CHAPTER 35

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Gella confidently said as she ran a brush through Celia’s hair in long, even strokes. “You haven’t missed a single cue in the rehearsals, and you have your oath memorized.”

Gella’s confidence didn’t do much to still the butterflies in Celia’s stomach. In just a few hours she would stop being Celia Evergleam, sworn member of the Ravenswood Company – and instead become Dame Celia Evergleam, bound knight of House Sadran. Along with the veritable horde of nervous fluttering, though, excitement and pride and joy all fought for their place in Celia’s mind.

The past week had seen her strength gradually recover. Aside from fleeting moments of consciousness, she had slept through the first few days. Lauren’s careful use of magic had seen her awake for longer and longer stretches – until yesterday, when she and Gella had both agreed she was well enough to leave what Celia had learned was Gella’s parents’ house.

Meeting Lady Sadran had been a very, very strange experience. It only took a single glance at Anastasia Sadran to see just where Gella had inherited her silver hair and commanding demeanor. The older woman carried herself with such grace – and was such a force of will – that the world as a whole seemed to bend around it. The moment she learned that Celia was to be house Sadran’s first bound knight, she hadn’t wasted a moment in organizing a celebration for the event.

A celebration that now was only hours away, Celia reminded herself. “Can we go over the oath again?” She asked hopefully, making sure to keep still while Gella fussed with her hair.

“Go ahead, if it will stop you from worrying,” Gella said, graciously.

Looking at her own reflection, Celia smiled at herself. She could do this. Taking a deep, calming breath, she began with “I, Celia Evergleam, before the eyes of the First Councilor and House Sadran, do swear fealty to the nation of Adampor. I vow to serve with every drop of my blood and every bit of my strength. May this vow bind me, from this day until the day I die.” When she finished, she grinned proudly at the words.

Gella tapped Celia once on each shoulder with her hairbrush. “The first Counselor will tap you like this with his blade, and then say Rise, Dame Evergleam, knight of Adampor.”

Even the playful mock taps sent little reverberations of anticipation through the warrior. “Then I’ll face you and say I, Celia Evergleam, knight of Adampor, bind myself to you and your house as a bound knight. To serve at your pleasure and carry your standard. My strength and my body – my whole being, I entrust to you,” Celia finished, savoring the feeling of accomplishment. In just a few hours, it would be real.

“Then I will place your blade in your hand and finish with I accept your service, Dame Evergleam. From this day forth, you are bound to me and my house.” Placing the hairbrush on the vanity, the mage brushed her fingers over Celia’s forehead while softly muttering, “dèan mo chomharra.”

Now that Celia was listening for it, she could easily distinguish the power lacing the words of Gella’s spell. The strength of it and the meaning remained tantalizingly elusive, but – at least for this spell – guesswork wasn’t needed. The same runic Mark that adorned Violet’s forehead in pulsing purple light now appeared on Celia’s. In contrast to the elven maid’s, the light faded quickly, only leaving behind a green and silver Mark on the warrior’s forehead.

“It’s beautiful,” Celia said happily, admiring how the Mark looked on her. It sat just above her eyebrows, front and center on her forehead. The colors were rich and deep, giving the Mark the appearance of a high quality tattoo.

“You wear it well,” Gella said softly in her ear. “And you spoke the oath perfectly, as I knew you would.”

The anxious flutter in her stomach momentarily lessened, and Celia turned to look at Gella. Giving her a soft smile, the warrior leaned forward to kiss the mage. It was light and quick, just enough to let both women enjoy the touch of the other’s lips. Lifting her hand, Celia let the light in the room catch on her bracelet. “Is it too late to change my mind about this?” Seeing the mildly confused look on Gella’s face, Celia quickly shook her head. “Not about being yours!” She swiftly corrected. “Gods above, no – I love that! I mean about how you track me.”

Gella’s warm, commanding smile returned, and her fingers trailed down over the bracelet. “It’s simply an enchanted bit of jewelry. I could remove it, if you had something else in mind?” She asked with a knowing smirk.

Seeing that smirk sent a warm, pleasant tingle down Celia’s spine. Gella had to know, or at least probably suspected what she was going to ask. A tiny part of her wanted to call the mage on it, but it was a mere hint of a flicker of rebellion. A flicker that was smothered completely by only a few moments spent gazing into Gella’s deep gray eyes. “I love the bracelet,” she began. “I would even wear your collar again if you wanted!” She said with more eagerness in her voice than she intended. She pushed past the gentle heat that rose because of her little mistake, and tapped the magical Mark on her forehead. “But I really want you to mark me with that magical ink.”

Gella’s eyebrow rose while her smirk turned into an appreciative smile. “I admit, the thought of decorating your lovely body with my personal sigil is appealing.” Her soft fingers moved away from the bracelet, traced up the sleeve of Celia’s robe, and finally stopped at the neckline of the blue garment. For a moment, Celia hoped that Gella would tease the fabric away from her body, but the mage just simply revealed a small portion of the warrior’s bare shoulder. “Alright, my lovely knight, but it will have to wait until we get home,” Gella promised. Glancing at the clock on the opposite wall, Gella urged Celia to stand. “But for now, we need to finish getting you ready.”

Celia nodded, pushing back the enticing images her imagination supplied. She had to focus on the present, on playing the perfect part for Gella – which was much easier said than done when Gella slipped Celia’s robe off. Celia knew it was just to get her ready, but it still made a little gasp escape her lips.

“My Pretty Kitty was quite insistent that I tell you that your armor would only work if you were naked underneath,” Gella said casually, openly glancing up and down Celia’s body. Moving to a nearby table, she retrieved a few pieces of sky blue fabric. One of them was similar to that wonderful supporting garment Gella and Violet had introduced her to for her breasts. And as Gella slipped it over Celia’s head and fitted it around her chest, the warrior could feel this version of it had even more support to it. “Though, personally, I think covering up a little is better than being completely naked,” Gella playfully added as she knelt down and slipped the other article – a matching pair of panties – up Celia’s legs.

For a moment Celia felt the mage’s breath on her slit, and her excitement again manifested as a sigh. Gella wasn’t being sensual with her – if anything, the mage was treating the warrior more like a mannequin at the moment. That didn’t stop her imagination from leaping back to when Lauren had done nearly the same with her, and lovingly bound Celia’s mind to let her be the pinkette’s perfect model. Gella stood, leaving the pair of panties that clung just a little tighter to Celia’s body than usual.

Taking Celia by the hand, the mage led her to a full-length mirror, and Celia had to admit that she loved how she looked. Her hair was brushed back into a shimmering curtain, leaving her forehead bare, save for Gella’s already fading Mark still on full display. Her blue eyes sparkled with happiness and the tight blue underwear set off how strong and healthy she looked. “Summon your armor, my beautiful knight,” Gella commanded as she took a step back.

Reaching into the chilly magical nowhere her ring offered, Celia spoke the command word. The countless metal pieces crawled swiftly over her body, interlocking into one skintight and protective whole. When her vision cleared, Celia was left looking at the reflection of a knight like none she had ever seen.

Gella had added coloring to her armor. The metal now had highlights of vibrant green and shimmering silver along the more heavily-armored chest, her shoulders, and in sweeping lines on her helmet. “You look fantastic, Celia,” Gella said approvingly. She came in close, and deftly fastened a belt and sheath around her waist as she continued with, “Your sword is being polished as we speak – for when I gift it back to you during the ceremony.”

Suddenly thankful for the protection – and privacy – her helmet offered, Celia sighed a little more heavily at that. Gella was right, of course. Her own blade was going to be gifted back to her, subject to Gella’s control just as any other part of Celia would be. The heat returned, simmering lightly along her nerves and spurred on by just how much she was surrendering to Gella.

Dismissing the helmet with a thought, she turned and took Gella’s hands into her own. Thanks to the magical material, it felt like they were separated by no more than thin gloves, and the heat from Gella’s hands easily transferred to her own. A kernel of fear – worry about just what she was giving up – slowly began coiling around Celia’s heart. Needing a distraction, she found the comforting, powerful look in Gella’s eyes, and let herself sink into it.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” Gella said, carefully but firmly. One hand lifted to stroke along Celia’s cheek while the other looped around her armored waist, pulling her into a loose embrace.

Celia felt Gella’s gaze pin her, piercing through her in a way that felt incredibly intimate and comfortable. Like the mage could see right through to her soul. “Happy, mostly,” she admitted, knowing it to be true. “I’m nervous and excited – but… also a little scared.”

Gella nodded slowly, letting Celia continue to fall unhindered into her gaze. “What are you scared about?”

“How much of me you’ll control,” Celia said easily. The words didn’t get caught or hung up, not while she was staring placidly into Gella’s beautiful eyes.

“Not will – do,” the mage calmly replied. “You are mine, Celia –all of you.” Celia found herself nodding along, a tiny smile on her lips. It felt good to hear it, far beyond what the little kernel of fear could affect. “There will be times you get worried – even scared – about what I will do with you,” she said, wisdom and experience evident in her voice. “And that’s understandable. I’ll always help you understand – help you obey. And I’ll never hold it against you when you need that help,” she finished with affection and certainty.

It was amazing, Celia reflected, that Gella could so easily calm her down. Just looking into her eyes helped so much. They weren’t magic, at least not in the same way as Aversa’s eyes were. They didn’t swamp her mind in lust, or bind her will. They just promised love and understanding. “Thank you,” she said softly.

With a nod, Gella broke eye contact. The obligations of the day returned, but the anxiety and fear remained minimal, tiny wisps next to the calm and composure Gella had induced in the warrior. “I have some paperwork to handle,” Gella regretfully said, keeping her hands in Celia’s as she spoke. “You should enjoy yourself with the girls – walk around the city, maybe? Violet has been here before, she can guide you around.”

“Won’t that leave you without anyone to protect you?” Celia asked,uneasily. Gella was a competent mage and swordswoman of course, but leaving the woman alone seemed… wrong to her.

“I adore that you worry about that, my champion,” Gella said warmly, sending a tremor of joy racing down Celia’s nerves. “But the capital is easily one of the safest cities on all of Eitheris. I’ll be fine,” she said, leading Celia toward the door of the dressing room. “When you hear the bells chime five, come back here. Until then, enjoy yourself.”

Stepping out into the hallway, the pair shared a last brief kiss before Gella turned and headed down the hallway, and Celia went just two rooms in the other direction. The large building was something like a theater, she reasoned. Anastasia had insisted on something big and impressive, and neither Celia nor Gella had had the mind or the ability to dissuade her.

It was certainly grand. The polished floor rang out like a bell with every step until the sound was suddenly swallowed up by long stretches of plush red carpet. Magical lighting was everywhere, providing little more than ambiance compared to the large windows that flooded the space with sunlight. It was so different from Remere's restrained practicality. Here in Adampor, it seemed that they went for the grand and showy as a rule.

That included the sitting room she stepped into. The ceiling was high and vaulted, the windows were decorated with some kind of intricate ironwork, and even the comfortable-looking furniture had a hard-to-describe richness to it. Not that Celia was able to concentrate on the furnishing when she suddenly had a lovely priestess’ arms around her waist, and her lips on her own.

It was a tender kiss, slow and sweet – only broken with a warm smile, so Lauren could take a step back to admire the warrior. “Oh! You look amazing in Mistress’ colors.”

“You don’t look bad either, Lauren,” Celia said earnestly. The priestess had forgone her clerical robes in favor of an elegant dress in silver and green. It was demure and modest, but still flattered the woman wonderfully. “Hells, you’ve never looked better.”

“Thank you!” Lauren replied, happily. “Lady Anastasia had one made for each of us. Only…” She turned and gave a little sigh at Tabby, who was sitting on the couch with a frown on her face, and her arms folded tightly across her bare chest.

“It’s too much!” Tabby protested instantly, shooting a glare at the dress that was innocently hanging from a peg on the wall.

“We’ve been trying to coax her into at least trying it on before rejecting it,” Violet calmly said. The elven woman was seated primly on the opposite couch, looking immaculate in her own green and silver dress, the shape subtly shifted to accommodate the taller woman. “But so far she is being a stubborn alley cat,” Violet shot toward her sister Treasure with a cool smirk.

“Am not!” Tabby hissed back, ears angled forward. “I’m just not used to pretending I have a stick rammed up my ass like you do!”

Watching the elf and beastkin snipe at each other from across the room, Celia sighed and looked at Lauren. “Have they been at this long?”

“About an hour,” Lauren replied with a slightly weary-sounding sigh. “We didn’t want to bother Mistress with it or anything, though,” she said with a happy nod to Celia. “Not when she was with you.”

Wrapping an affectionate arm around Lauren’s waist, Celia returned the nod. “She wanted me to come over and spend some time with you all while she fills out paperwork.”

“Perfect!” Tabby exclaimed, leaping up and walking over to Celia. “I can think of lots of ways to spend time that require zero uncomfortable dresses.” Slipping in on Celia’s other side, the cat-girl wrapped her tail around Celia’s leg. “Or pretty armor,” she added, running her finger down the smooth metal that covered Celia’s stomach.

“Our Lady didn’t spend all of that time taking care of Celia, only to have her show up at her own ceremony looking like she just tumbled out of bed, Tabby,” Violet interjected, rising and walking over to join them. The cool look on her face warmed considerably when she looked at Celia. “I agree with Lauren as well. Silver and green suit you magnificently.”

“Thank you,” Celia said, opening her arms and pulling her sister Treasures in for a hug. The animosity between Tabby and Violet momentarily forgotten, all four women eagerly shared the hug for a long moment.

“I still don’t want to wear the dumb thing though,” Tabby grumbled after they broke apart.

“We have some time before you really need to put it on,” Celia soothed. “Gella suggested that we all go see the city while we have the chance?”

Tabby looked thoughtful for a moment, then bounded to an open truck pushed against one of the walls. Rummaging inside, she produced a white dress that contrasted wonderfully against her tawny skin. “This isn’t too bad,” she relented, slipping it over her naked body.

It ended mid-calf, and from just the few movements Tabby made, Celia could tell that the dress was one slight updraft away from displaying everything about her body. Not that the cat-girl seemed to mind in the slightest as she bounced around.

“Don’t tell me all of Amourot is fine with people going around nearly naked?” Celia asked incredulously while Violet opened the door to lead them all out.

“There is decorum to consider, yes, but it’s not illegal or anything,” Violet provided, smirking slightly at the look on Celia’s face. “Trust me, Celia, this city is like nothing you have seen before.

________________

Just a few minutes of walking from the theater, the group had emerged onto what turned out to be a market square. That was all it had taken to prove Violet was right. The square was a massive open space, covered with brightly-colored fabrics to provide shade from the sun. The scents of all that hundred different merchants could offer mixed and mingled with the indistinct but lively drone of a thousand different conversations

As remarkable as Amourot had seemed from the window of her borrowed bedroom, being out and about trumped her expectations. There were so. many. people! Not just humans, elves, dwarves and beastkin of every variety, either! Creatures she had only ever thought of as mythicalasimply passed them by, going about their day.

“What is that?” She asked, leaning in close to Lauren. Trying to be subtle, Celia pointed out what she could only see as a demoness. She had ruddy gray skin, a long swaying tail with a spaded tip, and shiny black horns that curled in like a ram’s.

“Her?” Lauren asked, following Celia’s gaze. “She’s a Pandema. They’re kind of rare in Remere, so I’m not surprised you haven’t met one before.”

Celia shook her head, turning away from the exotic woman before she was caught staring. “I’ve never even heard of them,” she quietly confessed.

“Adampor hosts all kinds these days,” Violet added. “Dryads and pixies live in the outer rings, cultivating the forests and farmlands. Nymphs and merfolk keep the waterworks of the city functional. I think there is even a dragon or two in the peaks above the city.”

It was all so new and exciting! Cair Dwemor had been the smallest taste of this wonder, and now she was here in the center of it all. “Wow,” she breathed out, even though the expression failed to capture even a tiny bit of what she felt.

“We have a few hours before we need to be back,” Tabby remarked, looking toward a large clock on a nearby supporting post.

“There’s nowhere near enough time to see everything,” Violet said with a nod to Celia. “But we could easily see the rest of the theater district, or the gardens. Maybe the temple district?”

“There is an entire part of the city just for temples?” New Gyr had a few temples to the major gods, mostly clustered in the center of town. But Celia was quickly beginning to understand that comparing a city with the complexity of Adampor to a place like New Gyr was simply futile.

Lauren’s smile lit up. “Oh! Pick that one! Lady Shala’s temple here is wonderful! They have authentic artifacts from the early days of her church, including a dress that Shala herself supposedly wore when she first manifested!”

“Any objections?” Celia asked, grinning as she was caught up in Lauren’s infectious enthusiasm.

“I wouldn’t mind making an offering with Lady Ishara,” Tabby said with a dreamy smile. “I’m sure we can find a way to enjoy ourselves with her priests.”

Visiting a major temple of the goddess of love, sex, and desire did have a kind of allure to Celia. It only took a glance at Lauren, Violet, and Tabby to firmly push that idea into the realm of fantasy though. She had four women she cared for deeply. Sex felt wonderful of course, and she was almost positive that the servants of Ishara would be gorgeous, but the idea of sex with some stranger didn’t spark much desire. “If you want, Tabby, but I think I will stick with Lauren.”

Tabby looked ready to respond, then froze and glanced at Violet. “Nevermind, let's see Shala instead,” she amended, hastily

Celia looked from one to the other before it clicked. “You’re using that mind-to-mind spell!” She accused.

“We are,” Violet admitted with a subtle, knowing smile. “It’s the perfect way to keep a fun secret.” Seeing the frown Celia wasn’t bothering to hide, the elf shook her head. “It’s something you’ll enjoy, I promise.”

“If you really want to know, Celia,” Lauren gently began. “I’ll tell you.” Slowly guiding the warrior in for a kiss, the priestess giggled against Celia’s lips. “But! I promise it’s a surprise worth the wait.”

Moving back from the kiss, Celia rolled her eyes and huffed playfully at her sister Treasures. “Fine, keep your secrets,” she said to a grin from Tabby and Lauren, along with a nod from Violet. “Let’s see this wonderful temple district in the meantime.”

________________

Celia wasn’t usually a religious woman. She said the right prayers when it was expected, knew the gods existed, and that was about the extent of her involvement with the divine. Between the tentative fumbling prayers she had shared with Lauren – her, Gella, and Violet’s impromptu appeal just before everything had gone wrong – and the rites Gella had told her Lauren had performed on their behalf – the only of the various gods Celia felt she could even begin to claim a relationship with was Shala. So when she saw the absolute majesty of the temples that dominated the temple district, the sense of awe came almost wholly unexpectedly.

They were each massive, to start. Towering edifices to the gods and goddesses, adorned with grand statues and colored banners – some of which she could easily recognise. Ishara, with her gorgeous clergy promising divine pleasure and fostering love. Daray, fierce and martial, his temple looking more like a fortress. And Tenebor, the god of death and passing.

His temple was set at the end of the row, no less impressive for its somber facade. Black banners with his distinctive cross-imposed-over-a-circle sigil snapped in the breeze, and a ball of black fire burned above its central spire. Celia stopped in her tracks once she saw the display. “Celia, what’s wrong?” Lauren asked, stopping next to her.

The memory of her parents returned, sharp and bright despite the crowds of the city. Her mother’s last words to her had been so full of love, and she had been too deep under that horrible priest's magic to respond. Despite the warmth of the day and how Lauren and now Tabby were both pressed in close, Celia shivered. “Just… memories. Did Gella tell any of you what she saw while she was helping me?”

“Just that it was personal for you,” Tabby said quietly.

“We figured you would tell us when you were ready,” Lauren added with a gentle smile.

On their walk toward Tenebor’s temple, Celia relayed the events of that awful day. All three women paused when Celia needed it, offering hugs and comforting smiles while she summarized it. Despite that, she was openly crying by the end.

“What an awful man,” Lauren said with an uncharacteristic darkness coloring her voice. “Serving any archdevil is bad enough, but that archdevil is the worst of them.”

“Archdevil?” Celia asked, grateful for the distraction.

“They’re…” Lauren made a face, as if just talking about it was leaving a bad taste in her mouth. “They have followers, and they grant magic. But they’re all just horrible.”

“They have followers and grant magic, that sounds like a g–” Her last word was cut off by Tabby, deftly slipping her hand over Celia’s mouth for a moment. From the look of determination on the pinkette’s face it was clear that Tabby hadn’t been quick enough.

“They are not gods,” Lauren firmly insisted while Tabby’s hand slipped away from Celia’s mouth. “The gods are just and fair.” Looking up at the temple of Tenebor that had just reached, the upset look melted away. “Even gods like Tenebor do the right thing. He makes sure that those who pass get the rest they deserve.”

Celia sighed, her purpose here brought back to the forefront of her mind. “It’s why I wanted to come here. I… I know I can’t talk to my parents. But, I still want to… to say goodbye – to let them know I found a place to belong.”

From the wordless hugs Lauren and Tabby gave her, and the understanding nod from Violet, Celia could tell they agreed with her.

The inside of the temple was cool and dark. Natural light filtered in through high, narrow windows, creating an atmosphere of contemplative shadow. It only took a moment for one of Tenebor’s priests – a tall elven woman with hair colored a deep blue – to approach them. “Be welcomed to my Lord’s house of mourning. How may I help you?” She asked in a soft, ephemeral tone.

“I… I lost my parents – my whole family, really – many years ago,” Ceila began. The old ache of loss returned. It didn’t threaten tears and sobs – she felt far too wrung out for that, after telling her sister Treasures about her past – but it did seem to leech what little warmth the room had away from Celia’s body.

“An old loss, I can see,” the dark-clad elven woman said, expectantly.

“Just… They don’t have a grave, and they never had a priest speak over them. I thought that I could…” She sighed, the words getting stuck in a gloomy tangle in her throat.

“I would be happy to add their names to our hall of remembrance,” the priestess offered. “Follow me, please.”

Celia stepped further into the shadowed halls, her sister Treasures following behind. They kept a respectful silence as they padded along – past groups of grieving people and other acolytes tending to their duties. One group around a monument that looked sparkling and new held her attention, though.

It was made of black stone, shined and polished to a brilliant sheen. Along its face, names were chiseled, many accompanied by a rank and a date. “Those brave souls that have been lost in the war,” the priestess answered Celia’s unasked question. “Both Adampora and Remeran.”

An orcish woman and her elven partner moved aside, letting Celia see the totality of the monument. There weren’t actually very many names on either side, which struck the warrior as odd. It was a war, and death in huge numbers was just its nature. The thought of her former comrades possibly ending up as names on this wall chilled her further. Silently resolving to ask Gella about the war after they returned home, Celia nodded at the dark elven priestess.

They were led into a smaller hall, this one with a wall made of simple gray stone. Hundreds of names covered each panel. “For those that pass at sea, or otherwise leave this world without mortal remains to commit to the soil, we have monuments like this to inscribe their names. I would be honored to add whoever you wish,” the elven priestess said, solemnly.

“Lysander and Lillian Evergleam,” Celia quietly said.

Walking down the hall until they reached a panel that wasn’t full, the priestess repeated the names while touching the stone, then whispered a spell. Before Celia’s eyes, her parents' names formed as expertly carved depressions in the stone, and with a silent bow from the elven woman, they were left alone.

“Mom,” Celia began, brushing her fingers over the newly carved names. “Dad. I… I’m sorry,” she said, voice cracking. “I… He… Vorgrim, that fucking bastard, he didn’t get you. He didn’t get anyone.” She sighed heavily, sinking to her knees. Tabby and Lauren swiftly joined her, followed by Violet laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Lauren’s hand ran up and down her back, the touch transmitting faintly through the metal of her armor. Tabby had a sympathetic look on her face as she curled against Celia’s shoulder. “I… found some people. Or… maybe I should say they found me,” Celia said with a tiny smile. “I… It’s a little strange. But I–” Tears started falling, silent streams around Celia’s smile. “I love them, and they love me. That’s what matters.”

Brushing her tears away with the tip of her fingers, Celia felt a calmness settle the melancholy. It was nice to talk like this – to pretend they could hear her. “Gella – she’s the woman who found me. She took me in, introduced me to Lauren and Tabby and Violet,” Tabby grinned, Lauren nodded, and Violet simply kept still. “And I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. I’m going to be a knight, too,” she added, believing for just a moment she would look up into her father’s proud face.

She just saw a ghostly half-reflection of her own – wearing magic armor that sparkled even in the dim light, surrounded by women that loved her, only hours away from sealing her service to that wonderful woman with a vow. She felt light, almost floating as she stood up again. “I love you. I’ll miss you.” She kissed the tips of her fingers before pressing them to each name.

The memory of Natia – of everyone else that was lost that day – passed through Celia’s mind, and she was tempted to spend more time here for them. But there would be time for that later. Her parents were at peace for her ceremony, and that was enough for the warrior right now.

“That was lovely, Celia,” Lauren said softly. “I’m sure they would be so proud of you.”

“You honor their memory well, Celia,” Violet added.

Tabby, looking close to tears herself, just threw her arms around Celia and hugged her tight. “That was beautiful,” she choked out. “I’m so happy you've found your place with us, Celia.”

Celia returned the hug, savoring how Tabby’s warmth seemed to infuse her own body. Suddenly the chill and somber atmosphere of the temple didn’t seem quite as necessary, and as the clocks in the city all began to distantly chime five, Celia nodded at her friends and lovers. “Let’s go make my place with all of you official, then.”

________________

Gella was waiting for them when they arrived back at the theater. She had changed into an elaborate set of robes in her house colors, with her long, silver hair bound behind her and decorated with a circlet of something that shimmered like gold. In her hands, she held a thick collection of parchment and paper. Accepting a brief kiss from Celia and Tabby, she beckoned all four Treasures to follow her into the sitting room they had left that morning. “Welcome back,” the mage said, setting the papers on the center table and placing herself in the middle of the couch with her arms on either side. Lauren and Tabby happily cuddled in close, sighing dreamily when Gella wrapped her arms around each of them. “Go ahead and take a look at everything, Celia.”

Stepping forward, Celia saw her name on a number of impressive-looking documents. One was her patent of nobility, elevating her to knighthood. “I thought this didn’t happen until the ceremony?” She asked, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

“The ceremony is just that – ceremonial. From the moment you sign your name on that, you will be a knight of Adampor.” Celia carefully shifted that aside to look at the next one. “And that,” Gella continued with undisguised happiness “Is what binds you as my bound knight. My champion,” she emphasized

It was densely worded, and Celia’s eyes soon began skipping the jargon-filled sentences. “This is some complicated stuff.”

“It’s worded to leave no ambiguity about what you are, what my responsibilities to you are, and what rights you have,” Gella explained. “But, to summarize – your first responsibility is to me, then my house, then finally the nation as a whole. You will do as you are told,” she said, clearly enjoying the pleased look that Celia gave in response. “And in return, you are granted room, board, training, enrichment, and a reasonable expectation of health and wellbeing.”

It sounded fantastic – everything she ever wanted, right here and only a signature away. Looking around for a quill, she was stopped by Gella making a tutting noise. “There is one more thing left to read over, Celia.”

Indeed, there was one more scroll. This one was rolled up, sealed with a little blob of wax. Celia worked it free with the edge of one armored fingertip, then carefully unrolled the parchment.

It wasn’t written in ordinary black ink – it might not have been written in ink at all. The letters all shimmered in warm, beguiling colors. From the first word, the warrior felt the scroll capture the entirety of her attention. Magic fell over her mind, urging her to not look away – to focus intently on each and every beautiful, shimmering letter. It slipped into her without a hint of resistance, filling her with a lovely warm tingle of pleasure for being such a good girl.

It was a contract, but far less dense and jargon-filled than the other two. The words slipped past her vision, spelling out what she was giving up to Gella. Her mind – of course – was the mage’s, to shape and alter however she wished. Celia smiled warmly at that. Everything Gella had done with her mind so far had been wonderful – she could happily entrust it full-time to the talented mage.

Her body. Pleasure tingled intently at that. She very much wanted to fully give her body to the mage. The midnight tryst a few nights ago had only stoked her need higher, fed her fantasies of what truly submitting would be. Beyond just pleasure, she knew that Gella would own every part of her body. Her strength, her endurance, her newly discovered magic. It teased her thoughts, rich and seductive ideas about all the things Gella could make her do.

Her heart. The molten pleasure dripping into her mind took on a rosier tint. It wasn’t just sex and pleasure that Gella owned, it was Celia’s love. She was in love with the mage, no spells of compulsion forced it, it was a love that was built on desire and on trust. It even spelled out that she was free to give her heart to the other Treasures. Lauren and Gella already shared that, while Tabby and Violet were no less beloved for being her dear friends. Each coerced thought the magic introduced was met with eager acceptance from Celia. She wanted to sign over her mind, body, and heart to the mage – to be her Treasure. A quill was already in her hand, the ink ready to mark the start of her new life with Gella. She signed without a hint of hesitation, smiling dreamily while the spell rewarded her with a tingle of pure, contented bliss.

Blinking her eyes clear, she saw the plain text on the contract. Whatever spell it held, now apparently extinguished. “Lovely,” Gella commented with a victorious smile. “I thought that since our first contract wasn’t applicable anymore, you should have a new one. One more befitting your new station, my champion.”

“I love it!” Celia exclaimed.

“I had a feeling you would,” Gella said with a pleased smile. “While the other contracts won’t be quite as enthralling,” she stressed, earning a blush and a smile from Celia. “They are still important. Make sure you understand what you are agreeing to.”

With a renewed focus, Celia pulled the first contract toward her. Her elevation to knighthood for Adampor. It listed her new title – though it did not offer lands or money. That hardly bothered Celia. Gella had already promised to provide anything she needed. Reading further, she reached the section dealing with her allegiance. From the moment she signed, she would forsake her allegiance to Remere.

That pricked her conscience more than she expected. Even when she was reciting the oath that morning, she hadn’t really internalized that –in the eyes of Remere – she would be a traitor in a time of war. And that carried a death sentence, she knew. A noose would either break her neck or strangle the life from her in a public square, if she was ever caught. Her hand went sympathetically to her neck when she read that, along with a subtle icy fear. “When I sign this, I’ll be committing treason,” she said quietly.

“You can look at it that way,” Gella allowed with a shrug. “We’ve spoken about how Ashlom doesn’t deserve your loyalty, though. He is only king because his ancestor was marginally better at killing than the other tribal warlords were,” she said disdainfully. “His court, his army, his laws, none of it ever helped you,” she continued in a much softer tone.

“I was technically Remeran too, Celia,” Lauren said cheerfully from Gella’s side. “And Mistress is right – she’s Adampora, and so is Stretta–”

“Lord Stretta, or The First councilor,” Gella interrupted with a glance to the priestess

“Right, him,” Lauren recovered with a giggle. “And now, technically, so am I. We’ve already helped you so much more than Ashlom ever did.”

Celia hesitated, pen poised over the dotted line that would brand her a traitor. Both women were right, certainly. Even her local lord hadn’t protected her or her family. They had been largely left to fend for themselves long before that awful day. Gella, Stretta, the power and prestige and wonder of Adampor – it all pressed on her. She wanted to be a part of this, and clung tightly to that desire while she quickly signed her name.

“Well done, my champion,” Gella purred, settling Celia’s nerves. The document had her signature on it now, she was committed to this new wonderful land. She… she was a knight now! Standing and grinning, the newly-made knight stepped over to the couch and sank to one bended knee. “I’m a knight!” She said, beaming up at Gella, Lauren and Tabby.

“Not just any knight, Celia,” Gella said, taking her hand off Lauren’s shoulder to brush through Celia’s hair. “My knight. Bound to me and my house,” she promised sweetly.

Despite all the lovely feeling that nuzzling into Gella’s soothing touch delivered, a tiny mote of discomfort made itself known. “Your house,” Celia said quietly. Anastasia had been kind, if aloof. Damian was a fellow warrior and a fine friend. The only other close family of Gella’s that Celia hadn’t met would be her father, who was apparently too busy in the field to attend the festivities. She didn’t hate the idea of serving any of them, but she wasn’t thrilled about it either. “Do I have to obey them too? Your family, I mean.”

Gella looked thoughtful while she continued toying with Celia’s hair. “If it’s a reasonable request, I suppose you would. But they would need to make it known they were officially ordering you to do something. Just telling you to follow them or to bring them a glass of water wouldn’t be enough.”

Celia nodded before reluctantly moving away to quickly sign the second contract. It might officially say she was a bound knight of House Sadran, but in her own heart she was a bound knight to Gella herself. It was Gella that had found her, had taught her so much, and even sacrificed a bit of her own soul to save her – not Damian or Anastasia.

Stepping forward and rolling up the documents, Gella slipped them neatly into nowhere. “It’s done,” she said with a content smile. “You are mine now, Celia Evergleam,” the mage breathed while her finger slipped under Celia’s chin. With just the slightest bit of upward pressure, Gella urged her to stand.

Celia felt herself nearly glide to her feet, looking into Gella’s deep gray eyes. They captured her like nothing else could, surrounded her in a feeling of willing surrender. She could fall forever into those eyes. “Kiss me, my champion,” Gella commanded.

Nodding briefly, Celia embraced the mage and stepped closer to her. Warm soft lips met her own in a slow, gentle press. She shut her eyes to let the sensations wash over her. Gella’s delicate perfume dancing just on the edge of notice, her strong slender arms holding the warrior’s hips. Even the light, intimate sounds of their lips together sounded more pronounced.

Gella’s tongue brushed across Celia’s lips, demanding entry. The warrior happily complied, savoring the light sparks of pleasure that danced from her lips. The mage explored her mouth, claiming every part of it for herself while Celia let herself be swept away by the tide of desire.

After what felt like hours of intense, intimate kissing, Gella relented and let Celia stand on her own. Feeling breathless and giddy, she couldn’t help the love struck grin that claimed her lips. “I’ve been wanting to do that with you for far too long, my champion,” Gella warmly said.

“That’s not all she wants to do with– Mmmmph!” Tabby began, only for Lauren to hastily cover the beastkin girl’s mouth with her hand.

“Tabby! That’s a–” She also froze when Celia gave her an inquisitive look. Smiling brightly and taking her hand off Tabby's mouth she continued with, “a great way of letting us know Mistress wants waffles tomorrow?” She lied, entirely unconvincingly.

Rolling her eyes at the adorable priestess, Celia turned back to Gella. “Planning a sneaky surprise?” She quietly asked.

“I am,” Gella admitted with a sly smirk.

“A party for when we get home?” Celia guessed. That seemed like the kind of thing they would all be playfully plotting.

Gella only gave a vague shrug and that damnably knowing smirk of hers. “Lauren, my Dreamgirl, take Celia to get freshened up. The ceremony is due to start soon. I need to discuss clothing preferences with my Pretty Kitty.”

Lauren eagerly slipped off the couch, and took Celia by the hand while Tabby gave her best innocent smile. As the pinkette led her out of the room, Celia heard Gella advancing on the cat-girl – quickly followed by a soft, happy sigh just before Lauren shut the door behind them.

The moment they were alone in the hallway, Lauren wrapped Celia up in a comforting hug. Slipping her own arms around the priestess, Celia melted into it. The desire Gella had ignited with her kiss mellowed into a tantalizing glow under Lauren’s heartfelt appreciation. “You’re with us Celia, for real,” Lauren said, giddy excitement heavy in her voice.

“I am,” Celia assured her, parting just enough to see the delight in Lauren’s pink-rimmed eyes. “The evil mage finally won,” she teased, earning a giggle from Lauren.

“And the beautiful knight can live happily ever after!” Lauren exclaimed, leaning in for a kiss, which Celia happily granted.

________________

The door in front of Celia opened, and the warrior felt the gaze of hundreds of people wash over her. The hall had been decorated in House Sadran’s colors, with the long central walkway to the stage covered in emerald green carpet. Along either side, galleries swept up – each presumably filled with whoever Anastasia Sadran had wanted to impress with this.

The same colorful, varied mix of people she had seen in the streets were represented here. Humans, elves, dwarves, beastkin, a few of those pandema, and more above which she couldn’t discern by sight alone. All of them were here to watch her ascension to knighthood.

She was suddenly very glad this part allowed her to keep her helmet on. Though it felt like nothing to her, she knew that – from the outside – the enchanted metal would hide her curious gaze flicking all over the crowd.

Breathe, you can do this, she told herself. She only had to wait until she heard the uplifting melody of Adampor’s Anthem. It was a stirring rendition, full of trumpets and drums, and it provided a perfect beat for Celia’s choreographed procession down the center aisle.

The center stage contained the imposing figure she still privately thought of as The Lord Sorcerer. He stood tall and proud, adorned in robes of inky midnight, decorated with silver that glowed from enchantments. Radiating a kind of presence and power, he surveyed the grand hall with a kind and understanding expression. Next to him were Anasatasia and Gella, the former looking like a more mature and resolute version of the latter. Both wore expressions of joy and excitement along with their immaculate gowns, with more than a touch of love on Gella’s face as she watched Celia approach.

Standing behind Gella were Celia’s sister Treasures. Violet, looking aloof and gorgeous, her tall frame accented perfectly by the different cut of her dress. Lauren, looking overjoyed. And Tabby, who had been coerced into her own green and silver dress by Gella. It was easy to deduce that coercion was magical from the warm drowsy grin on the cat-girl’s lips, and the way she was being carefully supported by Lauren.

Finally, the music stopped just as Celia reached the edge of the stage, just as she had rehearsed and practiced. There would be speeches from The Lord Sorcerer, welcoming her to Adampor and thanking her for her choice. They were nice to hear, sure, but even if her fresh title meant she served this man in some distant way, he didn’t own her. She would serve him because Gella did – because Gella wanted her to be the best Adampora knight she could be.

Anastasia and Gella both recited their oaths of loyalty anew, with added oaths from Gella about her slaves. The word still stung, just not as bitterly. There was some comfort in the Adampora definition wasn’t the same as that awful bastard priest had used. But it still felt off. A sharp prickle in the otherwise warm excitement Celia felt growing in her.

She may have already legally been a knight for an hour or so, but the ceremony was important. Not just to the crowd, but to Celia herself. She wanted it to be seen – to be acknowledged. Everyone in this room would know she had been given Gella’s favor – that she had impressed her enough to deserve this.

The Lord Sorcerer faced her, an ornate, curved blade, alive with magical flames held out at his side. That was her que. Dismissing her helmet, the warrior dropped to one knee and crossed her chest with one hand. Locking eyes with the powerful caster, she carefully recited her first oath – the oath of loyalty to his nation.

“I, Celia Evergleam, before the eyes of the First Councilor and House Sadran, do swear fealty to the nation of Adampor. I vow to serve with every drop of my blood and every bit of my strength. May this vow bind me, from this day until the day I die,” she said by rote.

He nodded graciously at her, accepting her oath and tapping her twice on the shoulder. “Rise, Dame Evergleam, knight of Adampor,” he intoned, voice magically augmented to fill the hall.

She rose to her feet, pride surging through her. It was comforting and exhilarating, simmering softly in her mind. She was a knight! A real one, titled and acknowledged by everyone. But she knew now that it was only a half step toward what she really wanted.

Turning to Gella, the beautiful powerful woman that had stolen her, scared her, cared for her, healed her, and would now own her. She sank to her knees and recited what she was nearly certain would be the most important oath to ever cross her lips. It flowed out effortlessly, each word lifted by Celia’s own convictions.

“I, Celia Evergleam, knight of Adampor, bind myself to you and your house as a bound knight. To serve at your pleasure and carry your standard. My strength and my body – my whole being, I entrust to you.” No doubt or hesitation flared, only a sense of peace and rightness that Celia swore she could feel bloom in her mind.

“Rise, Dame Evergleam” Gella commanded. Even if it was just her line in the ceremony, the command added a flare of desire to the happy swirl of emotions making the warrior grin. She obeyed, seeing the excited sparkle in Gella’s eyes.

Violet handed over an unsheathed blade – Celia’s own, though she hardly recognized it for the polish and cleaning it had been subjected to. Like its wielder, it had been decorated with subtle hints of silver and emerald along the grip and around the pommel. It had been cleaned and enhanced, just as Celia herself now was.

“I accept your service, Dame Evergleam. From this day until I release you, you are bound to me and my house.” Gella said with a firm, powerful command. It rang through the hall and echoed in Celia’s body, right down to her soul. Like her knighthood, it may have been official for an hour at this point, but having it proclaimed like this made it feel so much more real.

Sheathing the blade that Celia now wielded in bound service, she faced the mage reverently. Two gentle fingers pressed as light as a breeze to Celia’s forehead and the magic words of “dèan mo chomharra,” filled the air. She didn’t need to see Gella’s magic color her skin, she could extend just enough of her still growing magical sense to feel the intent and the spell.

She was Gella’s. Bound by Oath and Mark, and she couldn’t imagine anything better.