Farewell, My Cage (A Second Update as an Apology!)

P.S. Waaaah, I didn't write this well. I didn't think it through. I was wrong. I've revised some earlier parts, and I'm posting a second update today to make it up to you. Please forgive me! I'll do anything.

Lucian first took Aaron to the great hall.

The name was no exaggeration. The hall was enormous, with long tables that could seat two hundred people for a meal. Sculpted murals covered its granite vaulted ceiling, telling 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 walls paneled in oak.

A dozen or so knight trainees and squires sat inside. Some ate, some talked, and others worked on assignments. Many trainees and squires who had no place to stay in Suzail lived in the knightly fortress.

"That's him—the kid who started a fight as soon as he arrived," someone whispered, pointing at Aaron.

"He can fight. Don't mess with him. I heard Sharp's going to be beheaded for provoking him. Disma picked a fight with him just now and got beaten black and blue."

"He's got some nerve. Is he really Manuel's son?"

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

He had achieved what he wanted.

From the complete waste of space lying in the carriage, to the lesser waste of space on the journey back, to someone who was no waste of space at all now that he had entered the order, Aaron was changing everyone's impression of him bit by bit.

First impressions were the hardest to change. He needed to do something drastic, whether that meant securing an audience with the Princess Regent or getting into a fight upon entering the order.

"This does not happen again, Aaron. And Disma, don't make me say it twice!" Banneret Lucian said sternly as he walked ahead. "You're lucky Supreme Grand Master Stavalar is away today, or you'd both be disciplined... That's the only reason Ian dared let you carry on."

"Yes," Aaron and Disma answered after exchanging a glance.

"Open up, Riddler!" Lucian brought 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 recruit."

"..." Without a word, the retired knight opened the heavy door. Aaron noticed that the man was scarcely whole: a thick patch covered one eye, a wooden peg replaced one leg below the knee, 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 washed over him.

A huge tapestry hung just inside the entrance. It depicted King Duar of Cormyr leading a band of soldiers into a tower and personally slaying Maglas the Minotaur, the pirate king who had seized the royal city of Suzail. By retaking the city, Duar had finally secured the borders of present-day Cormyr.

Next came the knighting ceremony. The soldiers knelt before their victorious king and received their titles.

That was how the Purple Dragons had come to be.

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

While taking refuge at an estate in the King's Forest, Duar had secured the support of several nobles and a mercenary company. The nobles supplied ample funds and provisions, while the mercenaries provided the fighting strength he needed.

That company was the precursor to the Purple Dragons.

After retaking Suzail, Duar naturally had to reward the mercenaries who had fought and bled for him. Needing capable fighters, the king gave the company official standing. He disbanded it, reorganized its members into a royal order of knights, and named it the Purple Dragons.

So mercenaries did sometimes get the 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 had seized the chance to play a crucial role during a great upheaval and become semiofficial. Baldur's Gate, however, was a free city, unlike a monarchy such as Cormyr.

Beyond the tapestry, a series of portraits lined the wall on the left. Each framed bust depicted a former commander of the Purple Dragons.

The current Supreme Grand Master of the Purple Dragons was Stavalar, a Purple Dragon Knight and master nearing legendary rank.

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

There were no portraits on this wall. Instead, rows of small heraldic shields hung above inscribed numbers.

Aaron quickly understood. It was a memorial wall.

Following Lucian's gesture, he found the Salian family's shield among them.

Father. Mother...

Aaron fell silent.

In his memories, his father had always been a rigid, domineering, unfeeling tyrant. He could barely recall a happy moment. What remained were insults, beatings, curses, and mockery. They had fought like enemies, again and again, until both were bloodied and one of them gave in.

Unfortunately, his father had never compromised. More unfortunately, neither had Aaron.

That had continued until both his father and mother died in battle, and Aaron was finally free of them.

When Aaron thought of his father, he could hardly claim to feel heartbroken. At most, there was a faint sadness. The man had given him life, raised him, and taught him basic swordsmanship. Beyond that, every memory was painful.

"Do you need a moment?" Lucian might have misunderstood.

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

At least that kid once had something like that. But I...

"Whew. No, 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. He had met a true god. He had laid plans with the meager resources at his disposal, entered the palace, and matched wits with the Princess Regent to win an opportunity. Mentally, he was now a middle-aged man of fifty.

He accepted his father's death easily, because there had been little to cling to in the first place.

Farewell, my cage.

Yet as Aaron stood in the hall of honor, looking at the place where his father had served, fought, and lived, it felt like a lifetime ago.

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

"Manuel was loyal and diligent. A model knight." Lucian stroked his thick beard and gave him the standard answer.

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

Lucian seemed to know something about it as well. He did not press the matter, instead taking Aaron and Disma to his office.

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

"From the moment you become a recruit, at least within this fortress, you're no Viscount. You're a recruit. Your nobility and your faith don't matter. My job is to make you a capable knight, someone of use." Lucian leaned back. "If I could, I'd have you live in the fortress dormitory."

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

"I understand." Aaron did not mind. He had thought about this long ago.

It was common practice in the Realms to send one's children to another household for a time. Nobles sent their sons to other nobles, craftsmen to craftsmen, merchants to merchants, and even farmers to farmers.

Besides saving the cost of feeding another mouth, an important reason many people sent their children away was to teach them independence and help them break their excessive dependence on home.

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

Even outside the fortress, no one with a lofty title would dare show disrespect to a Purple Dragon Banneret.

If Aaron could not grasp something that simple, he might as well hurry back to the Sallyan Residence.

"I already know you have a talent for sorcery. You'll train here four days a week, and on the other two, the royal family's magic instructor will teach you," Lucian continued. "Until that instructor arrives, though, you'll report to the order for training every day except Sunday. You may go home only when I say you can."

"Whatever you order, I'll do it, mentor!" Aaron shouted without hesitation.

"Good! That's the spirit!" Lucian roared even louder, blowing his own beard upward. "Welcome to the Purple Dragons, recruit!"

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

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

"You have two senior trainees. You've already met one of them. Disma is the second." Lucian pointed after Disma. "I have three knight trainees under me now."

This world had no exact equivalent of the terms for senior and junior disciples. People generally used "brother," "fellow student," or "fellow apprentice," or, if they were close, simply "mate," "buddy," or each other's names.

There were no distinct terms for senior and junior trainees, male or female. Aaron searched his Common vocabulary for ages before settling on "senior fellow student" for Sir Reynard.

Wait. Reynard is the first senior, and Disma is the second. Why do those names sound so familiar?

Aaron was puzzled.JPG

At noon, Lucian held a grand welcome gathering for Aaron in the great hall and introduced him to his acquaintances.

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

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

"Well, hello there, brother Ian," Aaron said with a smile, his voice rising and falling theatrically. "A pleasure to meet you for the first time!"

"You..." Ian's face soured further. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unable to find a reply amid the laughter.

"Hahahaha!" Everyone laughed together.

"...Watch yourself," the Grand Inspector muttered.

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

"High Justiciar Lucas Enmecha." A sturdy, bald man with a stern face and hooked nose nodded to Aaron.

"Master Clothier Bell Stefaniak." The kindly elder, who had a slight paunch, patted his belly in friendly greeting.

"Castellan of Marsember and Admiral Bidrin Joule." The weather-beaten man in a naval cap drained his mug of rum.

"Castellan of Thunderstone Faril Rahlarson."

"Castellan of Cliff Keep..."

The long list of names left Aaron's head spinning, but he greeted each person in turn. With Lucian making the introductions, these officers who held important positions in the order spoke with him, whether for Lucian's sake or his father's. Most were friendly.

A flicker of delight rose in Aaron's heart.

This was a network. This was what decades of connections could give him. The relationships his father had built over his years as a Purple Dragon Knight were finally proving useful.

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

If he had stayed away, those ties would soon have frayed and eventually disappeared.

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

It was something neither a thousand nor ten thousand gold coins could buy.

Since he intended to operate in Cormyr from now on, he needed to make use of every connection.

His family's network, his father's contacts, the Lady of Silver's connections—all were valuable assets.

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

With that in mind, Aaron filled a large cup with red wine and tapped the table twice to signal that he wanted to speak.

The dozen or so people present stopped to listen.

"No, I have no 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 are all my dearest friends, my own flesh and blood!"

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

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

Banneret Lucian rose too. Ignoring the wine soaking his great beard, he put a hand on Aaron's shoulder. "It's a shame our young friend, Aaron Salian, son of Manuel, wasn't with us before."

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

"From today onward, he joins our ranks. Let 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 crowd in the great hall chanted his name, bringing the welcome gathering to its peak.

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

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

"Without a doubt. That charm, that power to move people, that strange magic with no record of it anywhere—there's no mistake. He's a Godspawn, just like me!"

"Then what do we do?"

"Kill him. Take the divinity within him and turn it into my power!"

"I 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 everyone! Fellow EDG fans, let's cheer them on one more time!

(The end of this chapter)