A/N: Apologies for the wait! But finally it is here!

Warnings: What essentially amounts to (a brief and awkward) discussion of sex but more danced around.

Chapter 1: Mala

200 years later (approx)

Mala did not remember much of the journey to Kallamar's temple. As she swam in and out of consciousness as the fever wracked her body, she caught glimpses of her surroundings as they passed by.

Nor did she remember much of the journey through Kallamar's temple to his throne room, where he was holding court to hear his followers' requests. She caught glimpses of the interior as they passed by. In her delirium she had been struck by the beauty of the crystals that decorated his temple, and of the beauty of its architecture.

"What is the meaning of this?" Someone demanded.

"Lord Bishop Kallamar, f-forgive the intrusion." That was her father. "But our daughter-"

"You must follow proper protocol-"

"But we don't have time!" Her mother objected. "Look at her!"

There was a brief silence before her father was speaking. "Please Lord Kallamar. We have come all the way from Flotsam Village. We are all devoted followers of yours, but there is none more so than our daughter, Mala. But she has taken ill, and we fear that she will not survive the illness unless you were to intervene…"

A tense silence followed this request before another voice spoke up, coming from somewhere above her. "Let me see her." Mala opened her eyes and looked up. The large figure towering over her and her parents swam into focus and her eyes widened in recognition. That was Lord Kallamar, ruler and protector of Anchordeep, their beloved Bishop who she had been raised to adore and devote herself to. So she smiled.

Kallamar stared back. She was very sick and not long for death, and so he was surprised when she opened her eyes, let alone smiled. She was stronger than he had first thought. And her faith was strong too, as was that of her parents, so he made a decision. "Very well," he said. "Since she was able to survive such a long journey, and in recognition of your devotion, you shall have your reward." He cured her with a touch.

Mala left the temple with her parents after they had offered their most profound gratitude and continued devotion. And she watched as the temple grew smaller and smaller as the distance between them grow longer and longer, until it could be seen no more. She made a vow that she would one day return, to serve in his temple in anyway she could.

Years passed and that day finally came. A week after her 21st birthday, Mala bid her parents goodbye, and they and the whole village saw her off, giving blessings and praying for her safe travel. She left in the company of the party ferrying the village's tithe to Kallamar's temple, and her heart swelled when she saw it again.

As a newcomer to the temple, it took some time for her to find her place, but she eventually found her calling in the healer's wing. While Kallamar had power over sickness, he had no such power over physical injuries, and so the healer's wing was where the injured went to heal. Kallamar himself was a frequent visitor, though not to make use of their services. He and the senior healers would often convene to make advances in the field of medicine, and Mala would greet him politely and reverently whenever they crossed paths. She was ignored at first, as newcomers to the temple often were, but over time, his indifference became a nod of recognition.

She worked, she studied, she prayed, and she religiously attended every sermon Kallamar held. This was her life for five years, until one day a messenger tracked her down to inform her that she had been summoned to Kallamar's throne room. She swallowed in anticipation. This either indicated that she had done something very good, or very bad. And as she followed the messenger, she wracked her brain for even the most minor of infractions but could think of none.

Kallamar was seated on his throne when she entered, and as she looked around at the followers in audience, she realised that every one of his deacons were in attendance. She surveyed their faces as she approached trying to glean some understanding of what this was about. Most stared back, expressions neutral, while others were more openly welcoming. This could only mean that she was to receive a reward and not a punishment and allowed herself to relax.

She dropped to her knees before him and bowed her head in reverence. "Lord Kallamar, how may I serve you this day?"

"Mala. It has not escaped my attention how faithfully you have served my cult, more so than most others who have joined my temple in recent years. Such loyalty and devotion should be rewarded, so I am promoting you to the role of deacon. Do you accept?"

Her looked up, eyes widening in disbelief and she was speechless for a moment. "Y… yes… Yes of course!" She remembered her place and bowed her head. "It-it would be my honour, Lord Kallamar, to serve in any role you see fit."

He rose and held out a hand. "Then rise, Deacon Mala, and take your place among my most trusted." She gulped and took the hand, and he helped to her feet. When he smiled down at her, she smiled back. She had thought her heart was going explode with pride that day.

As a deacon she worked with him more closely, and was awarded conversation with him whenever they crossed paths outside of their regular meetings, and when she wasn't serving him in her intended duties. It was through these interactions and conversations that she got to know him, came to understand him better. Eventually she came to realise that she was in love with him. That in truth she always had been. Ever since he had cured her all those years ago and had saved her life, and perhaps even before then.

"Lord Kallamar-" she began. The words died on her tongue when Kallamar scooped her up into his arms with an amused smile, and she clung to his cloak with a gasp.

"How long is it going to take you stop calling me that?" She could only stare back. He leaned in closer. "You're my wife, Mala. Call me Kallamar." He leaned in further still, eyes sliding closed.

Before their lips could touch, she had awoken with a start. Her chest felt so tight and her face was red hot. How could she think of Lord Kallamar in such a way. And whatever would he think of her were he to find out? But more than that, she was ashamed by how much she wanted it, wanted that dream to be a reality, wanted him. She muffled a scream into her pillow. This was getting out of hand.

She slipped on her mask and threw on her standard follower's robes so as to not be recognised as a deacon, and headed to the temple's confession booth. It was early in the morning so there was no queue, but she had to wait for one of the confessors to arrive to take her confession. She took a seat in the penitent's partition and after drawing the curtain that would conceal her identify, pulled back her hood and pulled off her mask.

"How can I help you child?"

She glanced down at the mask in her hands and swallowed. "I am here to confess that I have… I have developed feelings for our Lord Kallamar that are… wholly inappropriate."

"You are in love with him." She flinched at how direct the statement was. "You are not the first to admit these feelings, my child. Nor will you be the last."

Mala looked up somewhat surprised by this. "I'm… not?"

The confessor chuckled. "Indeed. We are raised and taught to devote ourselves to him, and adore him above all others and all else. It is perfectly natural in some cases for this adoration and devotion to become something more… intimate."

"Yes…" she agreed. "I… hadn't thought of it like that… Do you speak from experience by any chance?"

He chuckled again. "We are here to take your confession, child, not mine."

"Y-yes, of course. My apologies."

"But you needn't worry. Your feelings will pass in time."

She swallowed. "I am not so sure that will be true in my case. You see, I… I fear my feelings for him are… selfish…"

"Selfish?"

"Yes. I had a dream about him. N-nothing particularly lewd, but… But in this dream we were married."

"I see." There was a pause before he spoke again. "Tell me, child. If such a thing happened, if the Bishops took followers to be their husbands and wives, and Lord Kallamar were to wed another. How would that make you feel?"

She squeezed her hands together as a pang shot through her heart and tears pricked her eyes at the very thought. "I would be jealous," she admitted truthfully. "At least at first… But if she-if they… if they made him happy, then… then I think that would make me happy too…. Eventually…" She pictured him smiling, truly smiling with another in his arms and she smiled too, if weakly. "Yes…" She said, nodding to herself. "I would be happy… for both of them… Just not right away."

"Then I see nothing selfish in your desires, my child. You are being far too hard on yourself."

She looked up. "… You think so?"

"I do. Trust that you will move on from these feelings in time, if you would only give yourself that time."

"I see." She did not feel convinced. "Thank you, confessor. I will take my leave now."

"Go in peace, child."

But they did not pass. And every time she was approached by another interested party, she would turn them away, for she desired no-one else but her beloved Lord Kallamar. Was she destined to be alone then? Forever?

Kallamar massaged his temples and sighed before turning to his archdeacon. "How many left?" He asked.

Archdeacon Meron, a dark green crocodile consulted his list. "Only one, Lord Kallamar."

"Send them in." A blue squid entered. As she wasn't dressed in her deacon's attire it took him a moment to recognise her as Mala. "Mala, what…?" He shook his head. "This is unnecessary, Mala, you are one of my deacons. You are free to make a request of me at any time."

She knelt and bowed her head. "Forgive me, Lord Kallamar, but I felt this was the most appropriate time and place to make this request."

"Then what is it that you would ask of me?"

"I wish to be sacrificed, my Lord, in your honour."

"Sacrificed?" He repeated and exchanged a look with Meron. His gaze was drawn to the subtle swell of her belly. "What of your eggs?"

She clutched her stomach subconsciously. "I have no one," she replied. "They are just eggs. They'll always just be eggs."

No one? He thought. After all this time? He hummed and narrowed his eyes. It seemed to him that something was troubling her, so he dismissed his court with a wave of his hand, and waited till they had all filed out. When Meron lingered he dismissed him too. "Mala. You are one of my deacons, my most loyal and devoted followers, and a most valuable asset to me while alive. So before I can grant you this request, I must know why."

"Of-of course, my Lord. It is simple. I have become… selfish in my wants and desires, Lord Kallamar. So this… this is for the good of the cult."

"Selfish?" He repeated. "Selfish how?" He could think of nothing that deserved such an assessment.

"… I have feelings for someone I shouldn't."

He blinked. "Are they… married?"

"… No… my Lord… They are not."

He blinked. He dared not assume so he had to ask. "Name this individual, Mala. I will take it in confidence." She gulped and said nothing. "Then should I assume it is myself that you refer to?"

A slump of her shoulders was all the answer he needed. "Yes… my Lord…" She spoke so quietly that he almost couldn't hear her. And normally he would be flustered by such a confession, but in this case it was actually convenient.

He scrutinised her in silence. Mala was one of the candidates he had selected as a potential choice of mate. She knew her place, was loyal and devoted, had experience with healing where those taken into her care had praised her for her kindness and agreeable manner, but under all of this was a quiet confidence that occasionally emerged when she spoke her mind in their meetings. And this was important, because he needed someone who not be afraid to discipline their children when called for. Unfortunately just thinking about the subject of, well fertilising the eggs, had been holding him back from engaging in a more proactive selection process. Now it seemed that the decision had been more or less made for him, providing she agreed to it that is.

"Mala… I…" He cleared his throat. "I had something else in mind for you." She looked up puzzled and wide-eyed. He was silent for a moment as he struggled to find the words, and closed his eyes and screwed up his face. Just spit it out, he mentally chastised himself. "I am looking for a mate to be the mother of my children," he blurted out. Her eyes widened further and she opened her mouth to say something, but he held up a hand. "Before you say anything, there are… conditions to this arrangement. These conditions are not negotiable so you must hear them all and consider them properly before you accept. If there are any that you do not agree with then you are free to decline the offer, in which case we will not speak of this again. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Y-yes, Lord Kallamar. Of course."

"Your advice will be taken into consideration, but they will be my children. So any decisions regarding them are mine to take and – barring certain circumstances – they will be final." She nodded. "They will not be ordinary children, so they cannot be allowed to flood my domain in great numbers. Therefore I anticipate that they will be required to undertake the Rite of Sickness in order to thin their numbers to more acceptable levels." She nodded at that as well. "I will wish to study their growth and development which will require the conduct of autopsies on their deceased bodies. I am not going to force you assist me or attend these autopsies, but you cannot obstruct them." She nodded again. "I still have my duties as Bishop to attend to, so much of their care will be in your hands. But I will instruct my followers to provide assistance where and when I cannot, and I will be in charge of their education. I will expect you to assist me in this as my, well, assistant." She nodded again. "Is there… is there anything that I have not made clear?"

"What plans do you have for them upon coming of age?" She asked. "How will they be fitting into your cult?"

"They will assume the roles normally assigned to my most loyal and most trusted followers depending on their suitability."

"I see," she said. "Then I believe I understand all that is expected of me."

"Then think on my conditions and I will summon you again tomorrow after I have heard all of my followers' requests… That is, unless... you will need more time?"

"No… No I think that will be enough time. But…"

"Yes?"

"There is something I would ask of you return. Ask you to consider that is. My opinion will not be influenced by your decision to accept or reject, I just…"

"What is it?"

"… Will you… will you marry me, Lord Kallamar?"

He went wide eyed. "M-marriage?"

"Marriage?" Heket repeated, her teeth bared in a snarl. "Is that what she is demanding of you?"

"No, no, sister. She is only asking if I would consider it."

"Marriage is for our followers, not for us."

"But if she is to be the mother of my children, then what… what difference does it make if I married her as well?"

"Kallamar. A marriage is between individuals of equal status. We are Bishops. Our followers are below us. We are not their equals."

"… That is true…"

"Besides, if you were to marry one of your followers, you risk alienating those who hold a similar affection for you. You could lead them to dissent. Do you really think that worth the trouble? To appease a single follower?"

"… I suppose not…"

"I guess she has point," Leshy agreed, scratching his chin with one finger. "But it's easily solvable."

"How so?"

"Well, we could establish a doctrine where a marriage rite between one of us and one of our followers is, well, not the same as a marriage between two followers. That it is not equal. And as for who, either our followers have to accept that who we marry is our choice and is to be respected and celebrated, or we could put a competition in place, so that any prospective marriage partners could compete equally for our hand."

"… You seem to have given this a lot of thought, Brother Leshy."

"Y… you think so?"

"Yes…" He shook his head. "But nevermind. Are you saying that I should marry her?"

"I'm just saying that I think it's possible, if you wanted to."

"I see."

"Well they both make good points, but both seem more concerned with the issue of marriage itself instead of the real question," said Narinder.

"What… what would that be?"

"Do you want to marry her, Kallamar?"

"Well… she's to spend the rest of her life as my mate if she agrees so I-"

"But do you want to?"

"I… don't know…"

"That's not much of a yes, brother."

"I… suppose it isn't."

"Are you fond of her?" Shamura asked.

"Well, of course. She is one of my deacons, our most loyal and devoted followers."

"But are you more fond of her than any other?"

He considered the question. The truth was… "… No… I suppose not."

"Then marrying her would give her and others the wrong impression."

He nodded. "Yes… You're right." He inclined his head in deference to his elder sibling. "Thank you for you advice, Sibling Shamura."

Shamura smiled. "Always, Brother Kallamar."

"Before you give me your answer, I will give you mine. And my answer is no. I will not marry you, Mala."

Mala bowed her head. "Of course, my Lord, I had anticipated such a response. But… thank you for at least considering it."

He hummed and nodded. "Then what say you of mine? Do you accept or do you refuse?"

"Nothing would please me more, Lord Kallamar, than to be your mate, and the mother of your children."

He nodded. "Very good." Academically he was familiar with the process of fertilising a clutch of eggs, but personally… Kallamar swore he was going to combust on the spot and his face burned. He swallowed and could not meet her gaze. "I will… I will need some time to prepare… When… when should I send for you?"

Mala's face burned as well. "W-well uh… any time within the next seven days. But um… any longer and we'll have missed the window for… well… for fertilisation…"

He nodded. "I see… Then I will send for you tomorrow evening…"

"As you wish, Lord Kallamar."

"You are dismissed." She stood and turned to leave. "Mala." She stopped and turned back. "I will be making the announcement the following day. So you are not speak of this with anyone until then."

"Of course, Lord Kallamar. As you command." Mala waited until she was out of the throne room before muffling a delighted squeal with her hands. Who would've thought that the dream she had had, of her and Kallamar, would – in some respects – come true.

A/N: Next chapter, the kids will finally be making an appearance/their debut.