A Moment's Ease, a Lifetime's Regret

P.S. I set my alarm for four this morning, only to wake up and get served a mouthful of shit. I'm still so angry my chest hurts. I need a day to recover, so there won't be an update tomorrow.

Aaron had expected the old geezer's tests to be strict.

"So what are Banneret Lucian's tests usually like?" Aaron pressed.

"No idea. The old geezer's tests never make sense." Disma seemed reluctant to say more. "He tests everyone differently, and I promised I wouldn't tell anyone about mine. All I can say is, sometimes he won't let you do what you're good at."

"I'm guessing Banneret Lucian didn't test you in combat," Aaron said, understanding.

"Hmph!" Disma snorted, drained the last of his soup, and tossed down his spoon. He picked up his tray. "I'm done, recruit. Take your time."

Looks like I hit the mark. Aaron smiled helplessly as Disma walked away without looking back.

Banneret Lucian had taken on only three trainee knights. If Renard passed his test, that would leave Disma and Aaron. How would his father's close friend train and assess him?

One thing Aaron knew for certain: Lucian would not go easy on him.

He would have to take it one step at a time.

Aaron ate at his own pace. Unlike Disma, he did not rush through everything. In fact, the Viscount ate at the Knight Order every day, even staying for dinner. That impressed the others, who realized he really had come to train.

Plenty of great nobles' children had attended knightly courses with an entire retinue of servants in tow.

What none of them had probably guessed was that Aaron ate lunch and dinner there because both meals were free. They were served buffet-style, too, so he could go back for more.

I love free food! Whenever Aaron remembered that his meals cost him nothing, his appetite improved, eating felt more rewarding, and even training seemed less exhausting.

Every meal there was money saved!

The food was not especially delicious, but there was plenty of meat, fresh vegetables, and fish from the Dragonmere.

Training a warrior was that cheap. With enough meat, a suitable instructor, and sufficient practice, a warrior could quickly become battle-ready and make a suitable ().

Aaron kept eating as the discussion among several fellow recruits nearby grew more animated.

He remembered their names: Muir, Roswell, and Maddom. One was the son of a master blacksmith in Marsember, and another the son of Seabury's finest Master Tailor. Aaron knew little about Maddom, but judging by his appearance, he was probably the child of a minor noble from the kingdom's borderlands. He had undergone basic military training, though his clothes were shabbier than the other two's.

The three did not seem particularly close, but the atmosphere among the Purple Dragons all but forced outsiders like them to stick together. Otherwise, they would struggle to get by surrounded by locals.

Aaron heard them talking.

"What are you planning to do tomorrow?" Muir asked lightly. "I can't wait to have a proper look around the capital. Want to come?"

Tomorrow was Sunday, the recruits' first day off.

"You go ahead. I need to pick something up in the Lower City. Honestly, the butter and cheese here are so bland that a week of them has been unbearable. Lady Firehair, please save the food here!" said Roswell, the Master Tailor's son. "I can't wait to eat some Elturel Gray Cheese."

Elturel? Aaron remembered a city by that name on the Sword Coast. Around the time he was born, a powerful angel had supposedly led a celestial army against Hell there. Afterward, Paladins and Clerics had come to the city and expanded it, hoping to make it a holy place on earth.

Elturel Gray Cheese was famous throughout the Realms. It was inexpensive, selling for just six silver coins a pound, or 454 grams. Blue with black veins, it kept for an exceptionally long time and had a strong, spicy flavor.

"You like Elturel Gray Cheese? Earth Mother above, I can't stand that spicy taste."

"That's the whole point! I wouldn't eat it without the spice!"

"But how did you get hold of Elturel Gray Cheese?" Muir had good reason to ask.

The Time of Troubles two years ago had devastated the Realms, while the disappearance of the Lady of Wealth had dealt a crushing blow to trade. Many trade routes had closed, whether by choice or necessity. Cormyr had also suffered heavy losses during months of the Goblin Wars. The Princess Regent had managed to restore trade in a few necessities, but replaceable everyday goods like Elturel Gray Cheese had been overlooked. There were plenty of other cheeses, after all, and importing gray cheese offered little profit.

"Shh. Listen. There's a place called the Dragon Tooth Tavern in the Lower City. It's a base for the Dragon's Tooth Gang. Their boss, Marlon, can get his hands on plenty of cheap smuggled goods. Gray cheese is just one of them."

"Lots of things are cheaper there than anywhere else. It's worth a look if you're interested."

By then, the three had nearly finished dinner. They seemed to realize this was not the best conversation to have in the knight order's great hall. The Purple Dragon recruits glanced around, saw Aaron bent over a pork chop, then agreed on a time for tomorrow and went their separate ways.

The Lower City? The Dragon Tooth Tavern? The Dragon's Tooth Gang? Marlon?

Aaron searched his memory desperately. Marlon's name sounded familiar.

Where had I heard that name?

Think. Think.

That's it! Aaron remembered.

Marlon of the Dragon's Tooth Gang! Someone in the Three Crowns District had mentioned him. Not because of smuggling, but because the gang could take care of cats.

Yes, one of the decrees the Princess Regent had issued after taking the throne forbade harming cats. But what was a noble supposed to do after getting tired of a pet cat, or when a vicious stray attacked and the law forbade fighting back?

The Dragon's Tooth Gang offered to "handle" such problems. Hand over the cat, and they would take it out of Cormyr on a fishing boat. Then the cat would "accidentally drown and get eaten by fish."

That was why the gang had a reputation even in the Three Crowns District, right beside the palace: they could "handle" cats.

That was beyond playing with fire. It was a business that risked their lives. Only the Lady of Silver knew what would await them if the Princess Regent found out.

Aaron said nothing. Once he had finished eating, he got up and left the knight order.

It was now late May, 1360 by the Dalelands calendar.

The next day would be his first rest day since joining the knight order. It was Sunday, though followers of the Lady of Silver always prayed to the moon at night. As a chaotic good goddess, Selûne asked little of her followers. She had few harsh doctrines; sincerity mattered most.

The next morning, free at last from training, Aaron slept until the sun was well up. He ate the breakfast his aunt had left him. The weather was beginning to warm, so he changed into a short-sleeved shirt and trousers, then sat in the study with pen in hand, considering what to do next.

Sunlight shone outside, and shadows swayed beneath the trees. The study was peaceful and quiet. A glass goblet etched with flowers held fruit juice chilled in well water, adding a touch of elegance to the morning.

Aaron reviewed what he had gained over the past week and what he wanted to achieve next, writing each point down.

He had successfully joined the Purple Dragons, met the Princess Regent, and secured a magic tutor for himself. He had also made use of his father's connections and made some friends.

Those were the week's gains.

Viscount turned to the goals he had not yet achieved.

First was the Warlock Mepham. After Princess Regent Alusair believed Aaron's account, Cormyr issued a kingdom-wide warrant for him. But Aaron could provide so little identifying information that he had not even seen Mepham's face. The search was proving difficult. A week had passed without a useful lead. All they knew for certain was that the Warlock remained within the kingdom's borders.

Next were the enemies in Suzail who had targeted him. The failed assassination had prompted the Queen's Blade to search the entire city, driving them into hiding and bringing their activities to a halt. With nothing to trace, Aaron lacked the strength and resources to find them. For now, he could only stay on guard.

Finally, there was the matter of his powers.

Aaron leaned against the soft back of his chair and held out a hand. A knot of twisting purple-gray energy intertwined with slender, multicolored flames above his palm.

The Child of Chaos wielded four great powers.

He had unlocked more than fifteen percent of Slaanesh's Power. If he kept up his current pace, learning to use it fully was only a matter of time.

He had unlocked less than five percent of Tzeentch's Power. Even that came from the Lady of Silver, Selûne. Her divine portfolio touched slightly on freedom and change, so her blessing allowed Aaron to wield a trace of Tzeentch's Power.

Nurgle's and Khorne's Powers, meanwhile, remained tightly sealed, with no sign of opening.

For now, those two powers were beyond Aaron's reach. He did not even intend to advance as a warrior yet. During his six months of Purple Dragon recruit training, he only wanted to master his existing warrior abilities and learn a few more combat techniques.

What he relied on most was the power of Chaos running through his veins: his Chaos Sorcery.

Until he unlocked Khorne's and Nurgle's Powers, Aaron had neither the desire nor the talent to advance as a warrior.

Why else was he still only an apprentice-level warrior after eighteen years of life and family military training?

He simply had no talent for the Path of the Warrior.

That was precisely why his father Manuel had been so furious. Before this, Aaron had been thoroughly mediocre.

As for unlocking Khorne's and Nurgle's Powers, Aaron had no real idea how to do it. One thing was certain: killing a few people or spreading a few plagues would never be enough to unlock such mighty powers.

Perhaps it would take an overwhelming shock. Slaanesh's Power had opened only a sliver at the brink of death, amid an extreme frenzy of despair and the desperate will to survive. Even then, he had needed the full healing power of Selûne, a goddess of intermediate strength.

So when is my magic tutor going to show up?

Aaron sat in the soft-backed chair with a rueful smile. After a week of training, he finally had a day off, yet the thought of going back tomorrow already irritated him.

No. I can't think like that. I still have so much to do. I can't stop. I can't rest.

Aaron sprang up, took his pen, and carefully wrote a sentence on the parchment.

"A moment's ease, a lifetime's regret."

He blew the ink dry and admired his work.

He would have that great saying framed.

Six months of recruit training was a little too long to spend waiting passively. He had to do something in the meantime.

He had to find an opportunity!

"Cousin, come here a moment."

"What is it, Aaron? I'm busy."

From behind his desk, Aaron watched Robert's impatient expression and shook his head inwardly.

Robert was clearly planning to go out. Life was easier for him now: his father had a job, and Aaron contributed money toward household expenses. Robert could spend nearly all his wages on himself. Whenever he had a day off, he went out to eat and drink lavishly until the money was gone.

Maybe Westerners just don't value saving as much as Easterners do, Aaron thought, considering the cultural difference. Westerners loved putting tomorrow's expenses on credit cards, not to mention those notorious payday loans. They seemed naturally inclined to spend.

Then Aaron remembered the mortgage from his previous life and decided his ancestors had been wiser after all.

As for this cousin of his, Robert was arrogant, boastful, and free-spending. He particularly liked introducing himself as "Viscount Salian's cousin." His abilities were nothing special. He handled paperwork well, could do arithmetic, and had fine handwriting with a quill, but that was about it.

At least Robert knew his comfortable life depended on Aaron. Though visibly annoyed at being called over, he obediently sat down under Aaron's sharp gaze.

"How are things at the guild with the warrant for the Warlock?" His cousin was not entirely useless. As a scribe at the Adventurers' Guild, Robert knew what was happening there.

"Oh, that. The reward's 180 Golden Lions, but you gave them far too few clues. Plenty of coin-hungry mercenaries want the money, but none of them knows where to start." Robert spoke without much concern. "They did catch several Warlocks. None turned out to be the one you described, but they were thrown into the dungeon anyway."

"Uh..." Aaron felt rather sorry for them.

Still, as he had noted before, most Warlocks were hardly good people. The vast majority of their Patrons were supremely powerful beings aligned with evil, so Aaron did not feel too guilty.

"Anything else? Any major events, enormous bounties, or new discoveries the mercenaries are talking about?" Aaron asked. "Other than hunting dragons, of course."

Slaanesh's Power still craved fame. It wanted great achievements and a name known to everyone.

Aaron was now only a little short of advancing his Chaos Sorcery!

"Now that you mention it, cousin... there is something big," Robert said, finally remembering. "The Earl of Arabel, Mirman-Laur, is assembling a large army to reclaim her lands from the Orks. She's already put out word that she'll be hiring adventurers. It's a major undertaking."

"Oh?" Aaron's eyes lit up. "Tell me more!"

There's going to be a major military campaign?

What better chance could there be to earn fame and merit?

Team Top Esports really knows how to get under people's skin. I'm so disgusted I could throw up. I need a moment to recover.

If you want to blame someone, blame Team Top Esports.