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No one knew where the priest and the sister had come from.
The priest was young, with the lingering traces of boyhood still on his face. The sister who accompanied him was taciturn yet gentle, and the people of the rural town readily accepted them. Even those without faith were glad to see the long-abandoned sanctuary repaired and restored to its proper purpose, no longer left as a desolate hangout.
That evening, the two had traveled to a small high school. They had been requested to lead the twice-monthly evening prayers for some time now. In the chapel, which had become a mere formality since the sanctuary was deserted, a long-forgotten anthem praising the Dragon God now echoed solemnly.
"High Priest, a moment in the office, please... regarding next month's donations."
Just as the ritual of prayer concluded, the vice principal peeked into the sanctuary’s preparation room. Answering that he would be right there, the priest turned to the sister.
"I will return shortly, so please wait for me here."
The sister nodded. Left alone, he remained seated, looking around the room. Though designated as a preparation room, it seemed to be used only on the days they visited; it was stark and flavorless, containing nothing but a single folding table and two folding chairs.
As a profound sense of unease settled over him, there came another knock at the door.
"...Would you mind listening to a dilemma of mine?"
Stepping hesitantly into the room was a student.
"The High Priest has just stepped out... If you could wait a little longer—"
"No, Sister. It’s you I want to speak with."
The student sat in the chair the priest had occupied only moments ago, facing the sister. Finding the child's tense, stiff expression nostalgic, the sister straightened his posture.
Just as the priest returned from the office and reached the preparation room, the student emerged from the door. The boy looked back into the room, bowed, and exchanged two or three words with a smile. Upon noticing the priest, the student offered a silent, slight nod before passing by.
"I have returned, Sister."
"Ah. Then let us return to the sanctuary."
The priest noticed that the chair, which should have been tucked neatly beneath the table when he left, was now slightly askew.
"What was that child about?"
"He came to consult me about a quarrel with a friend. I urged him to wait for you, High Priest, but he insisted that I would suffice."
"Hmm," the priest murmured with an indifferent grunt, picking up his things and setting off. The sister followed behind him as they left the high school.
The sanctuary had indeed been repaired, but only to a bare minimum. The mortar walls were crumbling in places, and the thick vines clinging to the building could not be entirely removed.
The sun, now on the verge of sinking, cast a blinding glare through the rose window above the main entrance. Heavy light also streamed into the lantern tower positioned over the nave, but because the vines blocking the skylight had not been cleared, it likely did little to brighten the interior.
From the moment they left the preparation room until now, the priest had remained entirely silent.
Proceeding through the great hall, the priest finally turned to face the sister before the altar. Sensing danger in the silent priest, a visible tremor of anxiety passed through the sister, as if he were terrified of what might be said.
"Leaving you alone in that preparation room was a mistake. To think that a student would come to that room today, of all days..."
Until now, the only people who ever appeared in that room were teachers delivering next month's schedule or reports on donations. No one had ever deliberately sat down to have a long, intimate conversation.
Filled with bitter regret, the priest ascended the altar and placed the book he held onto the lectern.
"Come here."
With eyes full of bewilderment and anxiety, the sister stepped closer to the altar. The priest took the sister’s hand, his gaze sweeping over the standing figure without a shred of modesty. Though the simple wimple and black habit shrouded his skin, it was obvious to anyone that the sister possessed an incredibly trim, alluring waist and what must be beautifully long legs. Precisely because almost all of his skin was hidden, the slight glimpse of his supple, verdant hands and his sculpted, melancholy features exuded a breathtaking, fragrant allure.
"I don't want anyone else’s eyes to touch you... Truthfully, I don't want you leaving this sanctuary at all. No—not even the room where we sleep."
The priest pulled the sister’s waist flush against him, and the sister complied without resistance. But when the priest moved to seal his lips, the sister resisted for the very first time. Unlike the priest, who believed in no such thing as the Dragon God, the sister possessed a genuine faith. Within the sanctuary, before the very altar where the Dragon God was said to dwell, he could not bear to engage in such acts.
That displeased the priest.
"No matter how much time passes, I can never truly steal you away from the Dragon God, can I? Even when I beg for you, your heart still keeps its vow of chastity to the Dragon."
"...Do not speak of it that way."
While his faith was absolute, the affection the sister harbored for the priest was equally real. He always felt torn apart between these two incompatible devotions, and the resulting bewilderment only made his expression look all the more provocative, driving the priest mad.
"Why do you doubt me so much? Why must you be so anxious?"
"Then do not resist me. If you hold even a shred of affection for me, let me believe in you."
The priest captured the sister’s lips once more. For a split second, the sister’s hand rose, but it did not press against the priest's chest to stop him. After a moment of hesitation, his arm wound around the priest’s back instead.
The priest’s tongue parted the sister’s soft lips, invading his mouth. He tangled ruthlessly with the tongue that tried to respond. Slithering and crawling inside, stripping away the sister's resistance with sheer pleasure, the priest was the very image of the evil dragon—the one said to have banished humanity from the high heavens of the Dragon God.
The priest had pined for the sister for so long; though their beginning had been somewhat forced, he had held this body countless times and knew it intimately. Even a celibate sister could be aroused without effort. Stealing his breath, the priest's hand traced the center of his body over the fabric of the habit. The sister’s shoulders trembled. From a weak, frustrating pleasure, a throbbing ache woke deep within his loins.
His breath ragged and his body burning, the sister stood clinging desperately to the priest—only for the priest to suddenly, coldly push him away. Left leaning weakly against the prayer bench, the sister was subjected to a chilling voice.
"Do you want the rest?"
"..."
"Kneel, and swear it. If you have feelings for me, swear that your affection is eternal."
The sister lifted his face, looking into the priest's eyes that gleamed dully in the dim sanctuary. And behind him, he saw the ancient mosaic depicting the blessing of the Dragon’s messenger.
"Swear it," the priest demanded imperiously. His words were forceful, but beneath them, his heart felt as fragile and desperate as an abandoned child... The sister could see right through him.
Straightening his disheveled habit, the sister dropped to his knees upon the floor and unfastened his amulet.
"For as long as my life endures... I swear to keep pouring my unchanging affection upon you, High Priest... to the Dragon God... no, to you... my Priest."
The priest stepped down from the altar, pinning the sister flat against the floor. The sister no longer offered any resistance. But clutching the unfastened amulet tightly in his fist, he prayed for only one thing: that the soul of this faithless priest might somehow be saved.