Volcano Kommorte leaked hot ash into the sky in the distance, marring the gray skies with a charcoal scar. The anger of the volcano-god was constant these days, demanding constant appeasement and sacrifice to ward off cataclysmic eruption. Cataclysmic at least for the locals of Pinto, the island upon which Kommorte smouldered.

A lone figure leaned against the taffrail of the merchant ship sailing towards Pinto. He was slender, with swarthy skin and black hair coiled up into a knot on the back of his head. Days-old stubble threatened to become a proper beard if not cut back soon.

His violet traveling robes protected him from the occasional salty spray. He seemed poised and confident, but also bored. Like merely existing was effortless. From his lilac-accented sleeves he produced a long, straight pipe and detached the bowl before retrieving a packet of dried herbs that he began packing into the bowl.

Orryn Vanadar was on vacation. He could indulge in as much of the heaven-grown herb as he wanted. But he sighed and drew from a second bag containing a cheaper — but he swore flavor-enhancing — blend of herbs he'd gathered in Creation during his travels. Just because he didn't have to worry about being sober for now didn't mean he could be irresponsible with his salary.

Orryn Vanadar was also not on vacation. He was inhabiting the resplendent destiny "Dynastic merchant." Most of the passengers on the ship fit that description, and it was one that proved useful for Vanadar in the past: merchants were generally allowed through checkpoints and into cities and nobody wanted to incur the wrath of the Scarlet Dynasty.

Well, not in the past. It'd been a liability more and more frequently since the Empress disappeared five years ago, and many of the lands conquered by the Dynasty began questioning its presence as it began the slow collapse under its enormous bureaucratic and logistic weight without a strong leader on the throne.

There were other destinies he could adopt though, and Pinto was still loyal to the throne. It wouldn't be a problem. He couldn't wait until they reached the island though. Even better than a merchant, once you'd reached a destination, was "naive customer." Then he'd really be on vacation.

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For a few days anyway. There was a true purpose for his visit: recruitment. Eighteen years ago his partner and mentor mysteriously disappeared. Amusing that a Chosen of Mercury, mistress of Journeys, would ever be lost, Vanadar eventually allowed himself to joke. But her successor was fated to Exalt soon.

He took a long drag of his pipe and let his thoughts begin to drift. Fifty years ago after he'd first Exalted he was worried he'd lose the ability to gain any sort of enjoyment from his favorite vice. When he discovered that he could get just as intoxicated without any of the usual downsides he jokingly referred to it as his Third Breath. His old partner laughed at him. She'd been his mentor too, a sort of assigned journeyman-apprentice situation that worked out.

After everything the two had been through, after 32 years of friendship, romance, heartbreak, and reconciliation, he doubted her replacement would be able to measure up. But he needed to see her again, even in a new life. Even if almost nothing of her was left.

For 18 years he investigated her disappearance and monitored the Loom of Fate for her Exaltation's return. After interviewing Pattern Spiders, charting constellations, consulting omens, and even following leads delivered in his dreams, he'd put together a thorough dossier on her inheritor.

They'd be found in the Wavecrest Archipelago. An island chain of dozens of islands covering thousands of square kilometers. If it was true, it would be the smallest area ever calculated for the apperance of a new Sidereal Exalted prior to their Exaltation. By a matter of days. Assuming their Exaltation was as dramatic and visible as they typically were there was a good chance he'd see it on the horizon.

But even that accomplishment was minor compared to the second piece of information he'd managed to uncover. He hadn't even had a chance to report it to the Bureau before he left: he'd learned it in a dream his first night sailing.

A full name, given and family: Ryoga Hibiki.