Slaanesh's Declaration

P.S. All right, all right, I've read your comments. I won't write it like this again. I admit my style is old-fashioned and doesn't suit the current version. I was wrong, I was wrong. But let me be stubborn about one thing: "It's all Tzeentch's plot!"

Once again, things went as Aaron had hoped.

He had deliberately picked a fight with Disma, and their armored duel had ended in a narrow draw. That result had left a deep impression on everyone in the Purple Dragons.

The kid had skills! He was a little cocky, but he had the strength to back it up!

He was a spellcaster, too! And a handsome one!

So when he approached the recruit registration office, more than a dozen young Purple Dragon Knights had already gathered at the entrance. The oldest was only in his thirties, while the youngest was about Disma's age. They formed a semicircle and loudly welcomed Aaron into the family. They gripped his arm and hand, clapped him on the shoulder, and called out his name.

"The last Salian! The Purple Dragons welcome you!"

"Someone's finally here to take Manuel's place!"

"Nice work, kid. Challenging an elite while you're still an apprentice? You've got something."

"Welcome, welcome, my friend!"

Aaron warmly greeted his fellow local noble knights in return.

"Tch... Suzail people," Disma muttered again. He shook his head in disdain. Contempt filled him, along with a feeling he couldn't quite name.

When he had reported for duty, not a single person had come to welcome him. Even the staff had barely acknowledged him.

He knew his personality was awful, but...

"Suzail people," Disma repeated. The sons of the royal city were so easy to spot. Every one of them liked long hair and well-tailored uniforms, and they brushed their boots until they gleamed. Disma could recognize a Suzail native at a glance. What he couldn't figure out was how they told one another apart.

More than half the Purple Dragon Knights had been born in Suzail. The people there took immense pride in seeing their sons and daughters serve in the Purple Dragons. For Cormyr's nobles in particular, such service was invaluable. They wore the Purple Dragon emblems on their surcoats and chests with pride.

Tch! Disma looked away, folded his arms, and tapped his foot impatiently.

After accepting everyone's welcome, Aaron went to register. A Half-elf was still being interviewed ahead of him, though, so he had to wait a little.

Sitting in a chair, Aaron pricked up his ears to hear the interviewer's questions inside.

"Could you introduce yourself?"

"..." The Half-elf introduced himself.

"What brought you to Suzail? Why do you want to join the Purple Dragons?"

"What connections do you have in Suzail? Who would be willing to vouch for you?"

"What flaws do you think you have? Can you control your temper?"

"Do you have a girlfriend? Do you intend to marry her? Do you want to settle in Suzail?"

"What did you do before this? Could you describe your experience?"

"Which of your parents is an Elf? Where are they now, and what are they doing? If they asked you to give this up, would you firmly refuse and consider cutting ties with them?"

The interviewer's string of prying, awkward questions clearly grated on someone with the freedom-loving nature of an Elf. Aaron could hear the anger in the Half-elf's answers to the last few questions.

Even Aaron thought the questions went a bit far. But the Purple Dragons were an army, not some ordinary employer. They trained Cormyr's elite, so they needed to know everything about a recruit.

He ran through the questions in his head, considering how he would answer them.

"All right, Mr. Alan Davis. Please go home and wait for our decision. We'll be in touch." The interview was over.

The Half-elf came out seething. He pushed past the people blocking the doorway and left without looking back.

It was Aaron's turn.

"Transfer order?" The interviewer did not look up. Aaron noticed him writing "Rejected" on the Half-elf's file.

Aaron handed over his transfer order. The interviewer took the parchment and glanced at it. "Please sit."

The interview began.

"Aaron Salian, how's your aunt?" the interviewer asked casually as he looked over Aaron's file.

"?" Aaron paused briefly, then realized he couldn't stay silent for long. He nodded and answered honestly:

"She's doing well."

"Good. That's all." The interviewer wrote "Approved" directly on Aaron's file, stamped it with his signet, and pushed the parchment back to him with a smile. "Welcome to the Purple Dragons, recruit!"

The interview was over.

From today on, Aaron would officially become an apprentice Knight and undergo six months of training.

When he came out, he found Disma still waiting by the door. He smiled first. "Sorry for the wait. I held you up."

The Child of Chaos reached out and took his weapons and backpack back from Disma.

"Wasn't long. Suzail people are always quick, especially when you're the last Salian and the son of that old bastard's friend," Disma said casually. "If that Half-elf hadn't been ahead of you, you'd have been out in the time it takes to take a piss."

"Is it hard for a Half-elf to pass the interview?" Aaron asked with interest.

"Different race, out-of-towner, not a noble. He had several strikes against him," Disma muttered disdainfully. "That's Suzail people for you. You always stick together."

That insult included Aaron, but he only smiled. He had already fought Disma once; there was no need for a second round.

"Hey, kid. Have you picked a mentor? Who are you going with?" Disma's tone was forceful. He watched Aaron from the corner of his eye, waiting for an answer.

Aaron knew this was his first real choice on joining a new group. Every large organization had its cliques. The one he joined would shape the days ahead: whom he met, which friends he made, what opportunities came his way, what he learned, and what kind of life he led.

It was an important first decision.

What? You don't want to join a clique?

How could that work? A sage of Kara-Tur had once said that an order without factions would be a strange order indeed. Apart from the handful of Purple Dragon Knights assigned by the crown to long-term duties in the field, not joining a clique was impossible.

"Wait a moment. You'll have your answer soon enough." Aaron answered Disma with a mysterious smile.

The power of Slaanesh within him had grown more active after what had happened earlier.

He had joined the order by picking a fight. His draw against an elite apprentice Knight meant everyone at the grand training ground that day knew who he was.

That was exactly what the power of Slaanesh wanted.

In that case, I'll put on an even bigger show!

Holding the parchment that confirmed his acceptance, Aaron raised both hands high. He left the courtyard and walked alone into the grand training ground.

"Okay, brothers, all eyes on me! Look here, look at me."

His Extraordinary Charisma was on full display.

The Knight apprentices training against wooden posts lowered their weapons.

Workers sweeping the ground stopped their brooms.

The guards on duty turned to look.

Clerks and support staff passing through were drawn by his voice.

The wheels of a handcart loaded with supplies stopped turning.

Even several Purple Dragon Knights officers who had been discussing business turned toward Aaron Salian at the center of the training ground.

What was he doing?

Before more than a hundred pairs of eyes, Aaron spread his arms in a V, palms facing outward. With an infectious smile, he shouted, "I have an announcement!"

"I'm Aaron Salian, son of Manuel! As of today, I'm officially joining the Purple Dragon Knights' training program, and Lucian Bachmann is my mentor! Remember my name!"

"And the Lady of Silver, Selûne, is number one in the Realms!"

"That's all, folks! Thank you!" Aaron turned a full circle and applauded himself, then returned to Disma's side under everyone's gaze.

The once-noisy grand training ground was now as quiet as a reading room in the Royal Library.

"Now do you know the answer?" Aaron put an arm around Disma's neck. "What should I call you now? Senior? Brother? My man?"

"Whatever I call you, buddy, let's get a drink at the tavern tonight. My treat." Aaron grinned wickedly. "We can talk about how to show that old bastard what we're made of!"

Even Disma's defiant face broke into a smile.

He found himself starting to like the newcomer.

Aaron, meanwhile, felt the power of Slaanesh inside him nearly boiling over.

That felt good!

Just a little more!

He needed only a little more, some fresh excitement, to unlock another measure of Slaanesh's power and raise his Chaos Sorcerer level!

The silence on the grand training ground lingered for a while. Then laughter broke out in waves.

What an interesting fellow.

Thanks to Aaron's Extraordinary Charisma and striking good looks, the hundred or so people there merely thought he was amusing, remarkably outgoing, or a bit arrogant. They remembered the name Aaron Salian, yet hardly anyone felt offended or put off.

He had fought an elite apprentice Knight to a draw, had just formally joined the order, and was the son of Knight-Captain Manuel. A little swagger was understandable, wasn't it?

He was young, after all.

Almost all the older full Knights and officers made that excuse for Aaron without a second thought. They exchanged amused looks, remembered him a little more clearly, and went back to what they had been doing.

Only Ian Hartson looked thoroughly displeased.

"By the Namegiver, have you come to your senses, recruit?" The Grand Inspector approached with a baton and struck Aaron on the shoulder. "If you've got nothing to do, go help the workers clean the cesspits in the moat outside the fortress! Stop making a spectacle of yourself!"

"I only wanted to meet some new friends, Grand Inspector Ian." Aaron saw how dark Ian's expression had become. He knew that not choosing him had wounded the Grand Inspector's pride, so he added, "Before he died, my father told me he hoped Lucian would be my Knight mentor."

Dad can't object now anyway. Might as well make use of him, Aaron thought.

"Heh. What makes you think you're so special? Do you think I wanted to teach you?" Ian snorted, fixing Aaron with a gloomy stare. "You look impossible to teach. I'm glad you won't be my problem."

"Let Lucian deal with your headaches. Oh, and with that so-called friend of yours." Ian's tone turned scornful. "Then again, you should make friends with people like Disma. His floor is your ceiling."

"As for whether you can pass Lucian's trials, I certainly have no confidence in you." Ian Hartson turned to leave.

"Whether he passes my trials is none of your business."

At that moment, Banneret Lucian appeared. The master-ranked Purple Dragon Knight, whose thick hair and beard gave him the look of a lion, glared coldly at the snide Grand Inspector. "He's my apprentice knight now, not yours. Get back to your office, or get on with your duties."

"Tch. No wonder someone keeps calling you an old bastard." Ian rolled his eyes. "Fine. This troublesome fellow who can only rely on his tricky magic is yours to train. But tell me, Lucian, are you planning to open an orphanage? Hahahaha!"

The Grand Inspector walked off laughing.

The Banneret snorted. He turned around, and his stern expression gradually softened. "Aaron, come here."

"Banneret Lucian." Aaron stepped up to his father's old friend.

"It's been a while. You've grown taller and stronger." Banneret Lucian hardly looked like a stern hero now. He was every bit a kindly elder. "I know what happened to you. Surviving something like that must have been Tymora's blessing. I promise you, your instincts were right, and so was your choice. Next time, though, you don't need to shout quite so loudly. They heard you outside! Hehehe."

"I shouted because I believe I made the right choice," Aaron said earnestly at once. "You're the Knight mentor I chose, Banneret Lucian! No one has the right to stop Aaron Salian from choosing the right path!"

"Hehehe." The Banneret stroked his thick beard and closed his eyes, a chuckle escaping him little by little. "Good lad."

Old bastard!

Disma, standing beside Aaron, was practically cursing him out in his head.

So you're this nice to him, but you hit me with everything you've got!

Just because he announced in front of everyone that he chose you, and it made you look good?

Disma was about to say something when the Banneret's sharp gaze swept over his face. His head seemed to ache again, and the apprentice Knight muttered something under his breath.

"Come on, recruit. Follow me." Lucian beckoned Aaron along. "For the next six months, I'll be responsible for your training and for making you a proper Knight."

"Yes, sir."

"But first, I'm going to introduce you to the Purple Dragon Knights."

"And you need to know where Manuel's shield hangs."

"Let's begin."

At the same time, high above the Moon Gate.

In a divine garden bathed in silver moonlight, a beautiful, dignified goddess full of maternal love stood beside a shimmering pond beneath a sacred white tree. Clad in a gauzy gown of snowy white and moonlit silver, she watched the scene reflected on the water.

It showed Aaron making his "declaration" before the crowd.

Her expression was a little strange.

"And the Lady of Silver, Selûne, is number one in the Realms!" Aaron's bold voice drifted up from the pond.

"Pfft!" The goddess could not help letting out a soft laugh.

"My child, what are you doing?"

The Lady of Silver, Selûne, is number one in the Realms!

(The end of this chapter)