Dragon Tooth Tavern

On the first day of June, 1360 by the Dalelands calendar—a Wednesday, and the fifth day since Aaron had begun studying under the young Sorcerer lady—the Chaos Star flashed through his mind during meditation. By Thursday afternoon, he had finally broken through.

His Sorcerer level had risen. Instead of casting three first-level spells between rests, he could now cast five.

With it came a rapid grasp of the Realms' magic.

The young lady's personal guidance had finally freed Aaron from the restriction that kept him from casting the Realms' magic, greatly expanding his spell list.

Aaron's current spell list was:

Cantrips: Charm Person, Fire Bolt, Shocking Grasp, Light, Guidance, Mage Hand.

First-level spells: Chaos Bolt, Slaanesh's Reverie, Lash of Slaanesh, Tzeentch's Pink Fire, Tzeentch's Blue Fire, Disguise Self, Expeditious Retreat, Tasha's Hideous Laughter, Color Spray, Chaos Grease.

Second-level spells: Slaanesh's Tongue (unavailable), Tzeentch's Lightning Bolt (unavailable).

Yes, as Aaron's abilities grew, more spells had surfaced in his mind. One devastating spell, Tzeentch's Lightning Bolt, had already appeared there.

It was an exceptionally powerful attack. A direct hit would be no less devastating than a third-level Fireball, and its target would also have to resist the lightning's stunning and corrupting effects. Someone without a strong enough will could easily be knocked senseless; someone without a strong enough body had a chance of mutating.

Tzeentch's Lightning Bolt had one drawback, though. This second-level spell struck from above, blasting a circular area up to five meters across. Once the target area was chosen, the lightning took five seconds to reach the ground.

It dealt tremendous damage and came with a powerful disabling effect—a formidable spell by any measure.

But five seconds was a little long. Casting it by itself would almost never score a direct hit. He would need to lead the target or hold them in place, and either approach demanded skill.

How did Aaron already know how powerful Tzeentch's Lightning Bolt was?

Because the young lady could cast it too! After their first experience had brought their souls into sync, Aaron discovered that the magical pathways formed by their bloodlines let her share her magical knowledge with him. He could share his own knowledge with her in return.

"Wow, this is so exciting! Aaron, can you feel it? The resonance between us has opened up a whole new world. New magic, new power!"

Dressed in a swan-and-pear-blossom short dress adorned with emeralds and sapphires, the delighted young lady jumped up and clung to Aaron like a koala. Excitement brimmed in her sweet golden eyes. "If you share your magic with me, I can use it too! I can feel a whole new world opening before me. Magic is wonderful!"

Her champagne-colored low heels with butterfly ribbons lay haphazardly by the door. Her slender legs, sheathed in sheer gray spider-silk lace stockings, swung back and forth with excitement.

"I'm glad you can use it." Aaron smiled and nodded. Studying magic these past few days had been a pleasure.

"You're so exciting, Aaron! I thought teaching you was going to be such a hassle!" Charlotte clapped her hands, flopped onto the bed, and rolled around. "Who knew Aaron could become my little brother?"

"And haven't I gained a big sister?" Her fragrance was intoxicating.

"Heehee. Aaron, where did you learn your recipes? I've lived in the Realms for years and never seen anyone make dishes like yours! And Divine Soul Sorcerers—so far, I've only met two: you and me!"

"Heehee! I'm so glad I came back. Alusair is so boring. Endless work, endless meetings, and she's always wearing that stern face. You're nothing like her, little brother. We can study magic and make delicious food together!"

"As long as you're happy." Aaron glanced at the sky outside the window. The setting sun hung over Dragonmere. "I should go. See you next week, sister."

"Mm. See you next week, Aaron!" Charlotte was reluctant to part, but she had never been one to dwell on sadness. The thought that they would meet again next week soon lifted her spirits. She got up, came to Aaron's side, and held out her hand. "Promise me we'll create even stronger magic together!"

"I promise, sister." His handsome face turned earnest as he clasped her soft hand.

The moment their palms touched, both began to glow. The platinum light around Charlotte mingled with the violet-gray light around Aaron. Their souls had synchronized once more.

With the sunset at his back, Aaron left the manor beside Dragonmere. On the road back to Suzail, his thoughts remained on the mysterious young Sorcerer lady.

My sister?

Divine Soul Sorcerers were unusual even among Sorcerers. They possessed faint sparks of divinity.

What exactly was a spark of divinity?

No one knew. In the young lady's collection and the Royal Library, Aaron had found only scattered fragments.

One legendary Bard had described a spark of divinity as "that which sets a Deity apart from mortals"—the mysterious essence at the heart of a Deity. Possessing such a spark was what distinguished a Deity from a mortal.

One example was the previously mentioned "God of Art and Reptiles," Fander-Dragonthorn. A founder of the Harpers—who later withdrew after his excessive arrogance led to a grave mistake, then reconciled with them through the mediation of other Deities after his ascension—he was said to have absorbed the spark of a fallen Deity and somehow become a god himself.

During the Time of Troubles, the cunning Rogue Cyric was also said to have ascended by slaying the Dead Three and taking their sparks of divinity. Other accounts claimed he had won the favor of the overgod Ao by recovering the Tablets of Fate.

Some said a Deity could grant a mortal a spark of divinity, allowing them to ascend as a subordinate god. Others said mortals who helped preserve the balance of the cosmos and completed epic adventures were more likely to earn Ao's favor and receive one.

The rumors were a contradictory jumble.

One thing Aaron knew for certain: each of the four gods had placed a sliver of divinity inside him. They had not granted him power through a pact.

That was why he was a Chaos Sorcerer, not a Warlock.

According to Charlotte, a Divine Soul Sorcerer grew stronger by awakening the power of that divine spark and learning to wield it. As the spark developed, the Deity's power and spells would appear directly in the Sorcerer's mind. They would learn more and more magic, both Divine Magic and arcane.

Yet Aaron understood something else just as clearly. The more deeply he developed the four gods' powers, the easier it would be for them, far beyond the universe, to notice him and sense where he was.

Opportunity and danger came together.

As for Cosmic Magic, its essence lay in following the sun, moon, and stars, drawing on the timeless laws that governed the turning cosmos to strengthen oneself. Its power ebbed and flowed with the tides of energy.

By following those laws, Cosmic Magic could channel magical power into close combat—and physical strength into magic!

Move with the laws. Unleash the power of the cosmos!

Interesting. This is far too interesting.

Magic really is fascinating!

Aaron drew his standard-issue longsword. As he channeled magic into it, violet-gray mist spread across the blade.

Let's try this sword out!

The next day, when Aaron finally returned to the Purple Dragons, Havrel stopped him at once.

"Well? Dear Lord Sallyan?" Havrel wore a sly grin and gave him a knowing look. "How was it? She didn't disappoint, did she?"

"I lost." Aaron spread his hands without a trace of embarrassment. "Thoroughly. Round up the boys, Havrel. Drinks are on me tonight."

"Oho! You hear that, boys? Aaron Sallyan is very pleased with his beautiful magic tutor!" Looking as though his suspicions had been confirmed, Havrel burst out laughing and clapped his hands. "He's buying tonight! Dragon's Tooth Tavern in the Lower City. The Water of Amn awaits! Crazy Friday!"

"Yeah!" the recruits cheered.

Aaron quietly noted that most of them had agreed to come.

"In the army, the group is everything."

—Purple Dragon Knight Regulations

In Aaron's experience from more than thirty years in his previous life, belonging to a group did not mean giving it your whole life. Nor did a group always represent everyone's interests—or even most people's.

In the army, though, the group truly was everything.

Fitting in mattered. In battle, it determined whether you could trust someone with your back.

Losing a small wager would bring Aaron closer to the others and give him a chance to make contact with the Dragon's Tooth Gang. It was a fair trade. If a little money could win him a few comrades he could rely on, he would gladly pay it again.

A day's training ended amid eager anticipation. That afternoon, Aaron also made a point of speaking to Disma.

"Go if you want. What's it got to do with me? If you like hanging around with them, then go." Disma rolled his dead-fish eyes, utterly unconcerned.

"Reynard still isn't back?" Aaron asked as he changed clothes.

"Shouldn't be much longer. That stinking old man's trials always have a time limit." Disma turned and walked away before Aaron could say another word.

"Everyone's ready. We're just waiting for you." Norrington, the Paladin, watched Disma leave, then turned to Aaron. "That senior of yours is a strange one."

"He's just too proud." Aaron sighed softly. "I think Banneret Lucian was right. If you want to be a Purple Dragon Knight, you have to prove you deserve the title. If you only want the title to prove something..."

Aaron left the thought unfinished.

The recruits had assembled: nineteen including Aaron. Two others had business elsewhere and would not be joining them. Aaron noticed that both were Suzail locals.

With Aaron and Havrel leading the way, the recruits left the Purple Dragons' fortress after training and headed for the Lower City.

The Lower City was nothing like the clean, orderly Upper City. It was filthy and chaotic, with a strange smell hanging over its streets. Refugees from Arabel gathered at alley mouths and on corners, waiting for food aid from the Princess Regent.

"Arabelans everywhere down here." Havrel, the shipping minister's son, walked with his hands behind his head. Restless as ever, he squeezed in beside Aaron and asked with a touch of presumption, "Aaron, can I just call you Aaron? We're brothers, aren't we?"

"Of course." Aaron was also considering the value of befriending Havrel.

Havrel's father, the shipping minister, was a close confidant of the Princess Regent and unquestionably loyal to Alusair. As for Aaron... Though he was a great noble, he was currently under the Princess Regent's direct authority. The royal family paid his wages and had recommended him for recruit training. The princess had even arranged for the young Sorcerer lady to tutor him one-on-one.

More startling still, the royal family was paying for those lessons.

How expensive was a magic tutor?

At the going rate, teaching a first-level spell cost twenty-five gold pieces. A second-level spell cost a hundred, and a third-level spell three hundred. Prices only climbed from there.

Whatever Aaron thought of the situation, outsiders already saw Aaron Sallyan as marked by the princess's favor.

The Sallyan family had little influence left in Suzail, while Havrel's father was one of the city's most powerful officials.

"What happened to the Arabelans is terrible, and I do sympathize. But their presence has seriously disrupted order in the Lower City. Look around: filthy streets, crowded alleys, sewage in the gutters, streetwalkers on the corners. Honestly, Aaron, picking this place for a gathering was a bad idea. Why not the Upper City? I know some excellent bars up there, and..." Havrel leaned close and lowered his voice. "They have Elf women!"

"..." Norrington, walking beside them, heard him and muttered a complaint. No one caught what he said.

"Sorry, brother. I mean, Arabel is a great city. What happened to it is a tragedy," Havrel quickly added. "If there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

"We fought. We suffered losses. We fled. We're grateful Suzail took us in, but this isn't the end. Suzail isn't our home. One day we'll return and kill those damned Orks and their Great Khan, Tugin. By Tymora, I swear it." Norrington's voice was cold. "Just be a Suzail man, Havrel."

Havrel spread his hands. He had brought that on himself.

"If we're inviting all our brothers, we need to think of everyone," Aaron said at last. "We're soldiers. A Purple Dragon Knight's duties don't begin and end at the palace gates."

He had a point. Both Havrel and Norrington nodded.

He's worth knowing better.

Dragon's Tooth Tavern was easy to find. Dozens of iron chains bound a huge dragon's tooth to its signboard, while a broom and sign hanging by the entrance made its purpose clear.

The Lower City was dirty and disorderly, but the influx of refugees had also given it a rough vitality. The recruits all wore swords. Few people in the district were foolish enough to trouble armed nobles, and even the beggars dared not crowd around them for alms.

Despair and hope existed side by side, as did fear and vitality. Nothing captured the complexity of humanity better.

But when the recruits entered the tavern's main room, they found a group of professional soldiers already seated inside. The anchor emblems on their uniforms made their allegiance clear.

Navy men!

The Purple Dragon recruits' gazes sharpened at once.

The newcomers had caught the soldiers' attention too. After a moment of confusion, hostility appeared on their faces.

The army? What are they doing here?!

Sorry for the late update!

Current protagonist level: Level 2 Chaos Sorcerer / Level 2 Fighter