The Cleric's Two Faces

With some time before dinner and Eleanor still not there, Aaron changed into clean clothes, handed his dirty ones to a maid, and went to the second-floor study.

The house held a great many books. He wanted to see what he could find about "Mepham the Warlock."

Aaron figured he was safe for now. He was in Suzail, Cormyr's capital, and living in Three Crowns District, a wealthy neighborhood full of powerful people. But if he meant to keep adventuring and avenge Hicks, he was bound to meet that Elite Warlock again someday.

He needed to learn more about Warlocks.

Warlocks were a relatively new and mysterious profession, and Aaron knew little about them. He had known little about the Realms in his previous life, and in this one, he had rarely heard anyone mention Warlocks.

Before long, Aaron found a book about Warlocks in the study.

"Warlocks seldom appear before ordinary mortals, but their power must not be underestimated."

"Since ancient times, mortals have craved power as naturally as they breathe. Spellcasters spend their lives exploring the mysteries of magic, while those who cannot cast spells hone their skills through sweat and toil across the Realms."

"But talent differs from person to person. Most people cannot achieve their goals through effort alone."

"Some therefore seek a shortcut. They try to summon Outer Planar Beings, search for mighty sources of power, and perform rituals to contact supreme existences beyond this world. A fortunate few succeed in making pacts with Outer Planar Beings, mighty entities from other planes, or even indescribable beings beyond the stars, gaining the power those beings bestow."

"These are Warlocks. Charisma is their most important attribute, determining whether they can attract a powerful Patron willing to make a pact with them."

Isn't that rather like my situation? Aaron thought. Except the powers the four gods gave me became part of my body, soul, and blood. That's why I became a Sorcerer—a Chaos Sorcerer.

"Warlocks are not rare in the world. Most simply refuse to admit what they are, disguising themselves as Mages, Druids, or Sorcerers. As a result, few people recognize them."

"Despite the similarities, Warlocks possess no inherent spellcasting ability. Their magical power comes entirely from powerful beings of other planes."

"The supreme being who makes the pact and provides the power is the Patron. Warlocks, without exception, become their Patrons' servants. Through the pact, they gain the mighty spellcasting abilities they have always desired."

"In return, Warlocks must obey their Patrons' commands at all times, accept their arrangements, and protect their interests."

"This relationship somewhat resembles a Deity granting Divine Magic to a Cleric. True gods, however, do not casually grant great power to mortals, nor do they often intervene directly in mortal affairs. Mortals seeking shortcuts can only place their hopes in beings from other planes that are not Deities, circumventing the world's established laws to walk this thorny path."

Aaron began to understand.

There was no such thing as a free lunch. Shortcuts came at a price. Most of the time, the relationship between a Deity and a follower resembled a partnership protected by law. The mortal might be the weaker party, but the arrangement was broadly beneficial to both, and the laws protected them both.

A Warlock's relationship with a Patron was more like that of an enslaved person to an owner. The Warlock sold himself for the ability to cast spells.

Casting Divine Magic generally did little harm to a Cleric's body. But if a Warlock drew heavily on his Patron's power, his body and soul would gradually change until he became something like his Patron.

Aaron read on.

The book stressed that not all Warlocks were evil. Some good people became Warlocks after a Patron happened to choose them. In those cases, the Warlock and Patron might be locked in fierce opposition: one constantly trying to break free, the other tightening its control. Their game of cat and mouse could last the Warlock's entire life.

In very rare cases, a Warlock and Patron had a relationship like master and apprentice, idol and admirer, or even lovers.

Most Warlocks, though, were servants who submitted for power and signed away their freedom.

By far the most common Patrons were Fiends: Devils from Hell or Demons from the Abyss. They accounted for more pacts than every other kind of Patron combined.

Then came the Great Old Ones, Archfey, Celestials, Eternal Godspawn, Shadow Fallen, Deep-Sea Krakens, Elemental Genies, Lich Kings, and many more.

Aside from the Archfey and Elemental Genies, who lean neutral, and the Celestials, who lean good, the names alone make the rest sound evil, Aaron thought. No wonder they're called Warlocks instead of pact-mages.

He skimmed the rest and focused on the section about the Great Old Ones.

Patrons among the Great Old Ones included G'Nar, the Lurker; Sarizdon, the Bound God; Zagon, the Returned; Cthulhu, the Great Old One; Azathoth, the Blind Idiot God; and others...

How the hell did Lovecraft get mixed up in this???

Aaron could not help making the remark to himself.

Then again, he had crossed into another world. There was hardly any point finding this strange.

The greatest difference between Great Old One Patrons and others was that these indescribable supreme beings beyond the stars rarely gave their Warlocks guidance or orders. Their Warlocks enjoyed far more freedom. But the beings constantly transmitted incomprehensible higher-dimensional knowledge and echoes of thoughts beyond words. It was only a matter of time before their Warlocks went mad; most did not live to half their natural lifespan.

Every Warlock capable of making a pact with a Great Old One was a master of the occult.

That was enough. Aaron closed the book and began to think. A peculiar idea gradually took shape in his mind:

Looking at me, couldn't I be a Warlock's Patron?

I'm a Child of Chaos, wielder of the four great powers of the Four Chaos Gods. Couldn't I make pacts with mortals like other Patrons, share my power with them, and raise a force loyal to me?

What? Fiends can do it, Celestials can do it, and Elemental Genies can do it, but a Child of Chaos can't?

I may not be a Primarch who can create his own Space Marine legion, but once I unlock more of the four gods' powers, raising a few Daemon Princes shouldn't be a problem, should it?

For Aaron, whose strength was still limited, that was a plan for the distant future. Still, he thought it worth remembering now.

The future looks promising. Very promising.

Aaron closed the book and tried to find something on magic, but after searching for quite a while, he came up empty.

The Sallyan family collection contained few books on magic. The family had never been known for its spellcasters.

I'll have to visit the Royal Library sometime. It should have books explaining divine power and magic. But where am I supposed to find a Sorcerer to teach me?

If he asked the royal family or a great noble house to find him a teacher, he would owe them an enormous favor. Aaron wanted no such debt.

The Viscount paced the study, considering what to do next. Then he happened to glance through the window at the family garden below.

He stopped short.

Eleanor Dinefur—the Cleric of Selûne, the Lady of Silver, and the Flower of the Sunken Sea—stood in the garden below!

Crimson evening light fell across the small garden by the entrance. At the end of the short cobblestone path, Eleanor stood beneath the vines of the Sallyan residence, quietly gazing at the mansion near the palace.

She wore no mask over her delicate, pure face. Beautiful as the moon and bright as a silver star, she had a hint of hesitation in her sapphire-blue eyes. Her golden brows had lost their usual sharpness, her rosy lips pressed lightly together. Lustrous hair cascaded down her back in a neat golden waterfall.

The Cleric wore a knee-length silver-moon silk dress embroidered with gold-thread flowers. Slender fingers extended beyond its long sleeves, which revealed wrists pale as jade. White gauze edged in gold lent her graceful arms an air of holiness. Around her neck hung the little vial containing azure hair, resting above her delicate collarbones. Bellflower blossoms were embroidered across the dress. Though the neckline looked fairly loose, her full breasts still strained against it, revealing a glimpse of cleavage.

So Eleanor has been hiding quite a bit! Aaron thought. I'd never have guessed while she was wearing armor!

Why hasn't she knocked?

Aaron thought no more of it. He went downstairs at once and opened the front door. "Miss Eleanor? Welcome! Welcome to the Sallyan residence—my home."

"Ah! What are you doing here?!" The Cleric, still wrestling with her thoughts, jumped when the door suddenly opened. The words escaped her before she could stop them.

"..." Aaron gave her a sidelong look and pointed at the number beside the door.

"Um... Sorry. It's just, I didn't... I didn't want to come dressed like this! They made me!" Eleanor realized how ridiculous her question had been. A flush spread across her moon-pale face, echoing the distant sunset.

Her voice grew quieter with every word until she could say no more.

She had not wanted to dress like this! But when she had delivered Lady Silverstar's letter to the Church of the Silver Mother in Suzail, its priestess had brought out this outfit and insisted she put it on. When the priestess learned Eleanor was going to Aaron's house for dinner, she had taken all the clothes Eleanor changed out of and sent them to be washed without another word!

Your clothes are already in the wash. Just wear this. It's a gift from Lady Silverstar.

Eleanor had argued to no avail. With dinner approaching, her habit of punctuality had left her no choice but to come dressed like this.

The Cleric felt so wronged she could almost cry.

Are you people really followers of the Lady of Silver? How could you set me up like this?

Doesn't it make me look as though I'm trying to impress him?

In fact, if Aaron had not spotted her, the Cleric would probably have kept wavering until someone found her.

"D-don't keep staring!" Eleanor finally grew flustered and angry under Aaron's unrestrained gaze. Her hand went instinctively to her waist.

This man needs a knock on the head!

Huh? Where's my warhammer?

Only then did the Cleric remember that she had left Hand of the Moon at the Church.

Oh no! What do I do? What do I do?

Without her hammer, Eleanor was completely at a loss.

At just the right moment, Aaron held out his hand to her. His handsome, captivating face was utterly sincere. "You're very, very, very welcome here, Miss Eleanor. You look beautiful tonight!"

"..." The Cleric's face burned. She studied him carefully, and only after satisfying herself that his expression was sincere did she abandon the urge to turn and run.

"Th-thank you for having me." Guided by Aaron, Eleanor stepped into the Sallyan residence in a pair of white lace-up heels, walking a little unsteadily.

"Welcome, welcome!" Aunt Mellie was, sure enough, the first to greet her. The middle-aged woman took Eleanor by both shoulders as though they were already close. "Oh, Lady of Silver above! Eleanor, my little angel, you grow more beautiful every time I see you!"

"Hello, Lady Mellie. Hello, Lord Lothair." The Cleric greeted them warmly, holding back her embarrassment even as her face grew hot.

It feels so strange without my mask... so embarrassing...

I know them all, but... I can't explain it. Especially with him and his family here... But their family has worshipped the Lady of Silver for generations. I can't just...

Lady Mellie showed no sign of releasing her shoulders and had already begun asking about her family and whether she had a boyfriend. Helpless, Eleanor shot Aaron a pleading look.

"That's enough, Auntie. It's Eleanor's first visit to the Sallyan residence. You'll overwhelm her if you're too enthusiastic." Aaron promptly came to her rescue, and Aunt Mellie let go.

Once no one was touching her, Eleanor relaxed at once. Unlike when she was with Aaron, she put on a bright smile and warmly asked after his aunt and uncle's health, then after his cousin Robert and young Yuta. With a little trick, she produced a vivid bellflower in her hand and tucked it into the girl's hair, making her giggle. She even corrected the girl's prayer gesture.

Before long, Eleanor had the whole room following her lead.

Damn it, whose house is this—mine or yours?

Now Aaron could no longer stay composed.

The Cleric chose just that moment to give him a challenging look.

I'm in charge now!

"Miss Eleanor, this is your first time visiting my home, isn't it? We still have some time before dinner. Would you like me to show you around?" Aaron decided to take the initiative.

"Of course. We old folks shouldn't get in the way of the young." Aunt Mellie was quick on the uptake. As she spoke, her elbow landed squarely in Lothair's side.

"Yes, dinner won't be ready for a while. Go and have a look around with Aaron, Eleanor." Uncle Lothair endured the pain and caught hold of his daughter.

Aaron returned Eleanor's challenging look with one just as smug.

It's my house!

Tch. Seeing the tide had turned, the Cleric could only glare back.

Best two out of three!

After paying their respects together at the small shrine to Selûne on the first floor, Aaron led Eleanor to the study.

She rarely visited nobles' homes and could not help looking around with curiosity as she followed him. The Sallyan family might have declined, but they still seemed awfully rich!

No wonder the Clerics and Paladins of the Church of the Three Gods of Justice I've met sometimes hate nobles so much!

Hmph! If the Sallyan family hadn't chosen the right Deity, I wouldn't give him the time of day!

That was what the Cleric told herself. In practice, though, she thoroughly enjoyed the tour Aaron gave her.

The Viscount had a way with words, not to mention Extraordinary Charisma. Eleanor found him a pleasure to listen to.

Aaron, of course, took the opportunity to steal glances at the Cleric.

Beneath her embroidered knee-length dress, her long, slender legs stood close together. The light hem fell just past her knees, and the smooth, pale lines of her legs extended to delicate ankles. Her feet rested in white peep-toe lace-up heels, with the tips of a few toes showing. Silver-star patterns adorned the sides of the shoes.

The Cleric's graceful figure swayed slightly before Aaron. She was clearly unused to walking in heels; her delicate ankles wobbled with every step as though they might give way.

Still, something's missing, Aaron thought with regret, even as he admired her.

Eleanor naturally felt Aaron's gaze. Annoyed but unable to find a reason to rebuke him, the Cleric pointed to a huge tapestry ahead of them. "Is that your family tree?"

"Yes." Only then did Aaron raise his eyes.

Before them hung an enormous tapestry, some eight meters long and four meters high. It depicted the Sallyan family's long lineage, every name representing a piece of its past.

The Sallyan family traced its earliest ancestors to Ostraci, an Earl's daughter of the third generation of Cormyr's first king, Ondas Obeszir. Her marriage to a local noble had brought the family its earldom. Their most famous ancestor, however, was Lyondolf. He had won a fief through military service and frontier expansion, truly establishing the Sallyan family.

"I can't find your name." Eleanor went straight to the end of the tapestry, but however hard she looked, Aaron's name was nowhere to be seen. "I can't find your father's either."

"Mine? My name is here." Aaron could not help laughing. He pointed to a spot near the end that had clearly been burned away. "Here. He burned off both my name and my father's."

"Why?" Eleanor plainly did not understand.

"Because we were useless, unworthy of the Sallyan name. He thought our very existence disgraced the family." Aaron gave a bitter snort.

"I never thought he was that kind of person." Eleanor recalled Aaron's father. "In public, he was always so upright, so polite and humble, and so full of compassion."

"People often have two faces. Just like you, Miss Eleanor." Aaron stepped closer behind her and whispered by her ear, "You're nothing like this with me when you're talking to my family!"

"That's only because they..." Eleanor felt his pleasant breath brush her ear. The intimacy of Aaron's gesture made the Cleric blush as she tried to defend herself.

"You don't need to explain. I understand." Aaron fixed his deep, sky-blue eyes on Eleanor. "I'm glad you act this way with me. Truly."

"If you treated me the way you treat my aunt and uncle, that would make me sad. It would mean you didn't really consider me one of your own—a partner who shares your ideals, someone touched by the Lady of Silver, a true friend."

"I'm glad you let me see your real self, dear Eleanor. I hope we can keep being like this: at ease with each other, neither of us hiding who we really are. Can we?"

Boom!

Aaron's words struck the Cleric's heart like a great battering ram.

He understands me!

That's it for today. I'm going out to get myself something good to eat.

(The end of this chapter)