Where the Heart Is, Part 2

Your decision made, you dive from the tower and swoop down between the buildings, skimming over the crowded streets. Based on the information Rysanial was able to gather on Elianna's usual routine, you expect that the cleric is currently attending to her duties at the Grand Cathedral. And so you head there yourself, despite the pain you feel as you approach the holy place.

Soon enough it stands before you, a towering edifice of stone and stained glass, looming over the all the nearby buildings with a stern grandeur. You drop into a nearby alley, from which you emerge in a humanoid form... though for now you keep the features you've chosen this time hidden beneath your cloak's hood. Thus concealed, you move into the enemy territory.

Just entering the courtyard of the Cathedral is an ordeal all by itself. Even out here it feels as though thorns are rending your flesh, scraping along your skin. The centerpiece of the courtyard is an old statue of what must be Selal, the goddess portrayed here as a haloed young woman in armor, holding a sword in one hand, and an outstretched banner in the other.

The mortals bow their heads in obeisance as the pass the image, and you follow suit so as not to stand out. And if entering the courtyard was bad, entering the cathedral proper is even worse. You're not sure you could function in this place if both your physical toughness and your willpower hadn't enhanced by your brand. Even as it is, you can't suppress a pained grimace as you cross the threshold. The pain increases, from feeling like thorns are rending your flesh to feeling like nails are being driven into it. But you stoically endure the pain, focused on your objective.

Your plan relies on speaking with Elianna in the privacy of the confessional. But that won't be possible for a while yet. Instead, you arrive just in time for her sermon. You file into the main sanctuary along with a large press of other worshipers, blending in with them. The pews are all taken by the time you get there, and you end up standing toward the rear, among the shuffling masses. Huge stained-glass depictions of unknown saints gaze austerely down at you from the walls, as you wait for your first glimpse of your target in the waking world.

When she finally does appear, walking up to a lectern with a large book on it, Elianna Imfiel does not disappoint. Even over a decade later, the ancient elf is still unchanged from how you saw her in the dream. And in person, her effect is even greater. She looks out across the packed throng of shorter-lived races, genuine motherly compassion in her gaze.

She dresses conservatively, in a simple nun's habit that hides most of her long blonde hair. But even the attempt at plain vestments cannot conceal just how buxom her body is, and for a moment you allow your eyes to trace the curves of those magnificent breasts as they strain against the fabric.

All eyes are on her with rapt attention. When she speaks, her voice is soft and kind, yet it reverberates through the crowded sanctuary. You sense that she is, in fact, using a divine invocation, a minor blessing to ensure that she can be heard. "May the light of Selal guide your steps."

From the way she says it, you recognize that it's clearly a part of the church's ritual. And so you're able to mouth along as the congregation replies as one. "May her words protect the virtuous, and reprove the lawbreakers."

Elianna nods, full of grace and dignity. Then she begins her sermon. "All of you know that our Holy Goddess of Honor calls us to live unimpeachable lives, full of disciplined righteousness," she says. "Yet you also know the ways in which each of us fall short of her standard. This means that, as her servants, we must never cease to heed the call to repentance and correction in our own lives. But... what of those who do not desire to follow her precepts in the same way? How are we to relate to them?"

She lets the question hang in the air for just the right amount of time before continuing. "There is, of course, no one answer. Just as souls are innumerable and unique, so too are the means by which they are best reproved. You do not need me to tell you that the town guard facing a rapacious raider and the parent facing a rebellious child must employ different responses. That much is obvious from the basic wisdom that Selal grants to each of us."

Now she opens the book, parting the pages with practiced ease to exactly the location she seeks. "Still. In considering your choice of response for the fellow citizens whom you are most likely to meet in your everyday lives, I urge you to remember these words from the Seventh Oracle of Ludmilla, canto twelve: 'Know that an example lived out is worth a hundred words spoken, and a gift of mercy is worth a thousand.' It is a truth so easy to forget, and so hard to live out. But it is a truth from our goddess. And I wholeheartedly believe it."

She continues to speak, passionately laying out her case—her plea—for the followers of Selal to show their devotion by their acts of service and charity to the downtrodden. You can feel the conviction, the faith, in her every word. You can hear her burning desire to help those trapped in dire conditions. It's clear to see why the people of Nelin are so captivated by her.

At the same time, your enhanced perception also notices a strain in her words. Expertly hidden. Probably unnoticeable to anyone here except you. But it's there. She wants to motivate the worshipers to act... but she's frustrated with what she's been able to accomplish.

You can especially see it in the eyes of the more well-to-do parishioners sitting toward the front. It's not even that they disagree with her. Many of them are fully nodding along. But in most cases, they're nodding along with a toothless agreement, the kind of agreement that appreciates the warm inner feeling of a nice sentiment in the moment... but will vanish under a deluge of excuses the instant it comes time to do anything of any serious inconvenience.

And Mother Imfiel can see it too. No doubt she's seen it countless times over her long, long lifespan. And you can see deep in her eyes how much it saddens her.

Eventually, she reaches the conclusion of her sermon. "I pray that you take all these words to heart," she says urgently. "I pray to the goddess herself that you will remember these words, and open your heart to your fellow man or woman in need."

Then, for the first time, she pauses in a way that does not seem purposeful. A genuine hesitation. "But... as you do this... you must also be wary. It is no less true that there are those who will repay your kindness with lies and deceit. There are wolves who will see your willingness to open your heart as nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. A chance to take advantage of you. A chance to even... turn you against those who hold you dear."

There's a hitch of pain in her voice at those last words. No great mystery who prompted that last little addition to her sermon. It's clear that Elianna is very worried about her beloved friends, who have—in her eyes—had their minds twisted by a demon into his sex slaves. You can feel the heat in her voice as she speaks of you. The righteous wrath toward the one who supposedly brainwashed and corrupted them into Melca's malevolent service.

This should make things interesting, to say the least.

"But... that still must not cause us to close our hearts to compassion, out of fear of weakness," the cleric says in conclusion. "If we do, then evil will have won an even greater victory. I only pray that Selal will help each of us grow in her wisdom. So that we can discern the true wolves in our midst."

With that, she dismisses the crowd with another benediction. Most of them turn to filter out, but some stay behind to confess their sins. And now comes the moment you were truly waiting for.

Even a small fraction of the crowd is still large enough that the line is a long one, forcing you to spend even more time in these excruciating conditions. But you grit your teeth and bear it, relying on your extraordinary willpower to keep you on course, and to keep your expression from faltering. Instead, you focus on listening to the utmost extent of your inhuman senses. For most, it would be completely impossible to hear details from the confessional rooms. But as your position in line moves toward the front, you can just barely make it out.

There are more clerics than just Elianna hearing confessions today, but you strain your ears for the voice of the woman you are seeking. Then you compare how far along the penitent talking to her seems to be, weighing it against those in the other confessionals. Finally, just as you're about to reach the front of the line, you turn to those behind you.

"I'm sorry," you say. "But... I need a few more minutes to pray and get my thoughts in order before I'm ready to do this. Would you mind going before me?"

The mortals behind you certainly don't object to the chance to cut ahead in line. As a result, you're able to pick your moment based on your supernatural hearing. And as a result, when you do make your move, you find yourself ushered into a booth from which a familiar voice can be heard through the opaque mesh between this and the other side.

"May the mercy of Selal be upon you, my child. What do you wish to confess?"

And that is the question, isn't it? How exactly do you want to play this?