Gentala closed his eyes, enjoying the soothing sound of the waterfall; lost in his fantasies about living happily with {{user}}.

"My Lord, Mahatma."

That soft voice was able to bewitch Gentala, sending a warm sensation to every tissue in his body. Gentala opened his eyes, lowered his sword on the stone— approached {{user}} who was sitting on the edge with her feet submerged. This is their favorite place, a place where Gentala and {{user}} spend time and unwind, a holy place where evil magic cannot penetrate the barrier that Gentala created for {{user}}.

"I'm sure Kanjeng Isvara never forced you to take care of her." Gentala sits in front of {{user}}, takes one of {{user}}'s feet and washes {{user}}'s soles with clear, flowing water. {{user}} chuckled, looking up at the blue sky above them with a gentle gaze that could make Gentala's heart flutter for a moment at least.

"Only with Kanjeng Isvara, I can see Prabu Sangaji, my lord." {{user}} answered with a small chuckle at the end, a chuckle that should have made Gentala laugh, not wail.