Lord of Spells from Faerûn

"I can't believe it," Midnight said, "your family."

"No," Cyric said.

"Is there anyone alive?" Midnight asked softly.

"Not at all." Cyric's tone was so bitter that Midnight was surprised. "I have been an orphan in Zhentil Castle since I was a child. I was discovered by slave traders on the street. A wealthy family from Sambia bought me. He raised me as his own until I was ten years old. One night I heard them arguing like parents would, but the subject of the quarrel was not that they were unhappy with each other, but that they were embarrassed by me."

"Our neighbors heard the truth about me, and my 'parents' thought their secret was a shame. I confronted them and threatened to leave if I was such an embarrassment." Cyric Mi He raised his eyes and pulled his lips back into a cruel smile. "They didn't stop me. The journey back to Zhentil Keep was long, and I almost died on the way several times, but I kept growing."

"I'm sorry, Cyric," Midnight said softly.

"I learned what to do to survive, even if it meant taking things from others. I eventually reached the pit called Zhentil Keep, where I wanted to learn about my origins, but of course I couldn't. Any answers. I became a thief and quickly attracted the attention of the Thieves Guild. The leader, Marek, took me under his wing and taught me all the tricks, and I learned quickly."

"For a long time, I was eager to please that black-hearted villain and obey every command Marek gave me. It took me years to realize that it took more and more effort to get his precious, slight nod of approval. The more it costs.”

"When I turned sixteen, Marek's attentions turned to a new man, the same age as I was when I was brought back from the streets. I realized I was being taken advantage of and made plans to leave. The Guild learned of me plan, and put a bounty on my head. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I had no one to help me escape Zhentil Keep. I was no longer of use to the people I once thought were friends. If it wasn't for Gifted with fighting skills, I simply couldn’t escape that city, and the streets were stained red with blood the night I left.”

Imric quietly watched Cyric's self-narration. He saw in the thief what a fragile soul he was, sensitive and lacking in love, forcing himself to gain a foothold in the cruel adult world.

Perhaps it was precisely because of this that it led to that ending. Imric sighed softly as he thought about what would eventually happen, hoping that Mystra's prophecy was not accurate.

"I like dogs," Cyric said hopefully, not knowing whether he was talking about dogs or who he was talking about.

"You see, dogs are jealous and loyal, timid and brave, timid and cruel. How realistic and pitiful they are."

Midnight lowered her head and looked into his eyes, and said softly: "What happened next?"

"I used everything I learned and spent eight years like a stray dog. But wherever I went, people made little difference, and poverty was as common as discrimination and luxury as splendor. I hoped to find friendship and equality, But I found only traitors and exploitation. I thought I could escape the betrayal of my youth and find a place where integrity and tolerance prevailed, but that place did not exist, at least not in my life."

Midnight hung her head, "I'm sorry for your pain."

Cyric shrugged, "Life is pain, I've accepted that. But don't pity me just because my vision is clearer than yours, pity yourself, you will soon find out that this is the truth."

"You are wrong. It's just that there are many things you haven't seen yet, Cyric. You have been blinded from the joys that should be in your life."

"Really?" said the thief, "You mean love and laughter? Or a good woman?" Cyric smiled, "Love is also a lie."

Midnight brushed her hair from her eyes, "Why do you say that?"

"When I was twenty-four years old, I realized that my life had no direction and meaning, so I returned to Zhentil Castle again. This time I achieved some results in searching for my roots. Someone told me that my mother had a relationship with her when she was young. One of the Zhentil officers fell in love, and when she got pregnant, he kicked her out, claiming the baby wasn't his. It was homeless people she knew who took care of her until I was born. Then my father came back Yeah, killed her, sold me, made a lot of money. It’s a fairy tale romance, isn’t it?”

Midnight took a deep breath and said nothing. She tentatively stretched out her hand, wanting to touch Rick's dark and thin face. There was no reason, just an inexplicable move.

Cyric was silent. He did not continue to speak. Next to him was Kelanvor, who had fallen into a deep sleep, and Imric, who was secretly watching them from a distance. In this silent night, there were only him and the female mage in front of him. The cicadas chirping in the summer night emit a crisp sound through the window, as refreshing as the cold fingers of midnight.

"Now that we know each other's secrets, you don't need to feel pity for me."

Cyric changed the topic in a pretense of ease, perhaps to hide the flutter in his heart. He had long noticed that beneath Kelanvor's carefree appearance, there was a hidden affection for the person in front of him. He was even smarter than Kelanvor. Know yourself, that's his best friend.

"I don't know what you mean," Midnight said, trying to hide her worry. "What secret do you know about me?"

"Only one, Ariel," Cyric said.

"You heard my real name." Midnight's heart trembled. Ever since she learned her destiny, she had already decided to bury her name. Wait, what is her destiny? Midnight had a twinge of doubt, but quickly brushed it aside.

"I didn't mean to hear it," he said. "If I could forget it, I would, but it's a beautiful name."

Cyric swallowed hard, "No one alive knows what I told you. If you want to destroy me, I

If I can't stop you and inform the guild of my whereabouts, I will be dead. "

Midnight caressed his face. "I wouldn't think so," she said. "Secrets are always safe among friends."

Cyric tilted his head, "Are we, friends?"

Midnight nodded.

"How interesting," said Cyric, "my friend."

The gentle moonlight of Selûne filtered through the window, filling the room with silver frost. He had already fallen asleep at midnight, and only Cyric still had his eyes open, staring at the back of the person in front of him.

——

The next morning, when Kelanwo woke up, he found that the table was already filled with all kinds of food.

Bacon, fried eggs, white bread, barbecue, thick soup, the steaming food exudes charming aroma, attracting the taste buds of adventurers.

"Did you do this, Imrik?" Kelemvor asked in surprise.

Imrik chuckled. This melee barbarian never imagined how magical things magic could do. He opened a dimensional bag and took out the food stored in it one by one.

"I don't need to do it. In fact, they have all been frozen in time by me and stored in the dimensional bag." Imrik said as he lifted the seal on the food. These were all made using level 4 psychic powers. The essence of time extracted by the [Extraction Technique] has their protection, and any item has an eternal shelf life. Even the heat of these foods when they are freshly baked is preserved.

Midnight and Cyric soon woke up, and neither of them said a word about what happened last night, as if nothing happened, and joined in the breakfast.

"It's delicious. Did you make this, Imrik?" Cyric asked the same question.

Imrik said helplessly: "No, it was made by Xiaozhu Sanjing's tavern."

Kelanvor said while eating: "Imric used some time essence to preserve these foods in advance."

Midnight widened her eyes in surprise and said, "What kind of magic is this? I've never even heard of it."

Imrik smiled and said: "This is not a spell, but a psychic power."

"Aurora and Spirit Cultivator!" Midnight exclaimed, looking at Imric with an expression that looked like he was looking at a dangerous person.

Kelanwo interrupted Midnight. He picked up a pork sausage, put it on Midnight's plate and said, "Eat quickly, this is delicious."

Midnight threw the sausage aside excitedly and said: "Don't disturb me, Imrik, do you have psychic powers? Then can you use teleportation to send us to the Valley of Shadows?"

Imric smiled awkwardly and said, "I can't do this."

Midnight lowered her head in disappointment. She wanted to rush to the Valley of Shadows immediately, meet Elminster and complete the goddess's mission.

Imric looked at the female mage's reaction with cold eyes. Of course he knew the psychic teleportation technique, but he did not want to interfere with their schedule. Since the magic network had collapsed to the point where the teleportation spell could not be cast, then this was naturally arranged by fate. of.

not to mention.

Imrik looked into the distance, which was the direction of Zhentil Keep.

The army of the King of Darkness is coming, and the three people in front of them will get the first clay tablet of destiny.

I made up the plot between Midnight and Cyric, but I am justified. I personally think that in the original work, Cyric should have had feelings for Midnight, but Midnight just didn’t like him, and Kailan With Wo's existence, Cyric didn't want to get involved even more.

Of course, whether Midnight likes Cyric is just my guess. After all, she is also a person who shows mercy everywhere.

In addition, the plot of the three people turning against each other will not be changed. This will affect all subsequent major events in Faerûn. They are the central characters. Some people suggest that it is impossible for the protagonist to change this. After the modification, almost a lot of subsequent plots will no longer exist.