Preparing for an Adventure

During a three-week adventure, Eleanor advanced in her calling. She could now channel the divine power of Selûne, the Lady of Silver, twice in a single battle, and she had learned a rather interesting Twilight Domain spell: Leomund's Tiny Hut.

The spell created a hemispherical space with a ten-foot radius. Inside, it was dry and comfortable, with room for up to nine people. Any creatures and objects within the hemisphere when the spell was cast could pass through it freely, while those outside at the time were kept out.

It was perfect for adventuring. For a cleric with a passion for cleanliness, it could hardly have been more useful.

Eleanor's first thought after learning it was to show Aaron. She returned to Suzail with Asha, the barbarian woman, only to learn that Aaron had been confined for a bar fight.

See? Aaron couldn't manage without me. The troublemaker had landed himself in confinement the moment I left!

I needed to keep a close eye on him!

For the first time, Eleanor made use of the authority Lady Silverstar had granted her and had Aaron brought out of confinement.

I was his watcher, after all.

If anyone was going to discipline him, it would be me!

With that in mind, Eleanor went to Aaron's knight instructor, Banneret Lucian Bachmann.

At first, Lucian found her request baffling.

Since when did the Church of the Silver Mother have any right to interfere in the Purple Dragons' internal affairs?

But when he learned that Eleanor had come on Lady Silverstar's orders, the Banneret fell silent for an unusually long time. Then, under Grand Inspector Ian's meaningful gaze, he ordered the confinement-room door opened.

The instant Aaron emerged, the heavy chains hit the floor with a clang. He let out a long breath, and his face lit up like clouds parting before the morning sun.

Without a word, Aaron wrapped both arms around the bewildered cleric, his face full of emotion.

"You!" Eleanor struggled to make him release her. "Let go, Aaron!"

For some reason, although she was unquestionably stronger than Aaron, she simply could not push him away.

Her voice rose despite herself. Surely he could tell she was about to get angry!

After that brief rush of excitement, Aaron relaxed and released Eleanor. In just a second, the dejected prisoner became an elegant, composed viscount. He clasped the cleric's hand, looking deeply moved. "My dear Miss Eleanor, have you finally come to see me?"

The guard at the door could not help laughing. Grand Inspector Ian rolled his eyes toward the fortress ceiling, wondering whether a stone might fall and crush the fellow.

Disma stopped whistling halfway through a tune and turned away in disgust, as though Aaron were something revolting.

A faint chuckle escaped Lucian. He stroked his beard to hide his embarrassment.

"Honestly, the moment I'm away, you get yourself into trouble!" Eleanor's pretty face flushed scarlet. Beneath her mask, her lips and the visible half of her face turned a soft pink. She tried to pull her hand free, but Aaron held it tightly, so she settled for a scolding tone. "I'm telling you now, I can only help you this once."

"I'm so glad you came to save me!" Aaron pretended not to hear and promptly cast himself as the victim. "I was trapped in a lightless hell, enduring unimaginable torment. I felt like a tree about to wither. Without you to nourish me, I didn't know how I could go on living!"

A powerful wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over everyone.

The kid really knows how to handle women! Disma thought, rubbing the goose bumps on his arms.

"You!!!"

Eleanor's strength surged. Red-faced, she wrenched her hand from Aaron's grasp and instinctively reached for the Hand of the Moon at her waist. Unfortunately, her warhammer was not there. "Shut up, Aaron! Or I'll hit you with my hammer!"

"Then hit me! I owe you my life anyway!" Aaron pressed his palms together. "If it'll make you happy, I'm willing! If you're the hammer, I'll be the anvil. Strike me as hard as you like!"

He was not wrong. The cleric had saved his life.

"A-anyway, you're fine, so I'm leaving!" Eleanor had no idea what to do anymore. Burning with embarrassment, she felt the heat spread from her cheeks down her delicate, swanlike neck.

How could he say that in front of everyone?

They were all watching!

Yet somewhere deep inside, an indescribable pleasure surrounded her.

She realized how deeply she had entered his life. His family and his faith—and now his instructor and his brothers-in-arms.

They all knew her. Watching Aaron would be much easier from now on!

She allowed herself a little private delight.

"Eleanor! Don't forget it's Sunday! Stay, and we can go together later."

The cleric had barely turned to leave when Aaron caught her again. She stayed, but she truly did not dare say another word.

Heaven knew what mortifying thing he would say next if she did.

Only after settling matters with Eleanor did Aaron notice Sir Reynard. "Reynard! You're back? Did you pass the trial?"

"I did, thankfully!" The beaming Paladin nodded and gave Aaron's arm a hearty slap. "You're very, very, very welcome here, Aaron! You're one of us now. Brothers for life!"

"Reynard successfully destroyed a Cult of the Dragon hideout beneath Marsember. He did well. I hereby declare that, starting today, Reynard is a full Purple Dragon Knight. Aaron, Disma, you'll need to work hard." Lucian stroked his beard, unable to hide his pride.

"Tch!" Disma looked away.

"I'll learn from my senior!" Aaron said sincerely.

Reynard was a Paladin who had sworn the Oath of Devotion. He had vowed to devote his entire life to justice and order across the multiverse. Unless he broke his oath, he would always put his own interests last.

Paladins who took the Oath of Devotion were powerful and noble. Every one of them who committed life and faith to the eternal struggle between good and evil deserved respect. They were the unbreakable backbone of this world!

Aaron admired and respected them, but deep down, he knew he did not want to become that kind of Paladin.

That was the principle he had set for himself.

I could stand with justice. I could do good where I was able.

But I would never become justice itself!

No one could guilt me into that.

"Thank you, Instructor. I only did what I was supposed to." Reynard accepted everyone's congratulations with easy grace, his hands clasped behind his back. "What makes me happiest is that my junior has decided to join us. Two people are stronger than one, and three are stronger than two. Every bit of progress lets us contribute more to justice in this world!"

"I've never had to worry much about this boy. It's good to hear him speak that way." Lucian nodded slowly, affection softening his usually stern face. He shot Disma a glare. "It shows your senior can now complete missions independently. Perhaps many things can be entrusted to him in the future. Heh heh heh."

Eleanor naturally respected Paladins too. She bowed slightly to Reynard in greeting, and everyone promptly asked the kitchen for extra dishes to celebrate his becoming a full Purple Dragon Knight.

Of everyone there, only Disma felt uncomfortable.

What kind of trial was that? If the stinking old man had given me the job, I'd have done better than Reynard!

The stinking old man was playing favorites!

After Eleanor returned, Aaron changed his ways dramatically. He stopped stirring up trouble and applied himself to recruit training and magic lessons. Each week, he spent three or four days training and two or three studying magic, traveling between the Purple Dragon Knights' fortress and the young lady's villa by the Dragonmere.

Since Aaron had no intention of advancing further as a warrior, he focused on physical conditioning, adventuring experience, martial techniques, and fighting in groups.

His once-scrawny frame gradually grew sturdy, with clear definition across his abdomen. His constitution improved a little, and he no longer looked like an ordinary, soft noble.

His new combat technique, "Slaanesh True Silver Slash," was also beginning to take shape. All he needed was a chance to use it.

After the bar fight, the recruits grew much closer. They traded jokes, insults, and crude pranks, especially the three who had shoveled manure: Havrel, the shipping minister's son; Norrington, a Paladin from Arabel; and Ramsay, the son of an impoverished border noble. Despite their different backgrounds, callings, and personalities, the three became good friends.

Aaron also earned the recruits' acceptance.

Notably, Aaron chose himself a nickname: "the Sorcerer Prince of Suzail."

Banneret Lucian promptly rejected the rather showy name.

"Are you trying to get assassinated more often?" Lucian said. "No. Pick another. I'll give you one that's amusing, catchy, and able to mislead your enemies."

"We'll call you 'Rookie,' the little Sorcerer rookie of Suzail." A peculiar smile appeared beneath Lucian's thick beard. "What do you think?"

"Good. I like it." Aaron did not object. Rookie meant a novice, and the name rolled off the tongue. It was mildly funny without being too insulting, and it could thoroughly mislead his enemies.

From that day on, the Purple Dragons had a "Rookie Salian" in their ranks.

When the nickname reached the royal throne, even the stern-faced Princess Regent paused her paperwork to give it a second look.

That was how recruit training went.

His progress in magic came much faster.

Under his Sorcerer instructor's guidance, Aaron first mastered the two most important Sorcerer abilities: Sorcery Points and Metamagic.

Sorcery Points were the fundamental difference between Sorcerers and Mages.

As everyone knew, a Sorcerer's power came from deep within the blood. Through charisma, Sorcerers connected to the source of the world, drew magical elements to themselves, then projected their will into reality to cast spells.

Thus, Sorcerers did not need to memorize spells. The spell structures already existed in their minds, unlike those of Mages.

A Mage could hold only so many spell structures at once, but with enough intelligence, time, and wealth, a Mage could learn an unlimited number of spells.

Sorcerers could cast any spell they knew whenever they wished, but many spells were beyond their ability to learn at all.

In theory, the two had roughly equal reserves of magic at the same level.

Yet a Mage's spellcasting was flexible and rigid at once. Mages could learn any spell, but once a spell structure was set, it did not change.

Sorcerers, on the other hand, could prepare a special form of mana within themselves called Sorcery Points. They could use those points to enhance spells they already knew through Metamagic, or even cast more flexibly when necessary.

It was as though every Sorcerer had an extra mana reserve.

And when it came to spellcasting, Aaron's talent was astonishing.

The boost from Extraordinary Charisma was immense. Aaron cast every spell thirty percent faster than a Sorcerer of the same level. Spells with casting times under two seconds became instantaneous, while his spells lasted twenty percent longer and had effects twenty percent greater.

Thanks to Extraordinary Charisma alone, Aaron's first-level Chaos Bolt dealt twice the damage of a first-level Magic Missile!

It was more powerful than the upcast Magic Missiles of many elite Mages.

"I don't dare imagine what will happen when my little brother learns Fireball." Those were the young lady's exact words.

Aaron even had twice as many Sorcery Points as an ordinary Sorcerer!

Then there was Metamagic.

Aaron's spells differed from the orthodox magic of the Realms. Every one of them had mutated. Where others could only cast by following fixed spell structures, Aaron could inject the powers of Slaanesh or Tzeentch that he had awakened into those structures, changing the spells to produce other effects: longer duration or range, no material components, additional effects, or extra summoned creatures.

Tzeentch's power was the clearest example. Injecting it into a spell structure produced an additional effect.

Take the first-level spell Grease. If Aaron infused it with Tzeentch's power, the grease would interfere with spellcasters in its area, disrupting the magical elements around them and greatly increasing their chance of a failed cast.

If he infused it with Slaanesh's power instead, the grease would turn sticky after someone fell, clinging to them and restraining them.

Metamagic was formidable not merely because of its added effects. Its real strength was that opponents would not be prepared for them.

In a duel to the death, no one would rush to attack an opponent who suddenly drew an unfamiliar, unconventional weapon and wielded it expertly.

It was like two swordsmen testing each other for a few exchanges before one pulled a firearm from his coat and fired without warning.

Aaron's Metamagic was that sort of thing. Who would expect a Chaos Bolt infused with Tzeentch's power to spawn several tiny Flamers of Tzeentch on impact, which then leaped onto the target to claw and bite?

Two months flew by like that. Aaron worked hard at both training and magic, and his strength grew rapidly.

Fortunately, he usually spent Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays with the young lady, while his time with the cleric fell on Sundays.

The cleric knew she could not help much with his training and rarely disturbed him. The young lady disliked outsiders and knew Aaron's entire family were devout followers of the Lady of Silver, so she never scheduled extra lessons on Sundays.

After two months, the cleric and the young Sorcerer lady had never even met. Neither knew the other existed.

In August, amid sweltering heat, a letter from the Lower City made its way through several hands to the Sallyan Residence.

It was time to go adventuring!

Go, EDG! Piglets, raise your hands to the sky!

This book is based roughly on 5E rules. To stress the point: roughly.

The protagonist's current attributes: level 2 Chaos Sorcerer / level 2 warrior.

Strength 15, constitution 15, dexterity 14, intelligence 14, wisdom 14, charisma 22.