First Blood

High above, in the realm of the gods, stood the Sacred White Courtyard within the Moon Gate.

This was the realm of the gods, the domain of deities.

In the Realms and throughout the entire Crystal Sphere, deities existed on a plane beyond mortals. Powerful or weak, they each governed their own concepts of existence, and through their interactions and conflicts, they set the universe in motion.

Every deity held at least one divine portfolio and was charged with spreading its ideals.

Yet a portfolio had never dictated how a deity acted. How they fulfilled its duties depended on how they understood it.

Take the former sun god Amaunator. To him, the sun meant majesty, law, justice, and order, placing him among the lawful neutral. After that ancient sun god fell for various reasons, Lathander understood the sun as hope, growth, dreams, prosperity, and a brighter future. He was neutral good.

Now, within the courtyard formed by two Sacred White Trees, beside a clear, lovely pond shimmering with moonlight, a visiting deity disturbed the peace that belonged to the Lady of Silver alone.

The visitor had fashioned himself as a middle-aged man covered in scars. Ghastly wounds crisscrossed his body. He was short, gaunt, and hunched, with red cords wrapped around his arms and a limp in both legs. Half naked, he wore only scraps of cloth around his waist, and his scalp was thinning.

It was an unusual image. Most deities chose forms that represented them or that they personally favored.

The visitor had not come to chat. The two had been arguing from the moment he arrived.

"No. Absolutely not, Ilmater. I don't care what you say. My answer is no." The goddess's beautiful voice rang with anger, making it clear how unwelcome he was. "He is my child. My child!"

"Lady of Silver, I have always respected you, and I still believe you will be a vital ally to us."

His voice was heavy with exhaustion. He sounded less like a deity than a middle-aged man working himself to the bone to pay the mortgage and support both his children and his aging parents.

"But that is no reason to shield the boy, Lady of Silver." The middle-aged man's tone was grave. "During the Time of Troubles, we risked our lives together fighting for peace across the multiverse. The Lady of the Night nearly destroyed our alliance of order, and she nearly hurt you."

"I know." Selûne turned her head away, refusing to meet Ilmater's eyes. Barefoot in her own divine realm, the goddess wore a moon-white chiffon dress the color of almond cream. "Let me stop you there, Ilmater. I know him. He has been tested ever since he was born. As far as I know, Manuel and Elizabeth's son has never been some divine child or the offspring of an ancient evil. I trust my judgment."

"Yes, we have never questioned that. But, respected Lady of Silver, you know Bane fell during the Time of Troubles, as did Torm. After the crisis, the Overgod recognized Torm's sacrifice and brought our most trusted companion back to life." Seeing that Selûne would not face him, the middle-aged man limped closer. "The Dead Three all fell, but now we face an enemy unlike any before: Cyric. He is more dangerous, more deranged, and more chaotic than the Dead Three."

"Cyric is not a matter between you and me. He is a matter for all the gods. Don't forget, Ilmater, the Overgod chose him personally. Neither of us has the right to question that." The Lady of Silver spun around, moonfire blazing in her eyes. "Gather ten Greater Deities and you can go to the Pole Star Encampment to call for the Dark Sun Prince's removal instead of coming to me. That is your freedom. I won't interfere!"

"But I warn you, Ilmater, and Tyr and Torm too! He is my child! I will never let you touch him!" the Lady of Silver declared fiercely. "That is my freedom! If you want a war between gods, then come! Stop wasting words here!"

"My child is under my protection, no matter what!"

Selûne's unwavering stance darkened the visitor's expression.

"I have a proposal. If we find enough evidence to prove your child poses a threat to the safety of the Realms, if that truly is the case, will you hand him over to us for 'proper handling'?"

That was the visitor's final question.

"You are free to do so. I won't interfere. But I have one thing to ask you." Selûne's manner was cold. "If your judgment is wrong, if you falsely accuse my child, I will not accept your repentance."

"...I hope your trust proves justified, Lady of Silver."

Faced with Selûne's unyielding stance and lacking any hard evidence, the visitor finally backed down. He waved a weary hand, and his image vanished.

As a lawful good deity, he could not simply do as he pleased like the chaotic good Lady of Silver.

He had only wanted to "examine" the boy and make sure nothing was wrong with him. He had not expected such fierce opposition.

It seemed they would need indisputable evidence, enough to convince everyone.

The visitor's image faded. Beneath the two Sacred White Trees, the pure and radiant goddess remained standing, her eyes closed.

My child, you won't disappoint me, will you?

"Wait!"

Aaron flatly stopped the barbarian woman from rolling up her sleeves and charging in. "Asha, I told you to follow orders!"

"How can you decide they're murderous robbers just from that puddle of piss?" Aaron snapped. "What if they're a passing merchant caravan? Travelers?"

"Tch. I'm telling you, Aaron, when you run into something like this in the wild, nine times out of ten they're bandits." Asha sounded just as impatient. "Why worry about wronging innocent people? If we turn out to be mistaken, we can just let them go!"

Aaron laughed. "Asha! Think about it. If someone jumped you without a word, beat you bloody, took your things, then realized they had the wrong person and apologized, what would you do?"

"What would I do? Make them suffer, obviously. I'd at least break their arm to teach them a lesson!" the barbarian woman said as if it were obvious.

And that's why nobody likes teaming up with barbarians! Aaron covered his face.

Among barbarians, there was a famous principle known as "Barbarian Economics."

"The blacksmith had a fine great weapon. Barbarian really wanted it!

But Barbarian had no money.

Barbarian borrowed money from merchant and bought great weapon. Great weapon was so good!

Someone came to collect debt. Barbarian had no money to repay it.

Why worry? Barbarian had great weapon!"

—Barbarian Economics of the Realms

After saying all that, Asha realized something was off. Her face, dark beneath its war paint, looked a little awkward.

Barbarians were never lawful, but they could be good. As a barbarian woman who was chaotic good with a neutral streak, Asha knew she had been wrong.

Wrong. A tiny bit wrong.

Just a tiny bit!

But she refused to admit it. She folded her arms and looked at Aaron and Eleanor, silently asking what they were going to do next.

Aaron was a little torn himself.

If their only goal was to finish their adventuring assignment, they ought to avoid fighting whenever possible.

But Aaron also wanted to see how well the three of them worked together.

Once you had a weapon in hand, the urge to use it was hard to resist.

"Let's go take a look, Aaron. I can smell a faint trace of blood in the air," Eleanor said, sensing something was wrong.

"All right, let's check it out." Aaron seized the chance and flashed the cleric a dazzling smile. "After all, Eleanor, how could I refuse a request from you?"

"...What are you saying?" The cleric gave Aaron a light swat on the arm.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting." Asha felt goosebumps rising on her skin. "If we're going, hurry up!"

"Let's go!"

They followed the footprints through the woods. Dense foliage screened out the midsummer sun, and the scent of soil and humus hung in the air. Thick branches and tangled roots spoke to the forest's age.

Cormyr had once been called the Forest Kingdom. One of the Realms' largest primeval forests had stood here, but as humanity expanded, vast stretches were felled. The great forest that had once covered the entire country was gradually cut into several parts.

The shrinking forest had angered many people, especially the druids of Father of Oaks's Church. They had repeatedly protested Cormyr's failure to protect the forests and covertly used various means—including violence and support for bandits, wild beasts, and goblins—to halt further logging.

In a small, shrub-covered clearing before a great tree lay two bodies, a man and a woman.

They looked young. Blood matted the woman's long golden hair, and despair and disbelief still showed on her face.

The man's mouth remained open. A sword protruded from his chest, and blood had stained the shrubs beneath him red.

A burly man in a green hooded cloak approached while straightening his trousers. He cursed at the two men guarding the bodies. "Fuck. Two broke bastards. Went on a honeymoon and didn't even bring anything worth taking. Why get married if you're this poor? He should've hauled cargo at the docks and she should've whored herself out at a tavern. They'd have made more money!"

"Brainless idiots, trusting strangers so easily. They were asking to get robbed. And they still wouldn't hand over their stuff even if it killed them. Fuck, they made me do it. Not my fault!"

"Hey, you two. Find anything?"

"Nothing!" The two guarding the bodies also wore green hooded cloaks. One licked the blood off his dagger. "Just a few gold coins. Oh, and a ruby ring. Thirty gold at most if we sell it."

"You bastards didn't pocket the good stuff while I was taking a piss, did you?" The leader grabbed one man's collar.

"We wouldn't dare, boss!"

"There really wasn't anything else, boss!"

The two underlings protested at once, shaking their heads desperately.

"Really?" The bandit drew his blade and slapped its flat against an underling's cheek.

"Really, boss!"

"Then pack up and let's go. Fuck. Another day with nothing to show for it."

With that, the men gathered their things and prepared to leave.

A short distance away, Asha stared smugly at Aaron behind a tree.

See? I called it!

"All right, you were right." A muscle twitched in Aaron's face. He really was short on adventuring experience.

"Get ready, Eleanor, Asha." Aaron raised a hand, and magic gathered in his palm. "Remember what I told you?"

"Treat every fight like it could be your last, and don't be afraid to lose!"

"Got it!" "I know!"

Aaron and the others were no experts at stealth. As they moved, the leader of the three bandits clearly sensed something wrong. He motioned for his men to put the bodies down and pulled a short blade from behind his back. "Who's there?"

No one answered him. But something did!

A streak of pink flame came howling out of the forest, about to strike him in the blink of an eye.

The bandit leader's face changed. He twisted away at once, dodging the strange streak of fire.

What happened next made his blood run cold.

After he dodged it, the flame split in midair into two creatures resembling forest sprites. They wheeled around and seized his neck and thigh. Searing pain shot through his nerves as the fire sprites opened their mouths and left two bleeding bite marks on his body!

What the hell were those things? The bandit leader had never seen anything like them!

Battle cry!

The barbarian was here!

Asha burst out of the forest.

Rage! Reckless attack! Great weapon!

The barbarian charged!

Her powerful muscles tightened, veins bulging as rage sent blood surging through her body. Already over six feet tall, she seemed to swell another size.

She lunged like a giant bear, thrusting her long halberd with both hands. Its blade tore through flesh, grievously wounding the bandit leader in a single strike.

And she was not done. Drawing on the strength of her rage, Asha followed with an upward slash that severed the arm holding his knife.

"Aaaargh!" Blood gushed out, and the bandit leader howled in agony.

Eleanor came right behind her. The cleric raised the Hand of the Moon, and a brilliant light from the Lady of Silver left one bandit underling dazed and blind. Then she swung her warhammer at the other.

"In the name of the moon, face judgment, murderer!"

But the second underling was ready. He rolled aside, evading her warhammer, then sprang up and tried to flee. "Help! We're under attack!"

Damn! The barbarian and the cleric both paled.

Was he going for reinforcements? Were there more bandits nearby?

Whoosh!

Three multicolored bolts flew out of the forest, traced graceful arcs, and struck the fleeing bandit's head. His skull burst apart.

In the distance, Aaron lowered his hand, still wreathed in multicolored light.

Since waking up, this was the first blood he had truly drawn.

Didn't feel bad!