Note: Here's another AU Drizzt and Legolas bestie story. Warning, this one is going to be dark! This one is going to be about brotherhood! Drizzt doesn't know he has a long lost brother but he's going to find out soon enough, and this is also about Dinin's second chance. Just like my other stories, this is AU not canon. I am not a magic expert either, I am just kinda interpreting things in my own way.

This story takes place during my own blotched version of the books "Legacy" and "Starless Night."

Warnings: dark! Angst, major character death, trauma, ptsd, implied sexual assault, torture

Chapter One

20 years ago

Ky'lor Dro'xundus woke up in his student chambers, the same way he woke up every morning for the past ten years. As he sat up in bed, he glanced across the room at Jhul'net Vandree who was already lighting a candle in preparation for the day's lesson.

"Did you forget what day it was?" Jhul'net asked as he paused with his preparations to give Ky'lor a knowing look.

Ky'lor shook his head in response as he got out of bed and got into his wizard robes and quickly picked out the wands he would need for the day. He moved to stand beside his roommate, mentally pushing the sleep from his mind as he looked over the candle set up.

"Narbondel is an hour away from its mid point," Jhul'net informed him urgently. "You should already be awake before master discovers you." Ky'lor thought about the central time piece that told time in Menzoberranzan. Mid point translated to about six in the morning.

Ky'lor didn't have to be told twice. Master Dhaun'phyr Mizzrym had been the wizard overseeing their training for Ky'lor's time in the academy. He was a stern, uncompromising drow whose emotionless calm was intimidating. He had agreed to take Ky'lor into his class even though the youth didn't belong to a noble house, and for that, he was certainly grateful.

Jarlaxle, the eccentric mercenary, had used his influence to get Ky'lor into this year's class. The leader of the houseless rogues had raised Ky'lor from infancy and no one in Menzoberranzan had cause to defy his will.

Ky'lor concentrated on the candles and closed his eyes and mumbled a few incantations, his voice perfectly in sync with the other drow's.

The two of them had just finished when Raval burst into the room. Ky'lor blinked, opening his eyes and looking over his work. The row of black candles flickered with blue flame, a black darkness in the center.

"You fools!" their older roommate sneered as he hurried over to inspect their work. "That spell had better be correct in every way! We are going before the master today and if you mess anything up, you'll be very sorry!"

The younger students took the berating stoically. They were used to it by now. Ky'lor was nervous but confident as he looked at his candle. It was a simple spell that turned a flame into a vacuum. He reached a finger towards it, hoping to feel the sucking sensation as the vacuum tried to pull on him. He felt it, but he was concerned that it wouldn't be strong enough for the master's liking.

"Is Hounaste already in the master's arena?" Jhul'net asked, glancing up at Raval. The other drow only growled.

"Of course he is! It's where the two of you should be by now too, we should be prepared for our end-of-year exam!"

Ky'lor knew it was time for the yearly exam. It came every year, but this year was important because it was his tenth year. He and his classmates were ranked according to how long they had been at Sorcere. Hounaste Oblodra was the senior most student of the four of them, having been studying for nearly 30 years. He was nearing graduation. Raval Xolarrin had been there for 20, and Ky'lor and Jhul'net had joined at the same time and were now nearing their tenth year.

Ky'lor thought he had developed a friendship with Jhul'net. They were about the same age. He was the fourth son of House Oblodra, a house known for their psionic skill. But he was shy and spoke very little about his house.

Ky'lor was eager to meet nobles. He had grown up in the secretive world of the Bregan D'aerthe, in the lawless Clawrift part of the city. He had never been away from the clawrift before entering the academy and nobles rarely frequented the area.

Jarlaxle was the only father the young drow had ever known. He was overly protective of the boy's safety, rarely letting him leave the small shelter cavern that the mercenary called his home. He had even been opposed to letting Ky'lor attend the academy, but seeing the boy's determination, he reluctantly agreed.

The greatest fear Jarlaxle had for the boy was that they might discover he wasn't full drow. Ky'lor was half dwarf, a secret that his father had warned him never to reveal to anyone, not even to the Bregan D'aerthe members. Jarlaxle had taught him how to use magic to remove any hair from his face and he was able to lie and tell his classmates that his shorter, thicker stature was the result of birth defects. But he struggled. He couldn't levitate, something that drow nobles could do, and he couldn't effectively conjure an orb of darkness, something that all drow, even commoners, could do. Ky'lor's orbs were always a little too see through.

"Let's get going," Jhul'net's voice roused Ky'lor back to the present. Ky'lor carefully took a candle into his hand, as did Jhul'net, and the two followed Raval through the halls of the school. They were all dressed in their robes, purple and black robes with white strips on the sleeves which were added for every decade they survived. Ky'lor and Jhul'net were about to receive their first stripes, provided they survived the day.

The students came into the chambers where they had spent most of their lives these past ten years. Raval and Hounaste had more freedom, they often served at the master's side, practicing more advanced spells. Often this gave them authority over the younger students.

Master Dhaun'phyr was seated at the end of his long table, Hounaste was seated at his right as the three of them marched in.

"Ahh come in my students," said the stern drow. "Be seated. We are going to test your abilities in illusion, divination, scrying, telekinesis, elemental magic, and evocation. If you pass, you continue. If you fail any test today, you go to the spider queen."

Raval had earned the right to sit at his master's left. But Jhul'net and Ky'lor placed the candles in front of Dhaun'phyr before kneeling on the floor beside his chair, keeping their heads down.

Dhaun'phyr studied the candles carefully. Ky'lor waited nervously. This would be the first of many tests he had to pass today. The candle was a simple spell of elemental magic. To transform a form of energy- fire- into the absence of matter and energy- a vacuum. Ky'lor was most afraid of the evocation test. These spells were meant for combat. Conjuring fireballs, magical darts, and other things that hurt others. Ky'lor didn't like those sorts of spells, especially since they had to be performed on live subjects. At first, he and his classmates had practiced on animals. Rats, bats, and other underdark beings.

Eventually, the students would be practicing on goblin slaves. Ky'lor was confident that that particular test wouldn't be until his second decade, but it still unnerved him. He didn't like hurting anything, even the animals. But he wanted to be a wizard and he certainly didn't want to be sacrificed to the spider queen. He still hated evocation.

And if he passed into his second decade, he would be granted the right to visit Eastmyr. This was a neighborhood of commoners. Better than the outlaws of the clawdrift, and far better than the slums of the Braeyrn, but not as good as the more upper class areas where the nobles frequented.

So far in his life, Ky'lor had only seen the Clawdrift and Tier brache, the cavern which housed the academy complex. He wasn't allowed to leave the academy grounds, not that he had time to, his life revolved around studying and serving his masters.

He and Jhul'net were planning to explore a Eastryn pub. And maybe, just maybe, Ky'lor would get to see Jarlaxle for the first time in 10 years.

But for now, he had to get passed the tests…

Ky'lor may not have been able to see the drow he called father, but Jarlaxle often saw him. The mercenary sat at his desk, comfortable in the cavern he dwelled in, members of Bregan D'earthe meandering around him.

A highly skilled wizard, Jarlaxle used his crystal scrying ball to peek in at Ky'lor, often, just to make sure he was progressing and that he was still alive.

"He is making good progress," Nedolin commented. Jarlaxle nodded as he and the other Bregan D'aerthe member watched the crystal ball. "Dhaun'phyr has commented that he is perhaps one of the most gifted wizards Sorcere has ever seen."

"His tests will become harder," Jarlaxle reminded him. And there was no denying that. The eccentric mercenary took one last look at the scrying tool before it faded out. Maybe he would go meet with his son after the tests. And maybe then he would tell him the truth. That Ky'lor was not his son.

"Be well, son of Zaknafein…" Jarlaxle murmured too softly for anyone to hear.