The Cleric's Two Faces

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

The house held plenty of books. He wanted to look up that "Warlock Mepham."

Aaron figured he was safe for now. He was in Suzail, the capital of Cormyr, and in the Three Crowns District, a wealthy neighborhood where the powerful lived. But if he still intended to go 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. Aaron knew little about them. In his previous life, he had known little about the Realms, and in this one, he had rarely heard anything about Warlocks.

He soon found a book on Warlocks in the study.

"Warlocks rarely appear before ordinary people, 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 sweat to hone their skills across the Realms."

"Yet everyone's talents differ, and most people cannot achieve their goals through effort alone."

"Some seek shortcuts. They try to summon Outer Planar Beings and find powerful sources of strength, performing rituals to communicate with supreme beings beyond this world. A small number get their wish, signing pacts with Outer Planar Beings, mighty entities from other planes, or even nameless beings beyond the stars, and receiving power from them."

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

Isn't that a little like my situation? Except the powers the Four Gods granted me have fused with my body, soul, and blood. That's why I became a Sorcerer—a Chaos Sorcerer.

"Warlocks are not rare, but most refuse to admit what they are, disguising themselves as Mages, Druids, or Sorcerers. As a result, few people know much about them."

"Despite the similarities, Warlocks have no innate ability to cast spells. Their magic comes entirely from powerful beings of other planes."

"The supreme being who signs a pact and grants power is the Patron. Every Warlock is a Patron's servant. Through the pact, the Warlock gains the formidable spellcasting ability they have long desired."

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

"The relationship resembles that between a Deity and a Cleric granted Divine Magic. But true gods do not casually grant mortals great power, nor do they often intervene directly in the mortal world. Mortals seeking shortcuts can only pin their hopes on otherworldly beings that are not Deities, bypassing the world's established laws to walk this thorny path."

By then, Aaron was beginning to understand.

There was no such thing as a free lunch. Shortcuts came at a price. Most of the time, the relationship between Deities and their followers was like a partnership protected by law. Mortals might be the weaker party, but both sides benefited and enjoyed the protection of those laws.

The relationship between a Warlock and a Patron was more like slavery. Warlocks sold themselves for the ability to cast spells.

Casting Divine Magic usually had little effect on a Cleric's body. But if a Warlock used too much of a Patron's power, their body and soul would gradually change, making them more like the Patron.

Aaron read on.

The book stressed that Warlocks were not necessarily evil. Some good people were chosen by Patrons through sheer chance. A Warlock might therefore spend a lifetime resisting a Patron's control while the Patron tried to tighten it, the two locked in a game of cat and mouse.

In extremely 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 had submitted and signed a pact for power.

The most common Patrons were Fiends: Devils from Hell or Demons from the Abyss. They outnumbered all other kinds combined.

The others included the Great Old Ones, Archfey, Celestials, Eternal Godspawn, Shadow Fallen, Deep-Sea Krakens, Elemental Genies, Lich Kings, and more.

Apart from Archfey and Elemental Genies, who lean neutral, and Celestials, who lean good, you can tell the rest are evil just from their names. No wonder they're called Warlocks, not Pactcasters.

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

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

What the hell is the Cthulhu mythos doing here???

Aaron could not help grumbling.

Oh, well. I crossed into another world. I guess this isn't so strange.

What set Great Old One Patrons apart was that these nameless supreme beings beyond the stars almost never gave their Warlocks guidance or orders. Their Warlocks enjoyed far more freedom. But the beings constantly transmitted incomprehensible, higher-dimensional knowledge and unspeakable echoes of thought. 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 signing a pact with a Great Old One was a master of the occult.

That was enough. Aaron closed the book and began to think. An odd idea gradually took shape:

Do I look like someone who could be a Warlock's Patron?

I'm a Child of Chaos, wielder of the four great powers of the Chaos Gods. Could I sign pacts with mortals like other Patrons, share my power with them, and build a force loyal to me?

Why not? If Fiends, Celestials, and Elemental Genies can do it, why can't I?

I'm no Primarch, so I can't create my own Space Marine legion. But once I unlock more of the Four Gods' Power, elevating a few Daemon Princes shouldn't be a problem, should it?

For Aaron, whose power was still limited, this was a long-term plan. Still, he thought he could make a note of it now.

The future looks promising. Very promising.

Aaron closed the book. He wanted to find something on magic next, but after searching for a while, he came up empty.

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

I'll have to find time to visit the Royal Library. They should have books explaining Divine Power and magic there. But where am I supposed to find a Sorcerer mentor?

Asking the royal family or a great noble to find him a mentor would leave him owing an enormous favor. Aaron did not want that.

The Viscount paced the study, considering what to do next. Then his gaze happened to fall on the garden below the window.

He stopped short.

Eleanor Dinefleur, the Flower of the Sunken Sea and a Cleric of Selûne, the Lady of Silver, was standing in the garden below!

Crimson evening light washed over the little garden by the entrance. Eleanor stood beneath the grapevines of the Sallyan Residence, beside a short cobblestone path, quietly studying the mansion near the palace.

She wore no veil over her delicate, pure face. Her complexion shone like the moon, her features like a silver star. A trace of hesitation lingered in her sapphire-blue eyes, and her golden brows had lost their usual sharpness. Her rosy lips pressed lightly together, while her hair fell neatly down her back like a golden waterfall.

Miss Cleric wore a knee-length silver-moon silk dress embroidered with gold-trimmed flower buds. Her fingers were slender, and her fair wrists emerged from its long silk sleeves. Fine white gauze edged with gold lent her graceful arms an added air of sanctity. At her neck hung the little vial containing azure hair, drawing the eye to her delicate collarbones. Bellflower buds were embroidered on her skirt. Though the neckline looked loose, her full figure still pressed against it, revealing a slight glimpse of cleavage.

Eleanor's been hiding quite a lot! Aaron thought. You'd never know while she's wearing armor.

Why hasn't she knocked?

Aaron gave it no more thought. He hurried downstairs and opened the door. "Miss Eleanor? Welcome! Welcome to the Sallyan Residence—my home."

"Ah! What are you doing here?!" Miss Cleric, still wrestling with her nerves, jumped when the door opened and blurted out the question.

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

"Um... Sorry. I just... I didn't want to dress like this! They insisted!" Eleanor realized what an embarrassing mistake she had made. Color rose across her pale face, matching the sunset in the distance.

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

She had not wanted to dress like this! But after she arrived at the Church of the Silver Mother in Suzail and delivered Lady Silverstar's letter, a priestess at the local church had produced this outfit and insisted she wear it. Once the priestess learned Eleanor was having dinner at Aaron's house, she had taken all the clothes Eleanor changed out of to be washed!

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

Eleanor had argued in vain. With dinner approaching, she had no choice but to honor her habit of punctuality and come dressed this way.

Miss Cleric felt so wronged she could almost cry.

Are you people even followers of the Lady of Silver? How could you do this to me?

Now it looks as if I dressed up just to please him!

In fact, if Aaron had not spotted her, Miss Cleric might have kept agonizing outside until someone else found her.

"D-don't keep staring!" Aaron was still looking at her without restraint. At last, embarrassment turned to anger, and she instinctively reached for her waist.

This man needs a knock on the head!

Wait. Where's my warhammer?

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

Oh no! What do I do?

Without her hammer, Eleanor lost her nerve entirely.

But Aaron extended his large hand toward her at just the right moment. His handsome, captivating face was utterly sincere. "You're very, very, very welcome, Miss Eleanor. You look beautiful tonight."

“...” Miss Cleric's face burned. She studied him carefully and, finding no insincerity in his expression, finally abandoned the urge to flee.

"Th-thank you for having me." Guided by Aaron, Eleanor stepped into the Sallyan Residence, wobbling a little in her white, strappy low-cut heels.

"Welcome! You're so welcome!" Aunt Mellie was, sure enough, the first to appear. The middle-aged woman greeted Eleanor like an old friend, taking her by both shoulders. "Oh, Lady of Silver above! Eleanor, my little angel, you grow prettier every time I see you!"

"Hello, Lady Mellie. Hello, Lothair." Miss Cleric greeted them warmly, forcing down her embarrassment even as her face burned.

It feels so strange without my veil. So embarrassing...

I know them already, but... it still feels different somehow. Especially in front of him and his family... But his family has worshiped the Lady of Silver for generations. I can't just...

Lady Mellie kept hold of her shoulders and began asking after her life—and whether she had a boyfriend. Helpless, Eleanor shot Aaron an appealing look.

"All right, Aunt. It's Eleanor's first visit to the Sallyan Residence. You'll overwhelm her if you're this enthusiastic." Aaron came to Miss Cleric's 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 brilliant smile and warmly asked after his aunt and uncle's health, and how their son Robert and daughter Yuta were doing. Then she performed a small trick, conjuring a bright bellflower in her hand and tucking it into Yuta's hair. The girl giggled as Eleanor gently corrected her prayer gesture.

Before long, Eleanor had the whole gathering in the palm of her hand.

Damn it. Whose house is this, yours or mine?

Aaron could no longer stay calm.

Miss Cleric gave him a perfectly timed, challenging look.

I'm in charge now!

"Miss Eleanor, this is your first time at my house, isn't it? There's still some time before dinner. Shall I show you around?" Aaron decided to take the initiative.

"That's right. We old folks shouldn't get in the young ones' way." Aunt Mellie was quick on the uptake. As she spoke, she drove an elbow squarely into Lothair's side.

"Yes, dinner will be a while yet. Go have a look around with Aaron, Eleanor." Lothair spoke through the pain and drew his daughter close.

Aaron gave Eleanor the same smug look she had given him.

This is my house!

Tch. Seeing the tide turn against her, Miss 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, Eleanor followed Aaron to the study.

She seldom visited noble households and could not help looking around with curiosity as she followed him. The Sallyan family might have declined, but they were still rich!

No wonder the Clerics and Paladins I occasionally meet from the Church of the Three Gods of Justice are often so hostile toward nobles!

Hmph! If the Sallyan family hadn't chosen the right Deity, I wouldn't be so nice to him!

That was what Miss Cleric thought, but she thoroughly enjoyed the tour Aaron gave her.

The Viscount knew how to talk, and his Extraordinary Charisma helped. Eleanor found listening to him a pleasure.

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

Beneath the embroidered knee-length dress, her long, slender legs stood close together. The light hem fell just past her knees, and the smooth lines of her fair legs ran down to delicate ankles. Her feet rested in white, strappy peep-toe heels, a few toes showing at the front. Silver stars adorned the sides of the shoes.

Eleanor's graceful figure swayed slightly before him. She clearly was not used to walking in heels; her dainty ankles wobbled with every step.

There's still something missing, though, Aaron thought with a hint of regret, even as he admired her.

Eleanor naturally felt his gaze. Irritated but unable to find grounds to scold him, Miss Cleric pointed at a huge tapestry ahead. "Is that your family tree?"

"Yes." Aaron finally looked up.

A vast tapestry, roughly eight meters long and four meters high, hung before them. It depicted the Sallyan family's long line of descent, each name representing a piece of its history.

The Sallyan family traced its ancestry back to Ostraci, an Earl's daughter descended from the third generation of Cormyr's first king, Ondeth Obarskyr. Her marriage to a local noble brought the family its earldom. But the most famous ancestor was Lyondolf. Through military victories and frontier expansion, he won an estate, and the Sallyan family truly took shape.

"I can't find your name." Eleanor went straight to the end of the tapestry, but no matter how she looked, she could not find it. "I can't find your father's either."

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

"Why?" Eleanor clearly did not understand.

"Because we were both failures, unworthy of the Sallyan name. He thought our very existence disgraced the family." Aaron gave a scornful chuckle.

"I never thought he was that kind of person." Eleanor thought back to Aaron's parents. "In public, he was always so upright, so courteous, so humble, and so full of compassion."

"People often have two faces. Just like you, Miss Eleanor." Aaron came up behind her and murmured near her ear, "You're nothing like this with me when you're around my family."

"That's only because they..." Eleanor felt his breath brush her ear. His closeness flushed her cheeks, but she tried to explain.

"You don't have to say it. I understand." Aaron fixed his deep, sky-blue eyes on hers and spoke softly. "I'm glad you act this way with me. Truly."

"If you treated me the way you treat my aunt and uncle, I'd be hurt. It would mean you didn't really consider me one of your own—a like-minded partner, a Touched One of the Lady of Silver, and a true friend."

"I'm glad you let me see who you really are, dear Eleanor. I hope we can always be this comfortable together, showing each other our true selves. Can we?"

Boom!

Aaron's words struck Miss Cleric's heart like a massive battering ram.

He understands me!