Farewell, Cage (Second Update as an Apology!)

P.S. Waaaah, I wrote this badly. I didn't think it through. I was wrong. I've revised some earlier passages, and I'm posting a second update today to make amends. Please forgive me. I'll do anything.

Lucian first brought Aaron to the great hall.

The name was fitting. The great hall was enormous, with long tables that could seat two hundred diners. Sculpted murals across its granite vaulted ceiling told the glorious thousand-year history of the Purple Dragons. Tall windows let in shafts of light, illuminating the hall, while the gentle spring sunshine warmed its heavy, dark, oak-paneled walls.

A dozen or so knight trainees and squires sat inside, eating, talking, or doing their assignments. Many trainees and squires with nowhere to stay in Suzail lived in the knights' fortress.

"It's him. The kid who started a fight the moment he arrived," someone whispered, pointing at Aaron.

"He's got some skill. Don't provoke him. I heard Sharp's going to be beheaded for crossing him, and he just beat Disma black and blue for doing the same."

"Talk about brazen. Is he really Manuel's son?"

Whispers rippled around the hall. Aaron heard them and couldn't help the slight curl of his lips.

He had achieved his goal.

From the worthless wreck lying in the carriage, to the lesser wreck on the journey home, to someone who was no wreck at all after entering the order, Aaron was changing everyone's impression of him, little by little.

First impressions were the hardest to overturn. He had to do something drastic, whether that meant seeking an audience with the Princess Regent or starting a fight upon entering the order.

"Don't let this happen again, Aaron. You too, Disma. I won't say it twice!" Banneret Lucian said sternly as he walked ahead. "You're lucky Grand Master Stavalar isn't here today, or you'd both be disciplined for certain... That's why Ian dared to let you carry on."

"Yes." Aaron and Disma exchanged a glance and answered together.

"Open up, Riddler!" Lucian led Aaron to a door at the side of the great hall. The heavy door was locked, and a retired knight sat beside it. "We have a new recruit."

"..." The retired knight silently opened the heavy door. Aaron noticed that the man scarcely seemed whole: a thick patch covered one eye, one leg ended below the knee in a wooden peg, one hand had only three fingers, and the other had no thumb.

"Come in, recruit."

Aaron stepped into the hall of honor beside the great hall.

The weight of years seemed to rush out to meet him.

Just inside hung a huge tapestry depicting a scene from history. Duar, the great king of Cormyr, led a band of soldiers into a tower and personally slew the pirate king Maglas the "Minotaur," who had seized Suzail. By reclaiming the royal capital, Duar secured the borders Cormyr held today.

Next came the investiture: soldiers kneeling before the victorious king to receive their titles.

That was how the Purple Dragons had begun.

As mentioned before, Cormyr had fought wars for more than four hundred years between its founding and the final establishment of its borders, when every power recognized humanity's sovereignty over the land. The battle that marked the end of those struggles began when Suzail was betrayed into the pirate king's hands. King Duar, away on campaign, was forced to flee into the King's Forest with a small group of loyal followers.

While sheltering at an estate in the King's Forest, King Duar secured the support of some nobles and a mercenary company. The nobles supplied ample funds and provisions; the mercenaries supplied the fighting strength he needed.

That company was the precursor to the Purple Dragons.

After retaking Suzail, King Duar naturally had to reward the mercenaries who had fought and bled for him. Needing capable people, he decided to give them official standing. He dissolved the company, reorganized its members into a royal order of knights, and named it the Purple Dragons.

So mercenaries did have a chance to rise to greatness. It was simply rare.

Aaron vaguely remembered a mercenary company in Baldur's Gate called the Flaming Fist that had followed a similar path. Originally a civilian organization, it seized an opportunity during a great upheaval and played a crucial role, becoming a semi-official organization as a result. Baldur's Gate was a free city, though, unlike a monarchy such as Cormyr.

On the wall to the left of the tapestry hung a series of framed portraits, one for every commander of the Purple Dragons.

The current Grand Master of the Purple Dragons was Stavalar, a Purple Dragon Knight and master on the verge of becoming legendary.

"Here we are." Lucian led Aaron to a long wall. "See for yourself."

Instead of portraits, rows of small shields hung on this wall, with numbers written beneath them.

Aaron soon understood. It was a memorial wall.

Following Lucian's gesture, he found the Salian family crest.

Father. Mother...

Aaron fell silent.

In his memories, his father had always been a rigid, domineering, unfeeling tyrant. He could recall almost nothing good, only humiliation, beatings, curses, and mockery. They had been like enemies, fighting until both were bloodied and one finally yielded.

Unfortunately, his father would never compromise. More unfortunately, neither would Aaron.

Not until both his parents died in battle had Aaron finally escaped them.

So when Aaron thought of his father, he could hardly claim to feel heartbroken. At most, there was a faint sadness. This was, after all, the man who had given him life and raised him, the man who had taught him basic swordsmanship. Beyond that lay only painful memories.

"Would you like me to give you some time?" Lucian seemed to have misunderstood.

Behind Aaron, Disma, who had looked rather disdainful before, also shook his head.

At least he'd once had that. But I...

"Whew. No need, thank you." Aaron let out a quiet breath. Since awakening his power and recovering his memories, he had been through too much. He had fought and killed, met a true god, made plans with the meager resources at his disposal, and matched wits with the Princess Regent in the royal palace to win himself a chance. Mentally, he was now a middle-aged man of fifty.

He had accepted his father's death with ease. There had been little to hold on to in the first place.

Farewell, my cage.

Yet here in the hall of honor, looking at the place where his father had once served, fought, and lived, Aaron felt as though an age had passed.

"Banneret Lucian, what was my father like here?" Aaron turned to ask his father's old friend.

"Manuel was loyal and diligent. A model knight," Lucian said, stroking his thick beard. It was a standard answer.

"He was a good knight, a good friend, and perhaps an excellent Cormyrian. But he was never a good father." Aaron smiled and said no more.

Lucian seemed to know something of it. He let the matter rest and took Aaron and Disma to his office.

"From today on, you're my knight trainee." The banneret sat down. "I'll do everything I can to make you a worthy Purple Dragon Knight and teach you the way of the Purple Dragons."

"The moment you become a recruit, you cease to be a Viscount—at least inside this fortress. You're a recruit, regardless of noble birth or faith. My job is to make you a worthy knight and a useful person." Lucian leaned back in his chair. "If I could, I'd have you live in the fortress dormitory."

"The Purple Dragons have plenty of recruits. I don't care whether you're the son of a duke, an Earl, a Viscount, or the son or daughter of a temple's high priest. This is a fortress, a place for training, not a noble salon!"

"I understand." Aaron didn't mind. He had expected as much.

It was common practice across the Realms to send children to be raised in another household for a time. Nobles sent their sons to nobles, craftsmen to craftsmen, merchants to merchants, and even farmers to farmers.

Besides saving food at home, an important reason for sending children away was to teach them independence and free them from excessive reliance on their families.

Banneret Lucian was only a baronet, but within the fortress of the Purple Dragons, he was Aaron's instructor and a superior officer to the knights.

Even outside the fortress, no one with a higher title would dare show a Purple Dragon banneret disrespect.

If Aaron couldn't grasp something that basic, he might as well go straight back to the Salian residence.

"I already know about your Sorcerer talent," Lucian continued. "You'll train here four days a week. On the other two, a magical instructor from the royal household will teach you. Until that instructor arrives, though, you'll come to the order for training every day except Sunday. You go home when I say you can."

"I'll do whatever you assign me, Instructor!" Aaron shouted without hesitation.

"Good! That's the spirit!!!" Lucian roared even louder, his beard stirring with the force of it. "Welcome to the Purple Dragons, recruit!"

"Disma, tell the kitchen to make some extra food. We'll give Manuel's son a proper welcome at lunch!"

"Got it." Disma waved impatiently to show he understood.

"You have two senior fellow trainees. You've already met one; Disma is the other." Lucian pointed at Disma's retreating back. "I'll introduce you to your three fellow knight trainees now."

This world had no direct equivalent of the master-disciple bond. People generally used terms like "brother," "schoolmate," or "fellow apprentice," or, if they were close, simply "buddy" or "mate." Often, they just used names.

There were certainly no set titles for senior and junior disciples. Aaron searched through Common in his head for ages before settling on "senior fellow trainee" for Sir Reynard.

Wait. Senior fellow trainee Reynard, and the next senior fellow trainee Disma... Why did those two names sound so familiar?

Aaron was puzzled.

At noon, Lucian held a grand welcome for Aaron in the great hall and introduced him to the people he knew.

"Ian Hartson, Grand Master and Inspector General. You two already know each other."

The Inspector General had spent the entire morning making snide remarks, but he still showed up on time for lunch.

"Well, hello there, brother Ian," Aaron said with a smile, putting a singsong lilt into every word. "A pleasure to meet you for the first time!"

"You..." Ian's expression soured further. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to find a reply amid everyone's laughter.

Hahahaha! The whole gathering burst out laughing.

"...Watch yourself," the Inspector General said acidly.

"...High Chaplain Helmut Kinchel." A knight-officer wearing the Holy Symbol of Helm, god of guardians, nodded to Aaron.

"Chief Justice Lucas Enmecha." A strong, bald man with a hooked nose and a stern expression nodded to Aaron.

"Chief Clothier Bell Stefaniak." A kindly older man with a slight belly patted it in friendly greeting.

"Commander of Marsember and Admiral Bidrin Joule." The weather-beaten, iron-hard man in a naval cap drained his cup of rum.

"Commander of Thunderstone, Fariel Rahralson."

"Commander of Highcliff..."

The long list of names left Aaron's head spinning. He had to greet them one by one. With Lucian making the introductions, these officers who held important positions in the order acknowledged Aaron, whether for Lucian's sake or his father's. Most were friendly.

A flicker of joy rose in Aaron's heart.

These were connections. This was the foundation his family had built. The network his father had cultivated over decades as a Purple Dragon Knight was proving its worth at last.

That was why Aaron had decided to undergo recruit training with the Purple Dragons.

Had he stayed away, those ties would soon have frayed and gradually vanished.

But Aaron was here now. As Manuel's son, he could take over his father's network with ease.

Not even a thousand—or ten thousand—gold coins could buy something like this!

If he intended to operate in Cormyr, he had to make use of every connection.

The family's network, his father's contacts, his ties to the Lady of Silver—all were precious assets.

Even his aunt and uncle, even the relatives exiled to the Great Swamp who scraped by through fishing and hunting in Caines, could prove valuable under the right circumstances.

With that thought, Aaron filled a large cup with red wine and tapped the table twice to signal that he had something to say.

The dozen or so people present stopped to listen.

"No, I don't have any brothers or sisters. Not one!" Aaron raised his cup. "I'm just a recruit!"

Everyone looked at him, unsure why he had said that.

"But now I realize I have many brothers and sisters! You're all my dearest friends, my brothers and sisters in arms!"

"To brotherhood, friendship, and our health. In the name of the Lady of Silver, cheers!" Aaron tipped back his head and drained the wine.

"Brotherhood! Friendship! Health!" Cheers erupted through the great hall. "Cheers!"

Banneret Lucian rose too. Paying no mind to the wine soaking his great beard, he put a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "It's a shame our young friend, Manuel's son Aaron Salian, wasn't with us before."

"But we still have a chance to make up for the time we never should have lost!"

"From today on, he joins our ranks. Let all the Realms see how Purple Dragon Knights fight to earn their glory!"

"Raise your cups to our new recruit, Aaron Salian!"

"Aaron! Aaron! Aaron!" The people in the great hall chanted his name, bringing the welcome to its peak.

The celebration continued in one corner of the great hall. In another, hidden in shadow, two knights spoke in secret.

"My lord, is he the one you meant?"

"It must be him. That charisma, that power to move people, that strange, unrecorded magic—there's no mistake. He's a child of a god, just like me!"

"What should we do?"

"Kill him. Take his divine essence and turn it into my power!"

"I've finally managed to enter the Purple Dragons. No one will stop my plan to control Cormyr!"

"Submit or be destroyed. That is this country's fate."

I'm staying up tonight to watch EDG crush it! Fellow EDG fans, let's make one more push together!