The governor’s mansion was grand, yes, but somehow felt smaller inside than Daniel had imagined. Some part of him trained on movies and cartoons thought that the leader of a city like this belonged in a palace or a castle. But this was just a house. Quite a nice house, with servants and all, but still a house.

The guard brought them to a cozy parlor and told them to wait, that the governor was busy and would see them as soon as she could. Fine by him. It gave Daniel some time to gather his wits about him and prepare to act the role of duke once again. Hopefully, this meeting went better than the last.

As he glanced around the room, Daniel noticed a suit of armor displayed prominently, along with several weapons adorning the walls. There were other pieces of artwork and sculpture too, just as he would expect in the house of a wealthy and important person, but these weapons caught his eye.

They were not particularly ornate or pristine. They had chips and scratches, and the armor was a haphazard mix of pieces, some in far better shape than others. More often than not, its left side did not match its right.

While they waited, Taur sat fidgeting, eyes fixed on the ground by his feet. Daniel imagined he likely wouldn’t have been involved in much diplomacy back home. He reminded himself to ask more about the duties of the master huntsman. He’d been close enough to the duke to call him friend, and had been part of the group to go with him into exile and even survive the conflict that had driven Arnica to that ill-fated ritual in the cave.

Arnica herself appeared quite comfortable, lounging on a soft chair with her legs crossed, eyes coolly scanning the room. Her gaze met Daniel’s and held it for several seconds. Those deep brown eyes betrayed few of the thoughts passing behind them. After the brief slip of her mask earlier when she had expressed her anger, she had thoroughly replaced it.

Daniel broke eye contact awkwardly, and soon he felt drawn back to the weapons and armor. They felt out of place in a room like this. They were used, not decorative, and they lacked the ornamentation he would expect to see of weapons placed on a mansion wall. He stood up from the seat he’d taken, approaching the wall with the display to get a closer look. He stretched out a hand, nearly running his fingers along a deep scratch in the armor, but he held himself back.

“That’s grandma’s armor,” a young, high voice called out from behind—and slightly below. Daniel turned around to see a skinny boy of no more than seven or eight standing in the middle of the parlor. He hadn’t even noticed the kid enter.

“Is it?” he asked, trying to sound pleasant despite his surprise. “And who is your grandma?”

“She’s the governor,” the kid said, chin held high with pride, “but back then she was a really good fighter! Just like me.”

“Just like you?” Daniel asked, amused.

“Well not yet, but soon! I’m gonna use grandma’s armor and everything!”

At that moment a young woman rushed into the room, bolting straight for the boy. She grabbed him gently by the shoulders and gently chided him. “Don’t bother the guests Fiad. They’re very important.”

“But I felt something,” the child protested, “that one has magic!” To Daniel’s surprise, the boy turned and pointed directly at Arnica. The necromancer’s eyes widened slightly, but she betrayed no other signs of agitation.

“Does she?” the woman—a servant by her attire and demeanor—replied. “Well that’s business for her and your grandmother, isn’t it? Come along, it’s late.” She led the reluctant boy out of the parlor, though Daniel noticed she gave Arnica more space than necessary, shooting furtive glances her way all the while.

Fiad turned and waved just before disappearing around the corner. “Goodbye,” he said.

Daniel gave a little wave back. Taur grunted.

“He sniffed you out, Arnica,” the big man said. “Were you using anything?”

“No,” she replied, “I wasn’t. It’s odd that he could detect the potential, though not unheard of. He’s a rare talent I’d wager, one the governor had best be careful about. Many mages value their anonymity and aren’t too squeamish about crossing lines to protect it.”

“It’s fortunate then,” Taur said, “that he ran into you rather than one of those mages.” They exchanged stares.

“Yes,” she finally said, “quite fortunate.”

At that moment an older woman strode into the room with a servant on her heels. She was nearly as tall as he was, with salt and pepper hair and crow's feet around a pair of eyes whose clever brightness age had not touched. The servant was carrying a sheaf of papers and struggling to keep them together.

“Duke Telann,” she said with a curt bow, “I’d apologize for the lack of fanfare, but we’re in a bit of a crisis at the moment, and you seem to be traveling rather humbly yourself. Rest assured though, it’s good to see you again.”

Unbidden, memories welled up in Daniel’s mind. They weren’t crystal clear or movie-like in quality. They were like his own memories, indistinct, and yet they felt so sure, so real. He remembered the day he—or Telann—had met this woman. She had been a little younger then, as had he. It had been an exciting and stressful time. His own office had been new to him, and she had come to introduce herself to the new duke and fortify relations between her city and his domain.

More even than the images, he was overwhelmed by the emotions associated with the memory. That anxiety mixed with joy… Telann had admired this woman! It was as if there was a corona about her, like a hero from myth. It was infectious, and Daniel couldn’t help but grin.

“Deirdre,” he said, remembering her name, “the pleasure is mine. I’m sorry to come here so late at night.”

She waved off his apology. “It’s no trouble. There’s trouble afoot, yes, but I’ve done what I can for the moment. Now, all I can think to do is worry, and trust me when I say I’m already doing plenty of that. Now what brings you to my doorstep, Duke? I’ve heard the rumors about Rhud of course. I can offer haven for some of your people here, though we will be stretched a little thin so long as the army is in the area”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, “I’m glad to hear that, but actually, we came here to talk about the army. We heard the shots, and your people seemed… well… violent.”

Deirdre sighed. “Yes, they are. I can’t blame them either. Do you know what happened?”

Daniel shook his head.

“A few of those greenhorn musket men got themselves into a bit of a scuffle with some of my local roughnecks. One must have gotten scared, and he used his weapon. That got everyone riled up, and his squad mates followed his lead.” Governor Deirdre shook her head. “I don’t know what kind of discipline lord Diallos has in his command to let his soldiers carry those things around so casually. We didn’t have toys like that back when I fought, but I like to think we would’ve minded ourselves better.”

She stared at the armor displayed on the wall, and Daniel thought he caught a hint of nostalgia in her weathered features.

“You fought in the unification wars,” Taur said, standing politely.

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“That’s right. I even fought against Rhud, for a while. Then, later, by your side.” She chuckled. “I have to say, things were always easier once you folks were with us.”

That was it. Faint memories. Stories he’d been told as a child at someone’s knee. Someone he couldn’t remember right now, however hard he tried. But he knew that some of those stories had featured this woman in those wars, the ‘unification wars’ Taur had called them.

“Things are getting pretty rough out there,” Daniel said. “We heard some people talking about trying to storm the sixth’s camp themselves.”

“They sure want to,” Deirdre agreed, “the sixth is protecting its own, and they stopped responding to my runners a few hours ago.” She sank into one of the parlor’s softer chairs, rubbing her temples. “Could you talk some sense into Arlan, you think?” she asked. “Those soldiers committed a crime; he’s got to know they should stand trial.”

“I could try, but I doubt he’d listen,” Daniel said sheepishly. “We had a bit of a falling out over a duel.”

The governor barked a laugh. “It’s far too easy to have a falling out with that man, isn’t it? At least tell me you won?”

Daniel shrugged. “Kind of? He won technically, but I did break his nose.”

“Serves him right,” Deirdre said through her chuckle. “It makes both of our lives more difficult though.”

The woman from before who’d led Fiad away came back then with another man at her side. She bent down and whispered something to Governor Deirdre, then scuttled away. The man stayed. He was clad in long, elaborate robes that covered his hands and gave his appearance a certain ethereal aspect. His hair and beard were blonde, not yet given in to gray, though from his face it seemed that day must not be far off.

Deirdre turned to Arnica. “It appears my grandson said you’re a mage.”

“Yes,” Arnica said, “he’s right.”

Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps the duke isn’t traveling so humbly after all. Konti doesn’t see too many sorcerers of note. It’s nice to know there’s someone around who isn’t on the sixth’s payroll. What’s your name?”

Arnica let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “I’m called Arncia, though I’d been trying to travel discretely until now. I’m free of imperial employment, and I’d like to remain that way.”

“Rest assured,” Deirdre said, “The sixth have made no bones about burning their bridges with me this night. I have a mage employed myself, you might want to make his acquaintance. Meet my son’s tutor, Eijah.”

The robed man bowed deeply. “If it’s no trouble,” he said with a smooth, serpentine voice, “I would take your measure, Arnica of Rhud.”

Arnica stared down her nose at him for a moment, then she stood and rose to her full height. Somehow, she seemed a few inches taller than she actually was. “Fine,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “Take it, and I’ll do the same.”

Something in Daniel’s gut twisted, and his body was wracked with pain. His mouth filled with the taste of rust, and he struggled to remain standing. In an instant Taur was at his side, steadying him.

The sensation was familiar, the same thing he’d felt when he first woke up in this world and Arnica had probed him with her sorcery. As he focused on the sensation, he could actually feel it suffusing him from two directions. From Arnica, and from Eijah, Fiad’s tutor. Neither aura was quite so intense as what he’d felt that first night when he’d been the direct object of the magic, but he realized that there was a subtle difference between them. They were like different flavors of discomfort.

Their magics are different! He realized, though both were equally alien to him. He hoped the tutor was focused enough on Arnica to not explore him. Who knew what he would do if he realized the strangeness of Daniel’s soul?

“Are you okay, Telann?” Deirdre asked.

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” Daniel said, waving off the concern. “Just some sickness I picked up traveling. I think I ate the wrong kind of berries or something.”

Deirdre narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing. The two mages held the same poses as before, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Eijah?” Deirdre asked. “What of it?”

“Loathe as I am to say, she is my superior in strength,” Eijah admitted, not taking his eyes off of her. “Though, she conceals some of it. What do you have in that pouch, young lady?”

Arnica’s nostrils flared, and Daniel feared another outburst. He was pretty sure he knew which pouch the man was referring to, but he thought better of saying anything. The sorceress kept her cool, and from her reply he wouldn’t have been able to guess she’d been perturbed at all.

“Nothing of your concern,” she said.

The man shrugged, then turned to the governor. “She’s a soulburner, my lady.”

Whatever the man had just said pushed Arnica across the line. “Watch yourself!” she snapped.

Daniel’s eyes darted between them. He hated missing so much context. If only those memories were more convenient with their timing. Though he had to admit, the downside Dira had pointed out to releasing them all at once didn’t sound that appealing at all.

“Enough, Eijah,” Deirdre said. “I don’t need another quarrel right now. Lady Arnica is a guest, and you’ll need all the help you can get if those imperial mages decide to bloody our noses.”

The governor glanced around the room appraisingly. Then, she clapped her hands, as if she’d come to a realization. “No offense, but you lot look like you haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep. Am I wrong?”

Daniel and Taur shook their heads. She nodded, unsurprised.

“It’s settled then. I think closing our eyes for a bit will help ease everyone’s nerves. You’ll stay the night in my guest rooms. The city watch has the situation well in hand for tonight; there’s a curtain wall between the mobs and the people they’re mad at. And by the hour when lord Arlan stopped communicating, I assume he’s gone to sleep. I don’t want to let that capital tart get his beauty rest while I go sleepless, so I have a mind to follow his example. I suggest you do the same.”

She pointed at Daniel. “Duke, falling out or not, I could use your help tomorrow dealing with him. This situation won’t go away on its own, and I’d rather it not end with the imperials calling us rebellious and putting the city under siege. Can I count on your support?”

“Always,” Daniel said.

He wasn’t completely sure why he said it. It just seemed like the natural thing to say. He felt a little ashamed afterward, like he’d made a promise he knew he couldn’t keep. The governor wanted Duke Telann to help her. All he could offer was Daniel, a university student with a duke’s face and a few extra memories knocking around his skull.

Regardless, the answer seemed to satisfy her, and she gave him a hearty nod.

“My servants will see you to your rooms then. Lady Arnica, if I could have a word with you before you go?”

Arnica nodded, and the two women walked into the hall together, leaving Daniel and Taur with Eijah and the servant. The mage offered a wide, bright smile but no words. The servant gestured them out of the parlor.

“If you’ll follow me sirs…”

As they walked, Daniel whispered to his companion. “What was that about soulburners?” he asked.”

“A vulgar name for necromancers,” Taur replied quietly. “It is not entirely inaccurate, but they misunderstand.”

They arrived at the rooms and thanked the servant, but Taur kept Daniel out in the hallway with a hand on his arm. He continued.

“I don’t want you to share their misunderstanding. I don’t know much about magic, but I do know this. The most powerful rituals cannot be done under a single mage’s power. But every soul has immense energy just by virtue of living, or having once been alive. Necromancers can use that to accomplish things otherwise impossible, consuming the soul in the process.”

“Like fuel?” Daniel said, aghast. “Souls as fuel?”

“It is voluntary,” Taur insisted, “it is a sacrifice. Arnica carries the souls of her once-companions in the tokens within her pouch. The souls of ten powerful necromancers, a vast wellspring of energy. They would each have given their lives for her when they were alive, and they each make this sacrifice now, the very last thing they have to give. Of the parties involved, Arnica is the one most hesitant to carry it out, though she would tell you otherwise.”

“The most powerful rituals,” Daniel wondered aloud, “like the one that brought me here?”

“Yes,” Taur said mournfully. “She thought the sacrifice was worth it. A soul for a soul, trading one friend’s ghost to save the life of another.”

“No wonder she hates me…” Daniel whispered, leaning against the door. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Taur’s eyes.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Taur replied. “She’s just lost. As am I, and as—I think—are you. What we’re doing here will be good for her, I think, though she doesn’t think so. Good for you too, perhaps.”

“And good for you?” Daniel asked Taur.

The man smiled sadly. “My purpose is not so high, my du—” he caught himself, “…Daniel. What will be good for me is some fresh air. I don’t want to tarry here overlong if we can help it.”

Daniel made to protest, Taur was selling himself short, but Taur cut him off.

“Let’s get some sleep as the governor says. You will be busy tomorrow, I think.” He gave Daniel a firm pat on the shoulder, then abruptly turned and entered the smaller of the rooms, leaving Daniel the other.

Daniel stared at the closed door for a long while, then sighed and entered his own. The room was lavish, a far cry from the inn they’d contracted earlier. There was a window, and as Daniel looked out over the city, he saw a crowd of people near the gate. He could hear their shouting in the distance, but luckily, he saw no large fires or signs of extreme violence. Perhaps the city watch did have the situation in hand. For now, at least.

With a flutter, a raven alighted on the windowsill, cocking its head to stare straight into his eye. There was something familiar about it, though he couldn’t place exactly where from. Ravens weren’t exactly easy to tell apart, to him at least.

As he got comfortable in the bed, Daniel convinced himself that it was probably just a trick of the brain. Some sleep would surely do him good.