back into her chair, and Callie turns to face her, pressing her hips against the railing and laying her hands on either side.
“We treat this event like my great debut, which it already sorta is. But we lean into it, say that I am in prayer or meditation or something throughout the celebration, and I’ll stay away from the crowds,” Callie’s voice speeds up, feeling proud of herself for assembling a plan. “Just before morning arrives, I’ll emerge from my hiding and read the dial and say something noble or prophetic. Junivere will then join me in front of the crowd,” she feels her pulse quicken slightly and pushes away the teasing thoughts from her mind, “and she will give me a blessing.”
“Interesting,” Velena says quietly.
“Non-sexual, of course,” Callie’s face flushes. “But it would be a way to ensure that I’m not being upstaged all night - my inability to match her blessings is no longer a matter of impotence, it’s a matter of ritual.”
Velena takes in a long breath, thinking for a quiet moment as Callie stares at her.
“What do you think?”
“I am loath to admit it,” the Magister shifts in the chair, folding one leg over another, “but that is actually clever.”
Callie pumps her fist in celebration, letting out a victorious breath. She wonders what Junivere might think of the plan - it's been a few days since they’ve spoken, only passing wordlessly in the villa, and Callie can feel an anxious tension across the home. But another part of her doesn’t care what Junivere will think, simply ecstatic to finally have a strategy that might allow her to push back against her scrutiny.
“You’ll need to figure out what to say at the dial reading,” Velena warns. “You still haven’t heard from Suul?”
“Complete silence,” Callie sighs. “I’m going to talk to the priestesses and see if they can divine for me and come up with something to say regardless.”
“That should work,” the Magister nods. Her eyes take Callie in, studying the growing Devotia carefully. “You’re improving. Slowly.”
“But I am improving,” Callie latches onto her words.
“You are,” Velena smiles.
– – –
Staying away for the entire celebration is harder than Callie had expected. She sits against a column in the villa, crouched up on a railing of the balcony and watching it all from afar. Decorations had been going up for days, but in the two days since she’d strategized with Velena, the city had exploded with life.
Colorful lanterns hung across every open road, swinging in the light breeze and intertwining with vibrant golden ribbons. The streets were packed with carts of food and flowers and special ceremonial candles, growing denser and denser as people arrived from the surrounding areas to celebrate in the capital. Music drifted up from all across the town, even sometimes reaching the lonely balcony of Callie’s lonely villa.
Other than a few protective Knights and a handful of priestesses, most others in the Sun district had left to join the celebration, which began officially at sunset and carried into the evening. Callie wonders what it would be like to join them, to be another random face in a crowd simply allowed to enjoy the delights of the festival. Maybe she’d make a friend, maybe even get to meet Calvin as a regular citizen. Maybe they’d get to dance together, share a kiss under the twinkling lights…
Callie sighs, pulling her knees to her chest and trying to avoid the temptations of fantasy.
According to Willow, the Feast of St. Valvedor was a celebration of Suul’s conquest over the darkness, in whatever forms it took, but especially through love. Callie wondered why it wouldn’t take place on the summer solstice, but apparently there was some liturgical reason to hold it in late spring instead. She wonders if it’s just so they can have a second holiday for the solstice itself.
St. Valvedor, if she ever truly lived, was called by Suul to bring a battle against the night, seeking out any agents of evil and smiting them. If the small statuettes that went up around the city had any truth to them, Valvedor was a burly paladin with a sword almost as long as her entire body and an incredibly heavy-looking set of plate armor. She set out to follow Suul’s calling, even pursuing the darkness deep down into the ground and finding the resting place of Nalathax, a twilight spirit that Suul had apparently banished in the ancient past for her evil deeds.
Supposedly, as Valvedor confronted Nalathax, her heart carried Suul’s light so righteously that the spirit wavered from its attempt to overthrow the sun goddess. Instead, she fell in love with the paladin, and the two of them built a home in the deep caves of the earth, even brightening the underground with golden strands of light to commemorate their union. According to one of the priestesses who Callie didn’t know well, there were even caves somewhere near Tarth that glowed, and people would make pilgrimage there in honor of St. Valvedor.
Callie didn’t care too much for the lore of the holiday, and instead felt captivated by the ways it was celebrated. It was a night dedicated to the unexpected, especially unexpected love and romance and affairs of the heart. Apparently it was fairly commonplace to make wild declarations of love throughout the night, none of which needed to be honored as the morning arrived. Then, as the first rays of sunlight lit up the sky, the Devotia was supposed to read a large sundial at the center of the city, interpreting the initial shadows to speak on behalf of Suul.
Despite talking it over with her friends, hoping their education as priestesses would be helpful, Callie still had no clue what she would say. The interpretations changed wildly from year to year. The prior year, Ellava had apparently announced that there would be a blight on part of the crops in the coming fall, causing some farmers to entirely change their planting schedules. The year before that, she simply interpreted that Suul was pleased with the art that had been devoted to her.
As Callie now sits, overlooking the city that has so quickly become her home, she pushes away the feeling of dread inside of her chest. Soon, she’d make her first appearance in front of the whole city, feeling their devotion, feeling their need for her. If she makes it through to the morning without incident, she would continue to tread water as Devotia. If she makes a mistake… she shudders to think of what the response might be.
She stares down into the city streets, scanning over the rooftops and alleyways and wondering where her friends might be. Calvin was surely on guard duty somewhere or leading a parade of his paladins to demonstrate their might. Velena would be with the Imperium, chatting away with various nobles and ensuring no one would question her seat on the council. She may even be whipping up support for having Xamner removed.
Salome and Mira sounded like they intended to drink and dance and make a mess of themselves, while Willow was off to meet the potter’s apprentice again. Civa mulled about the villa, watching over Callie and occasionally checking to see if she was okay. Callie knew Civa would rather be out enjoying the party, but she had drawn the short stick amongst the bunch, and even though Callie had suggested Civa go anyway, the priestess remained.
Junivere was down there somewhere as well, and as much as Callie hated herself for it, she spent most of her time on the railing of the balcony scanning the city for the golden flash of a blessing. But, with all the lights and activity, Solva was constantly flashing out golden lights and it was impossible to know what had caused them. With each one, Callie could feel her hopes rise sharply and temper quickly, leaving nervous pangs of jealousy to simmer underneath.
When Callie finally feels Civa’s gentle hand nudge her shoulder, she wonders if she’s walking towards the end of her time as Devotia. She doesn’t know what could come next, or how it would end, but somewhere in her gut Callie feels the thought take over.
It’s difficult navigating the streets without being discovered. Civa and Callie wear long cloaks to cover their noticeable robes, and Callie is grateful that her face has not yet become widely known. If anyone recognizes her as the two of them sidestep through the crowd to reach the old cathedral that sits in the center of the city, they keep it to themselves. The priestess and Callie arrive without incident, slipping inside the side door and removing their cloaks.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Civa asks quietly, hoping her voice won’t carry across the loud stone. Outside, they can hear the sounds of laughter and dancing and celebration, and Callie wishes she could just disappear back into the crowd.
“No,” Callie says softly. “I guess I’ll just think up something on the spot. Maybe that the Devotia doesn’t have to do public appearances for the next year.”
Civa smiles, holding Callie’s hand sweetly. “Maybe Suul will speak to you.”
“Maybe,” Callie says, but she sorely doubts it.
She shivers slightly in the cool air of the cathedral, watching as the room brightens slowly as dawn approaches. Civa hugs her gently, flashing her a final reassuring smile before slipping back out of a side door. Callie was to wait for the sound of a bell outside, and then she would emerge to meet Junivere, standing before a crowd of thousands of cheering citizens.
Come on, Suul, Callie feels herself desperately ruminate. What was the point of picking me if you were just going to let me fail miserably?
She paces in front of the main doorway, trying to ignore the feeling that the towering sculpture of Suul in the center of the hall is staring at her.
If I die, she turns to glare at the statue, which depicts a cheery and heavy-set woman with a crown of sun-rays, it’s on you.
The statue doesn’t answer, still staring down at the Devotia with a radiant smile, as though nothing could ever be wrong again. Suul was usually depicted this way, with a loom in one hand and a long strand of golden thread in the other, though occasionally the thread would be replaced with a terrifying sword.
It doesn’t take long. Callie is just beginning to feel her mind spiral into nervousness when the bell peals, ringing out of the highest tower in the cathedral and echoing around her. She knew the sound would carry across the city, pulling the celebration to the central plaza. Those who arrived before it filled up would get to watch as Callie hopefully didn’t make a fool of herself, though she also knew many of them had been waiting hours to see her.
Feeling her heart pound in her chest and her stomach tighten, Callie takes a breath and pushes open the grand doors to the cathedral, strolling out onto a large platform that overlooks the crowd. At its center, a large sundial looms, gently illuminated by the lanterns around them.
Just right of the sundial, Callie looks up to see Junivere’s eyes meet hers. Her fellow Devotia looks excited, though a little tired, clearly drinking up the attention of the cheering crowd before her. She waves a delicate hand towards Callie, calling her forth to stand next to her.
“Hal Solva!” Juivere cries out to the crowd, her voice amplified by a spell being cast from a mage just below the platform. “May I present to you… your Devotia!”
The masses erupt into noise as Callie steps into view. Flower petals rain down across the plaza, blown into the air by groups of mages hidden on the rooftops.
“All night,” Junivere continues, “your Devotia has spent in prayer and meditation, communing with the Great Sun as we braved the darkness around us!” The crowd laughs, drunk on the joys of the long evening.
Callie stands to the side of Junivere, trying to project confidence even as she feels the weight of thousands of eyes upon her. She can hardly contain her nerves as they soak up her appearance, roaring with delight as she gazes down upon them. She turns back to Junivere, awaiting the blessing that will precede the reading, a small part of her hoping the invigorating energy will give her something to say to them.
“And now, as dawn approaches…” Junivere stretches her arms out to the crowd, voice full of pride and theater. Callie prepares to kneel down next to her, hopeful her strategy will pan out the way she needs it to. She knows Junivere must have been lively all evening, and if Callie is to finally compete with her, this ceremony will have to be the beginning of it.
“... Hal Devotia shall stand in the light before you, reading Suul’s will for us all!”
Callie flashes an alarmed glare at Junivere, waving for the mage below not to project her next words. “What are you doing?” She hisses. “You’re supposed to do the blessing first.”
Junivere waves at the mage as well, “I’m not doing that. Just read the dial, Callana.”
“This isn’t what we-,”
“Eyes are on you, remember?” Junivere waves back to the mage below, resuming the spell, “As hal Devotia has just informed me, it is time! Dawn approaches!”
The sky is just barely beginning to brighten towards dawn; the first rays of light illuminating the few clouds and pushing away the stars in the morning sky. For a brief moment, Callie considers giving in and forgetting the blessing. But as she glares at the Devotia beside her, taking in her flowing dress and long legs and silky skin and gleaming eyes, Callie holds fast. Eyes were upon them, and Junivere was as much trapped in that as Callie was.
“Through the evening and midnight and beyond,” Callie begins, sending her voice across the crowd with as much enthusiasm and fanfare as she can and trying to push away the ridiculous feeling in her chest, “I have spent in communion with the Holy Light. As Her newest anointed, She has been eager to see me tread brand new paths for her light to carry across. I must carry the burden of Devotia’s before me, and Devotia’s beside me.”
Callie turns to face Junivere, plastering a bright smile across her face and attempting to stare down the taller woman. “As a newcomer,” Callie continues, “I am able to embrace Suul with a freshness She has much desired. But I cannot carry this burden of her will alone,” she speaks to the crowd, watching as they pull closer to her with each moment, “Hal Solva, you carry it with me!”
The crowd cheers, delighted to be included in her responsibility. They loved her, loved being close to her, loved watching her.
“I am still learning to carry this burden, dear Solva,” Callie’s voice drops softer and the crowd’s volume lowers with her, hanging on her every word. “I cannot trust my strength alone. Suul commands us to share our love with others, to share our strength as She shares Hers with us. As we walk into this next year, I hope you will share your resolve with me.”
Feeling her heart beat in her chest, Callie turns her body to face Junivere once more. Her face flushes with pride, knowing she had the support of the crowd in the palm of her hand. They love the spectacle of her, adore the novelty of their new Devotia. Callie glares at her counterpart, coming to a decision and letting the pettiness inside of her fester.
“Suul has asked of you your blessing, hal Devotia,” she says to Junivere, restraining a smirk, “That I might share in your power to build my own.”
Junivere glares at her, and Callie can feel her frustration boil over. She knew Junivere would take it out on her later, likely making her miserable in a myriad of ways for the coming weeks, but for now, Callie savored the feeling of entraping her in the public eye.
Glancing at the assembled masses before them, Junivere faces Callie with a fire in her eyes. She quietly clenches her fist, facing away from the crowd, and Callie wonders if she is contemplating casting a spell on her. But, a second later, her face softens and returns to the demure of public respectability.
Her eyes shine mischievously, and she announces, “It would be my honor to lend you my strength, hal Devotia.” She steps forward towards Callie, bowing politely and adding, “It is a great privilege to share with you Suul’s blessing.”
Callie’s heart skips as Junivere suddenly closes the gap between them, grabbing her waist in one hand and her neck in the other and pulling her into a deep kiss. Callie feels her body come alive, fluttering with sensation as the Devotia runs her hands across her skin and dress, massaging her slightly.
Her pride melts away as Junivere’s tongue slips its way between her lips, gently circling around her mouth. It flicks across the roof of her mouth, hooking against the back of her teeth, and Callie feels like she is floating as it pulls her closer into her grasp. The crowd fades from her awareness as everything other than Junivere’s presence disappears from her mind.
She feels like putty in the Devotia’s arms, like clay fit only to be felt and sculpted by a master. Her body becomes nothing but a blank canvas for the artist, whose fingertips claw lightly across her skin and send shivers of delight through her. Callie’s chest purrs as the sweet scent of vanilla fills her, Junivere’s short hair tickling against her neck and collarbone.
Inside her mind, Callie feels as though she could fly, as though Junivere had suddenly unlocked the power within her and she weighs nothing in the morning breeze. Her spirit explodes into light, feeling desperation and satisfaction intertwine as two halves of the same emotion, a push and pull that keeps her lips pressed into Junivere as though nothing else could fill the building void inside her.
The Devotia’s lips leave her after what feels like an eternity later and it takes all of Callie’s strength not to remain latched onto her. Junivere places a final kiss on the side of her cheek, just below her ear, and whispers, “Well played, hal Devotia.”
As Junivere steps back, leaving Callie feeling colder and longing for more, her skin is suddenly bathed with light. Bright embers trickle across her and it feels as though lightning courses through her veins. She shudders, reveling in the slightly painful sensation that gently fades into a frenzy of desire. Her eyes gaze up towards Junivere, who looks unmistakably proud, drinking in the wondrous expression on Callie’s face.
As Callie turns to face the sundial behind her, the first blinding light of sunrise pouring over the plaza, she feels her consciousness lurch back inside of her. For a moment, it feels as though someone had pushed aside her own mind, entering her body to borrow it and sending waves of elation to compensate.
“‘Hal Solva,’” Callie’s voice booms across the courtyard, no longer in control, “‘Gaze upon your Devotia and know that I have great plans for them!’”
The crowd falls silent, soaking in the divine presence echoing out of Callie’s body.
“‘Solva has grown, in spirit and in need, and your devotion brings great honor to you. Your devotion deserves recognition,’” Callie feels herself say, consciousness still hovering in the background of her mind, “‘And reward.’”
Passively, Callie can feel as Junivere stares at her, confused and amazed. A wondrous feeling of anticipation consumes the city assembled before them.
“‘I have anointed a new Devotia to preside over Tulla,’” the voice declares, and Junivere’s eyes whip over to Callie, brandishing a rare look of alarm. “‘Just as I shall now anoint a new Devotia to preside over Solva.’”
It is as though all of the sound in the world disappears, replaced only with the terrifying pause of expectation.
“‘Behold!’” The voice concludes, and Junivere suddenly erupts into light alongside Callie, “‘From here forward, Solva shall have two Devotia!’”
The presence leaves Callie, suddenly throwing her back in control of her body. She stumbles, narrowly catching her balance and avoiding dropping from the raised platform. Dizziness overtakes her as her vision narrows and Callie collapses down, exhausted. She looks up at the warming sky, seeing only the stunned eyes of Junivere fill her absent gaze as darkness overtakes her.
– – –
As Callie shakes awake, it is difficult to overcome the heavy weight of her eyelids. She’s exhausted and feels as though her thoughts are moving through syrup just to arrive into her mind, quietly mulling about as her breath escapes her unwieldy lips. A small part of her wonders if she has somehow died in her sleep, but the raised shouts of Junivere’s frustration shakes it away.
Callie sits up, finding herself in a tiny cot in a room somewhere on the second floor of the Cathedral. She thinks it must be where the priestesses who oversee it sleep, but they’re nowhere in sight. Instead, the only others in the room with Callie are Civa, gently kneeling by her side, Valena, leaned up against a wooden support post, and Junivere, standing across from her and venting her frustration.
“-have friends, I have a life there, Velena!” Junivere shouts as Callie stumbles awake. “I can’t just abandon everything I’ve worked to achieve in Tulla!”
“I’m well aware of your-,” the Magister begins patiently, only to be interrupted by a furious Junivere.
“Is this your doing!?”
“How would it be-,”
“Answer the question,” Junivere huffs. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Of course not!” Velena scowls, arms folded tightly across her chest. “I can’t play-act a goddess, obviously.”
“But is this your plan? You called me here in the first place,” the Devotia paces. “Are you attempting to trap me in Solva, trying to gain yet another lever of power to throw whenever you need it?”
“I called you here because Callie needed you,” the Magister’s finger points at Callie, hardly looking at her, “And she does. But you keep antagonizing her!” She sighs, her eyes dripping with irritation. “Maybe this is Suul’s way of telling you to play nice.”
“Callie, are you okay?” Civa’s concerned voice calls silences the others, hands gently holding her shoulders.
Callie nods, swinging her feet over the side of the cot and shaking away her pounding headache. “I’m fine.”
“Everyone out,” Junivere commands.
“I’m not leaving her-,” Civa stops as Junivere’s fingers snap impatiently. She sighs, squeezing Callie’s arm softly. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
“Thanks,” Callie croaks hoarsely.
Civa crosses the room, gently extending a hand to Velena to guide her out as well. The Magister rolls her eyes, taking the priestess’ hand and exiting the room. She slams the door behind them.
“What did you do?” Junivere begins, face seething with accusation. Any goodwill Callie may have earned from playing the game has clearly dissolved.
“I didn’t do any-,”
“Liar,” she huffs, sitting down on a cot across from Callie. “Is this some kind of sick way of getting back at me? A childish prank because I wasn’t coddling you enough?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Callie hisses, groaning slightly as she rubs the knots in her shoulder. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t try to abandon the plan. I thought you’d be impressed that I was starting to strategize!”
“So now it’s my fault?” Junivere jabs a finger, pointing at herself. She scowls. “I never wanted to be here. If you weren’t so pitiful in this role, I would be sitting comfortably in my home where I have my own life, my own city, and an awareness of who exactly is trying to use me or kill me.”
“I didn’t ask you to-”
Junivere holds a hand up threateningly, twirling strands of light in her palm to remind Callie of what she was capable of. “Stop whining.”
“Whining? Whining? You’re the one who’s whining right now,” Callie retorts, trying to feel less childish than it sounded. Junivere is quiet, simply staring at her with fury in her eyes, and something about the look bristled against her own pride. “And what the fuck was that kiss? Why didn’t you just toss out a blessing like you love to do, flaunting them around in my face?”
“Oh you loved it,” Junivere gripes. “I had to pull back to prevent you from moaning in front of the whole city.”
Callie’s face flushes with frustration. She stands, wobbling slightly as her balance recovers, and paces away from Junivere. “I finally hear from Suul and its a fucking punishment.”
“Oh I bet you’ll hate it,” Junivere stands to face her. “You’re dripping with lust everytime you look at me. For all I know, this is everything you’ve been dreaming of.”
“No, it isn’t-,”
Callie feels herself trip as hot cords of magic bind her ankles together. She shrieks, landing onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud as the cords wrap around her legs and arms, binding them together and tightening enough to cause her to gasp.
“What are you-?” Callie begins, but Junivere’s hand twists tightly, sending more ropes to gag her mouth.
“I’m giving you what you want, Callie,” Junivere slowly steps forward, hand spinning to flip the bound Callie onto her back to face her. “You want to play helpless and shy. You want an excuse to not have to fulfill your duties. Well? Here you go!”
Her fingers clench, pulling the cords tight around Callie and stealing away the breath in her lungs. She writhes against the magic, eyes darting to the door and pleading Velena or Civa to charge in.
“Do you think I don’t know a simple noise ward? No one is going to hear you.”
She turns back to face Junivere, cords finally loosening to allow her to breath. She sucks in air hungrily, watching the Devotia’s face light up with satisfaction. Junivere slowly drops down to the floor, crawling so that her body hovers just above Callie’s.
“You want this, don’t you?” She smirks, eyes piercing into Callie’s with a knowing delight. “The first night I was here, I just wanted to get a sense of how you’d react under pressure, a small test. But even then, with you tied up against the column, I could tell you loved it.”
Callie shakes her head quickly, pushing away the bubbling feeling in her stomach. Junivere’s breath cooled against her cheek, gently blowing against the intense warmth that was coursing through her. Her body rocks to the side as Junivere’s hand cracks across her face, leaving a stinging mark on her cheek. Her nails grip Callie’s chin, tilting her head up to meet Junivere’s eyes.
“And then,” the Devotia continues, leaning her face in closer, “I brought the handsome Knight-Commander to come see me.” Her eyes lap up the jealousy that pangs in Callie’s expression. “Don’t worry, we only talked. He told me all about your first two meetings. He’s so loyal to Devotia, isn’t he?”
Callie feels her chest tighten from shame and relief. She hated the feeling of Calvin sharing intimate details with her, but at least it was better than the alternative. She hopes he had the care to not tell Junivere she’s threaded.
“You like to serve, don’t you, Callana?” Junivere prods, grinning with satisfaction. “You like watching people enjoy you.” Callie is silent, and Junivere adds, “Tell me.”
Callie thinks about resisting, but as Junivere’s hands press her down into the floor and send terrifying shivers of excitement through her, she abandons it. She nods slowly.
“Good girl,” Junivere smiles. Callie hates herself for the glimmer of pride that splashed through her. Her breath extends, letting out a long exhale as the Devotia watches her.
“Then you’ll get your chance to serve me,” Junivere grins. “If I am going to be stuck here with you,” she warns, “things are going to be different. You are going to know your place.”
Her hand drops to Callie’s waist, gripping it tightly and pulling Callie’s stomach up to meet hers. “Tell me you’ll obey.”
Callie pauses, a shrinking part of her mind trying to figure out an escape. But, as the cords tighten slightly and Junivere’s teeth lightly bite her neck, pulling a stifled moan from her lips, Callie feels the fight leave her. Underneath her dress, covered by the cords of light, she feels her clit harden with expectation. She nods.
As Junivere’s lips press into her neck, hand gently unfurling the cords around her lap, Callie feels the pangs of alarm inside her head be pushed aside in place of rapture. She knows she is supposed to be afraid of something, but as Junivere’s hands lift up her skirt and squeeze her thighs, it becomes difficult to think of anything else. She succumbs to the intoxicating aura of Junivere, gives in to the mages’ desire to put Callie into a place of submission.
She feels her mind race into the skies again, throwing aside any feeling that wasn’t this. Callie’s pride collapses, giving up the hope that the dreams she’d had were a fluke, that they somehow didn’t mean anything to her.
Callie is so lost in the feeling of submission, she hardly registers when Junivere’s hand flattens against her erection, stopping suddenly. The mage looks up at Callie, eyes wide with confusion, then shock, then something else Callie can’t read.
Junivere sits up quickly, her body rolling off of Callie. She stands, waving away the magic that holds Callie in restraint and scrambles out of the room, leaving Callie alone to slowly realize what her rival now knew.
Exultation
Earning back Velena’s trust takes less time than Callie had expected. At first, it seems as though the Magister had given up on the young Devotia, resigned to let her face the scrutiny of the Imperium without her. But, after another meeting of the great council ended in a scathing condemnation by Magister Xamner, Velena seems to take pity on her.
“Explain it back to me again,” Velena sighs as they sit across from each other on a balcony of her villa. “Verbatim.”
“‘If I am to survive in this role and adequately serve the needs of this city,’” Callie says softly, struggling to remember the exact words, “‘I cannot afford myself the luxuries of jealousy, impulsiveness, or short-sightedness.’”
“Don’t forget ‘petulence,’” Velena prods.
“That wasn’t included when you said it bef-,”
“It’s included now,” the Magister huffs.
Callie resists the temptation to roll her eyes. “‘... of jealousy, impulsiveness, short-sightedness, or petulence.’”
“Good,” Velena folds her arms across her chest, finally seeming mildly satisfied. “And what are your priorities going forward?”
“Figuring out how to comfortably bless people, including non-sexually,” Callie begins a sigh, then stifles it, “And putting aside my feelings for Calvin so I can actually understand the will of Suul. Happy?”
“And being on your best behavior so this Magister doesn’t get herself executed for murdering you,” Velena adds, a grumpy scowl on her face.
“Is that finally enough apologies, Velena?”
Velena purses her lips for a moment, tightening her brow while she thinks. “For now,” she concludes a second later.
“Finally,” Callie stands up, stretching and gazing out over the railing. The city was ablaze with activity, setting up booths and streamers and decorations for the upcoming holiday. “Will you please help me figure out how I’m supposed to survive this party?”
“Holiday,” Velena corrects. “And not just any holiday, one of the most important on the calendar. The Feast of St.-”
“-St. Valvedor,” Callie completes. “Will you help me?”
Velena sighs, “I guess I’ve been harsh enough with you. I’ll help.”
“Thank you,” Callie lets out a tense breath, dropping her torso down to rest against the railing, arms drifting thoughtlessly over the edge.
“I’ve done enough lecturing to you about learning how to play the game,” the Magister says, rising to stand next to her against the railing. “This time, you tell me: what’s your strategy?”
“Most of it should be fine, just standard meet-and-greet, looking happy and friendly and divine or whatever.”
“Easy.”
“Yeah. The real worries I have are the reading of the dial…” She pauses for a moment, then decides to continue. “And Junivere.”
“Why would hal Devotia be an-,”
“You know she’s been getting to me, ever since you called her here.”
“You needed guidance from someone who-,”
Callie groans loudly, “It doesn’t matter. She’s here now and I just have to deal with it. But I can’t handle her flaunting her status around and riling me up.” She looks up at Velena, who wears a face that says she is about to make a snarky comment. “Yeah, yeah, I should get thicker skin or whatever. I know.”
“Correct,” the Magister nods.
“I’m working on it,” Callie waves a hand dismissively, sitting up to meet Velena’s gaze. “The real issue, however, is that my role as Devotia looks compromised if she’s giving out blessings like candy and I’m not. You’ve said it enough, I’m already in precarious waters. If she does that at an event this public, it’ll undermine my authority.”
Typically, blessings were strictly a daytime affair. However, according to Mirabelle, Suul would make exceptions on holidays, especially ones as liturgically significant as the Feast of St. Valvedor. Callie was certain Junivere would wield that against her with an obnoxious self-satisfaction.
Velena is silent for a moment, eyes looking out towards the city below.
“What is it?” Callie asks impatiently.
“Nothing,” Velena smiles lightly. “I am simply remarking to myself that you have actually made a calculated observation. I am proud.”
“Wow, a compliment,” Callie huffs, grinning with her. “That’s a first.”
“So, what do you think we should do, short of asking Junivere to disappear or expecting you to match her ability?”
“I have an idea, I think.”
“I’m eager to hear it,” Velena sits back into her chair, and Callie turns to face her, pressing her hips against the railing and laying her hands on either side.
“We treat this event like my great debut, which it already sorta is. But we lean into it, say that I am in prayer or meditation or something throughout the celebration, and I’ll stay away from the crowds,” Callie’s voice speeds up, feeling proud of herself for assembling a plan. “Just before morning arrives, I’ll emerge from my hiding and read the dial and say something noble or prophetic. Junivere will then join me in front of the crowd,” she feels her pulse quicken slightly and pushes away the teasing thoughts from her mind, “and she will give me a blessing.”
“Interesting,” Velena says quietly.
“Non-sexual, of course,” Callie’s face flushes. “But it would be a way to ensure that I’m not being upstaged all night - my inability to match her blessings is no longer a matter of impotence, it’s a matter of ritual.”
Velena takes in a long breath, thinking for a quiet moment as Callie stares at her.
“What do you think?”
“I am loath to admit it,” the Magister shifts in the chair, folding one leg over another, “but that is actually clever.”
Callie pumps her fist in celebration, letting out a victorious breath. She wonders what Junivere might think of the plan - it's been a few days since they’ve spoken, only passing wordlessly in the villa, and Callie can feel an anxious tension across the home. But another part of her doesn’t care what Junivere will think, simply ecstatic to finally have a strategy that might allow her to push back against her scrutiny.
“You’ll need to figure out what to say at the dial reading,” Velena warns. “You still haven’t heard from Suul?”
“Complete silence,” Callie sighs. “I’m going to talk to the priestesses and see if they can divine for me and come up with something to say regardless.”
“That should work,” the Magister nods. Her eyes take Callie in, studying the growing Devotia carefully. “You’re improving. Slowly.”
“But I am improving,” Callie latches onto her words.
“You are,” Velena smiles.
– – –
Staying away for the entire celebration is harder than Callie had expected. She sits against a column in the villa, crouched up on a railing of the balcony and watching it all from afar. Decorations had been going up for days, but in the two days since she’d strategized with Velena, the city had exploded with life.
Colorful lanterns hung across every open road, swinging in the light breeze and intertwining with vibrant golden ribbons. The streets were packed with carts of food and flowers and special ceremonial candles, growing denser and denser as people arrived from the surrounding areas to celebrate in the capital. Music drifted up from all across the town, even sometimes reaching the lonely balcony of Callie’s lonely villa.
Other than a few protective Knights and a handful of priestesses, most others in the Sun district had left to join the celebration, which began officially at sunset and carried into the evening. Callie wonders what it would be like to join them, to be another random face in a crowd simply allowed to enjoy the delights of the festival. Maybe she’d make a friend, maybe even get to meet Calvin as a regular citizen. Maybe they’d get to dance together, share a kiss under the twinkling lights…
Callie sighs, pulling her knees to her chest and trying to avoid the temptations of fantasy.
According to Willow, the Feast of St. Valvedor was a celebration of Suul’s conquest over the darkness, in whatever forms it took, but especially through love. Callie wondered why it wouldn’t take place on the summer solstice, but apparently there was some liturgical reason to hold it in late spring instead. She wonders if it’s just so they can have a second holiday for the solstice itself.
St. Valvedor, if she ever truly lived, was called by Suul to bring a battle against the night, seeking out any agents of evil and smiting them. If the small statuettes that went up around the city had any truth to them, Valvedor was a burly paladin with a sword almost as long as her entire body and an incredibly heavy-looking set of plate armor. She set out to follow Suul’s calling, even pursuing the darkness deep down into the ground and finding the resting place of Nalathax, a twilight spirit that Suul had apparently banished in the ancient past for her evil deeds.
Supposedly, as Valvedor confronted Nalathax, her heart carried Suul’s light so righteously that the spirit wavered from its attempt to overthrow the sun goddess. Instead, she fell in love with the paladin, and the two of them built a home in the deep caves of the earth, even brightening the underground with golden strands of light to commemorate their union. According to one of the priestesses who Callie didn’t know well, there were even caves somewhere near Tarth that glowed, and people would make pilgrimage there in honor of St. Valvedor.
Callie didn’t care too much for the lore of the holiday, and instead felt captivated by the ways it was celebrated. It was a night dedicated to the unexpected, especially unexpected love and romance and affairs of the heart. Apparently it was fairly commonplace to make wild declarations of love throughout the night, none of which needed to be honored as the morning arrived. Then, as the first rays of sunlight lit up the sky, the Devotia was supposed to read a large sundial at the center of the city, interpreting the initial shadows to speak on behalf of Suul.
Despite talking it over with her friends, hoping their education as priestesses would be helpful, Callie still had no clue what she would say. The interpretations changed wildly from year to year. The prior year, Ellava had apparently announced that there would be a blight on part of the crops in the coming fall, causing some farmers to entirely change their planting schedules. The year before that, she simply interpreted that Suul was pleased with the art that had been devoted to her.
As Callie now sits, overlooking the city that has so quickly become her home, she pushes away the feeling of dread inside of her chest. Soon, she’d make her first appearance in front of the whole city, feeling their devotion, feeling their need for her. If she makes it through to the morning without incident, she would continue to tread water as Devotia. If she makes a mistake… she shudders to think of what the response might be.
She stares down into the city streets, scanning over the rooftops and alleyways and wondering where her friends might be. Calvin was surely on guard duty somewhere or leading a parade of his paladins to demonstrate their might. Velena would be with the Imperium, chatting away with various nobles and ensuring no one would question her seat on the council. She may even be whipping up support for having Xamner removed.
Salome and Mira sounded like they intended to drink and dance and make a mess of themselves, while Willow was off to meet the potter’s apprentice again. Civa mulled about the villa, watching over Callie and occasionally checking to see if she was okay. Callie knew Civa would rather be out enjoying the party, but she had drawn the short stick amongst the bunch, and even though Callie had suggested Civa go anyway, the priestess remained.
Junivere was down there somewhere as well, and as much as Callie hated herself for it, she spent most of her time on the railing of the balcony scanning the city for the golden flash of a blessing. But, with all the lights and activity, Solva was constantly flashing out golden lights and it was impossible to know what had caused them. With each one, Callie could feel her hopes rise sharply and temper quickly, leaving nervous pangs of jealousy to simmer underneath.
When Callie finally feels Civa’s gentle hand nudge her shoulder, she wonders if she’s walking towards the end of her time as Devotia. She doesn’t know what could come next, or how it would end, but somewhere in her gut Callie feels the thought take over.
It’s difficult navigating the streets without being discovered. Civa and Callie wear long cloaks to cover their noticeable robes, and Callie is grateful that her face has not yet become widely known. If anyone recognizes her as the two of them sidestep through the crowd to reach the old cathedral that sits in the center of the city, they keep it to themselves. The priestess and Callie arrive without incident, slipping inside the side door and removing their cloaks.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Civa asks quietly, hoping her voice won’t carry across the loud stone. Outside, they can hear the sounds of laughter and dancing and celebration, and Callie wishes she could just disappear back into the crowd.
“No,” Callie says softly. “I guess I’ll just think up something on the spot. Maybe that the Devotia doesn’t have to do public appearances for the next year.”
Civa smiles, holding Callie’s hand sweetly. “Maybe Suul will speak to you.”
“Maybe,” Callie says, but she sorely doubts it.
She shivers slightly in the cool air of the cathedral, watching as the room brightens slowly as dawn approaches. Civa hugs her gently, flashing her a final reassuring smile before slipping back out of a side door. Callie was to wait for the sound of a bell outside, and then she would emerge to meet Junivere, standing before a crowd of thousands of cheering citizens.
Come on, Suul, Callie feels herself desperately ruminate. What was the point of picking me if you were just going to let me fail miserably?
She paces in front of the main doorway, trying to ignore the feeling that the towering sculpture of Suul in the center of the hall is staring at her.
If I die, she turns to glare at the statue, which depicts a cheery and heavy-set woman with a crown of sun-rays, it’s on you.
The statue doesn’t answer, still staring down at the Devotia with a radiant smile, as though nothing could ever be wrong again. Suul was usually depicted this way, with a loom in one hand and a long strand of golden thread in the other, though occasionally the thread would be replaced with a terrifying sword.
It doesn’t take long. Callie is just beginning to feel her mind spiral into nervousness when the bell peals, ringing out of the highest tower in the cathedral and echoing around her. She knew the sound would carry across the city, pulling the celebration to the central plaza. Those who arrived before it filled up would get to watch as Callie hopefully didn’t make a fool of herself, though she also knew many of them had been waiting hours to see her.
Feeling her heart pound in her chest and her stomach tighten, Callie takes a breath and pushes open the grand doors to the cathedral, strolling out onto a large platform that overlooks the crowd. At its center, a large sundial looms, gently illuminated by the lanterns around them.
Just right of the sundial, Callie looks up to see Junivere’s eyes meet hers. Her fellow Devotia looks excited, though a little tired, clearly drinking up the attention of the cheering crowd before her. She waves a delicate hand towards Callie, calling her forth to stand next to her.
“Hal Solva!” Juivere cries out to the crowd, her voice amplified by a spell being cast from a mage just below the platform. “May I present to you… your Devotia!”
The masses erupt into noise as Callie steps into view. Flower petals rain down across the plaza, blown into the air by groups of mages hidden on the rooftops.
“All night,” Junivere continues, “your Devotia has spent in prayer and meditation, communing with the Great Sun as we braved the darkness around us!” The crowd laughs, drunk on the joys of the long evening.
Callie stands to the side of Junivere, trying to project confidence even as she feels the weight of thousands of eyes upon her. She can hardly contain her nerves as they soak up her appearance, roaring with delight as she gazes down upon them. She turns back to Junivere, awaiting the blessing that will precede the reading, a small part of her hoping the invigorating energy will give her something to say to them.
“And now, as dawn approaches…” Junivere stretches her arms out to the crowd, voice full of pride and theater. Callie prepares to kneel down next to her, hopeful her strategy will pan out the way she needs it to. She knows Junivere must have been lively all evening, and if Callie is to finally compete with her, this ceremony will have to be the beginning of it.
“... Hal Devotia shall stand in the light before you, reading Suul’s will for us all!”
Callie flashes an alarmed glare at Junivere, waving for the mage below not to project her next words. “What are you doing?” She hisses. “You’re supposed to do the blessing first.”
Junivere waves at the mage as well, “I’m not doing that. Just read the dial, Callana.”
“This isn’t what we-,”
“Eyes are on you, remember?” Junivere waves back to the mage below, resuming the spell, “As hal Devotia has just informed me, it is time! Dawn approaches!”
The sky is just barely beginning to brighten towards dawn; the first rays of light illuminating the few clouds and pushing away the stars in the morning sky. For a brief moment, Callie considers giving in and forgetting the blessing. But as she glares at the Devotia beside her, taking in her flowing dress and long legs and silky skin and gleaming eyes, Callie holds fast. Eyes were upon them, and Junivere was as much trapped in that as Callie was.
“Through the evening and midnight and beyond,” Callie begins, sending her voice across the crowd with as much enthusiasm and fanfare as she can and trying to push away the ridiculous feeling in her chest, “I have spent in communion with the Holy Light. As Her newest anointed, She has been eager to see me tread brand new paths for her light to carry across. I must carry the burden of Devotia’s before me, and Devotia’s beside me.”
Callie turns to face Junivere, plastering a bright smile across her face and attempting to stare down the taller woman. “As a newcomer,” Callie continues, “I am able to embrace Suul with a freshness She has much desired. But I cannot carry this burden of her will alone,” she speaks to the crowd, watching as they pull closer to her with each moment, “Hal Solva, you carry it with me!”
The crowd cheers, delighted to be included in her responsibility. They loved her, loved being close to her, loved watching her.
“I am still learning to carry this burden, dear Solva,” Callie’s voice drops softer and the crowd’s volume lowers with her, hanging on her every word. “I cannot trust my strength alone. Suul commands us to share our love with others, to share our strength as She shares Hers with us. As we walk into this next year, I hope you will share your resolve with me.”
Feeling her heart beat in her chest, Callie turns her body to face Junivere once more. Her face flushes with pride, knowing she had the support of the crowd in the palm of her hand. They love the spectacle of her, adore the novelty of their new Devotia. Callie glares at her counterpart, coming to a decision and letting the pettiness inside of her fester.
“Suul has asked of you your blessing, hal Devotia,” she says to Junivere, restraining a smirk, “That I might share in your power to build my own.”
Junivere glares at her, and Callie can feel her frustration boil over. She knew Junivere would take it out on her later, likely making her miserable in a myriad of ways for the coming weeks, but for now, Callie savored the feeling of entraping her in the public eye.
Glancing at the assembled masses before them, Junivere faces Callie with a fire in her eyes. She quietly clenches her fist, facing away from the crowd, and Callie wonders if she is contemplating casting a spell on her. But, a second later, her face softens and returns to the demure of public respectability.
Her eyes shine mischievously, and she announces, “It would be my honor to lend you my strength, hal Devotia.” She steps forward towards Callie, bowing politely and adding, “It is a great privilege to share with you Suul’s blessing.”
Callie’s heart skips as Junivere suddenly closes the gap between them, grabbing her waist in one hand and her neck in the other and pulling her into a deep kiss. Callie feels her body come alive, fluttering with sensation as the Devotia runs her hands across her skin and dress, massaging her slightly.
Her pride melts away as Junivere’s tongue slips its way between her lips, gently circling around her mouth. It flicks across the roof of her mouth, hooking against the back of her teeth, and Callie feels like she is floating as it pulls her closer into her grasp. The crowd fades from her awareness as everything other than Junivere’s presence disappears from her mind.
She feels like putty in the Devotia’s arms, like clay fit only to be felt and sculpted by a master. Her body becomes nothing but a blank canvas for the artist, whose fingertips claw lightly across her skin and send shivers of delight through her. Callie’s chest purrs as the sweet scent of vanilla fills her, Junivere’s short hair tickling against her neck and collarbone.
Inside her mind, Callie feels as though she could fly, as though Junivere had suddenly unlocked the power within her and she weighs nothing in the morning breeze. Her spirit explodes into light, feeling desperation and satisfaction intertwine as two halves of the same emotion, a push and pull that keeps her lips pressed into Junivere as though nothing else could fill the building void inside her.
The Devotia’s lips leave her after what feels like an eternity later and it takes all of Callie’s strength not to remain latched onto her. Junivere places a final kiss on the side of her cheek, just below her ear, and whispers, “Well played, hal Devotia.”
As Junivere steps back, leaving Callie feeling colder and longing for more, her skin is suddenly bathed with light. Bright embers trickle across her and it feels as though lightning courses through her veins. She shudders, reveling in the slightly painful sensation that gently fades into a frenzy of desire. Her eyes gaze up towards Junivere, who looks unmistakably proud, drinking in the wondrous expression on Callie’s face.
As Callie turns to face the sundial behind her, the first blinding light of sunrise pouring over the plaza, she feels her consciousness lurch back inside of her. For a moment, it feels as though someone had pushed aside her own mind, entering her body to borrow it and sending waves of elation to compensate.
“‘Hal Solva,’” Callie’s voice booms across the courtyard, no longer in control, “‘Gaze upon your Devotia and know that I have great plans for them!’”
The crowd falls silent, soaking in the divine presence echoing out of Callie’s body.
“‘Solva has grown, in spirit and in need, and your devotion brings great honor to you. Your devotion deserves recognition,’” Callie feels herself say, consciousness still hovering in the background of her mind, “‘And reward.’”
Passively, Callie can feel as Junivere stares at her, confused and amazed. A wondrous feeling of anticipation consumes the city assembled before them.
“‘I have anointed a new Devotia to preside over Tulla,’” the voice declares, and Junivere’s eyes whip over to Callie, brandishing a rare look of alarm. “‘Just as I shall now anoint a new Devotia to preside over Solva.’”
It is as though all of the sound in the world disappears, replaced only with the terrifying pause of expectation.
“‘Behold!’” The voice concludes, and Junivere suddenly erupts into light alongside Callie, “‘From here forward, Solva shall have two Devotia!’”
The presence leaves Callie, suddenly throwing her back in control of her body. She stumbles, narrowly catching her balance and avoiding dropping from the raised platform. Dizziness overtakes her as her vision narrows and Callie collapses down, exhausted. She looks up at the warming sky, seeing only the stunned eyes of Junivere fill her absent gaze as darkness overtakes her.
– – –
As Callie shakes awake, it is difficult to overcome the heavy weight of her eyelids. She’s exhausted and feels as though her thoughts are moving through syrup just to arrive into her mind, quietly mulling about as her breath escapes her unwieldy lips. A small part of her wonders if she has somehow died in her sleep, but the raised shouts of Junivere’s frustration shakes it away.
Callie sits up, finding herself in a tiny cot in a room somewhere on the second floor of the Cathedral. She thinks it must be where the priestesses who oversee it sleep, but they’re nowhere in sight. Instead, the only others in the room with Callie are Civa, gently kneeling by her side, Valena, leaned up against a wooden support post, and Junivere, standing across from her and venting her frustration.
“-have friends, I have a life there, Velena!” Junivere shouts as Callie stumbles awake. “I can’t just abandon everything I’ve worked to achieve in Tulla!”
“I’m well aware of your-,” the Magister begins patiently, only to be interrupted by a furious Junivere.
“Is this your doing!?”
“How would it be-,”
“Answer the question,” Junivere huffs. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Of course not!” Velena scowls, arms folded tightly across her chest. “I can’t play-act a goddess, obviously.”
“But is this your plan? You called me here in the first place,” the Devotia paces. “Are you attempting to trap me in Solva, trying to gain yet another lever of power to throw whenever you need it?”
“I called you here because Callie needed you,” the Magister’s finger points at Callie, hardly looking at her, “And she does. But you keep antagonizing her!” She sighs, her eyes dripping with irritation. “Maybe this is Suul’s way of telling you to play nice.”
“Callie, are you okay?” Civa’s concerned voice calls silences the others, hands gently holding her shoulders.
Callie nods, swinging her feet over the side of the cot and shaking away her pounding headache. “I’m fine.”
“Everyone out,” Junivere commands.
“I’m not leaving her-,” Civa stops as Junivere’s fingers snap impatiently. She sighs, squeezing Callie’s arm softly. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”
“Thanks,” Callie croaks hoarsely.
Civa crosses the room, gently extending a hand to Velena to guide her out as well. The Magister rolls her eyes, taking the priestess’ hand and exiting the room. She slams the door behind them.
“What did you do?” Junivere begins, face seething with accusation. Any goodwill Callie may have earned from playing the game has clearly dissolved.
“I didn’t do any-,”
“Liar,” she huffs, sitting down on a cot across from Callie. “Is this some kind of sick way of getting back at me? A childish prank because I wasn’t coddling you enough?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Callie hisses, groaning slightly as she rubs the knots in her shoulder. “Maybe it wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t try to abandon the plan. I thought you’d be impressed that I was starting to strategize!”
“So now it’s my fault?” Junivere jabs a finger, pointing at herself. She scowls. “I never wanted to be here. If you weren’t so pitiful in this role, I would be sitting comfortably in my home where I have my own life, my own city, and an awareness of who exactly is trying to use me or kill me.”
“I didn’t ask you to-”
Junivere holds a hand up threateningly, twirling strands of light in her palm to remind Callie of what she was capable of. “Stop whining.”
“Whining? Whining? You’re the one who’s whining right now,” Callie retorts, trying to feel less childish than it sounded. Junivere is quiet, simply staring at her with fury in her eyes, and something about the look bristled against her own pride. “And what the fuck was that kiss? Why didn’t you just toss out a blessing like you love to do, flaunting them around in my face?”
“Oh you loved it,” Junivere gripes. “I had to pull back to prevent you from moaning in front of the whole city.”
Callie’s face flushes with frustration. She stands, wobbling slightly as her balance recovers, and paces away from Junivere. “I finally hear from Suul and its a fucking punishment.”
“Oh I bet you’ll hate it,” Junivere stands to face her. “You’re dripping with lust everytime you look at me. For all I know, this is everything you’ve been dreaming of.”
“No, it isn’t-,”
Callie feels herself trip as hot cords of magic bind her ankles together. She shrieks, landing onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud as the cords wrap around her legs and arms, binding them together and tightening enough to cause her to gasp.
“What are you-?” Callie begins, but Junivere’s hand twists tightly, sending more ropes to gag her mouth.
“I’m giving you what you want, Callie,” Junivere slowly steps forward, hand spinning to flip the bound Callie onto her back to face her. “You want to play helpless and shy. You want an excuse to not have to fulfill your duties. Well? Here you go!”
Her fingers clench, pulling the cords tight around Callie and stealing away the breath in her lungs. She writhes against the magic, eyes darting to the door and pleading Velena or Civa to charge in.
“Do you think I don’t know a simple noise ward? No one is going to hear you.”
She turns back to face Junivere, cords finally loosening to allow her to breath. She sucks in air hungrily, watching the Devotia’s face light up with satisfaction. Junivere slowly drops down to the floor, crawling so that her body hovers just above Callie’s.
“You want this, don’t you?” She smirks, eyes piercing into Callie’s with a knowing delight. “The first night I was here, I just wanted to get a sense of how you’d react under pressure, a small test. But even then, with you tied up against the column, I could tell you loved it.”
Callie shakes her head quickly, pushing away the bubbling feeling in her stomach. Junivere’s breath cooled against her cheek, gently blowing against the intense warmth that was coursing through her. Her body rocks to the side as Junivere’s hand cracks across her face, leaving a stinging mark on her cheek. Her nails grip Callie’s chin, tilting her head up to meet Junivere’s eyes.
“And then,” the Devotia continues, leaning her face in closer, “I brought the handsome Knight-Commander to come see me.” Her eyes lap up the jealousy that pangs in Callie’s expression. “Don’t worry, we only talked. He told me all about your first two meetings. He’s so loyal to Devotia, isn’t he?”
Callie feels her chest tighten from shame and relief. She hated the feeling of Calvin sharing intimate details with her, but at least it was better than the alternative. She hopes he had the care to not tell Junivere she’s threaded.
“You like to serve, don’t you, Callana?” Junivere prods, grinning with satisfaction. “You like watching people enjoy you.” Callie is silent, and Junivere adds, “Tell me.”
Callie thinks about resisting, but as Junivere’s hands press her down into the floor and send terrifying shivers of excitement through her, she abandons it. She nods slowly.
“Good girl,” Junivere smiles. Callie hates herself for the glimmer of pride that splashed through her. Her breath extends, letting out a long exhale as the Devotia watches her.
“Then you’ll get your chance to serve me,” Junivere grins. “If I am going to be stuck here with you,” she warns, “things are going to be different. You are going to know your place.”
Her hand drops to Callie’s waist, gripping it tightly and pulling Callie’s stomach up to meet hers. “Tell me you’ll obey.”
Callie pauses, a shrinking part of her mind trying to figure out an escape. But, as the cords tighten slightly and Junivere’s teeth lightly bite her neck, pulling a stifled moan from her lips, Callie feels the fight leave her. Underneath her dress, covered by the cords of light, she feels her clit harden with expectation. She nods.
As Junivere’s lips press into her neck, hand gently unfurling the cords around her lap, Callie feels the pangs of alarm inside her head be pushed aside in place of rapture. She knows she is supposed to be afraid of something, but as Junivere’s hands lift up her skirt and squeeze her thighs, it becomes difficult to think of anything else. She succumbs to the intoxicating aura of Junivere, gives in to the mages’ desire to put Callie into a place of submission.
She feels her mind race into the skies again, throwing aside any feeling that wasn’t this. Callie’s pride collapses, giving up the hope that the dreams she’d had were a fluke, that they somehow didn’t mean anything to her.
Callie is so lost in the feeling of submission, she hardly registers when Junivere’s hand flattens against her erection, stopping suddenly. The mage looks up at Callie, eyes wide with confusion, then shock, then something else Callie can’t read.
Junivere sits up quickly, her body rolling off of Callie. She stands, waving away the magic that holds Callie in restraint and scrambles out of the room, leaving Callie alone to slowly realize what her rival now knew.
