It was two hours after Samuel had demolished Jyrok Fortress with his spell. He’d spent about half an hour of that time kneeling on the ground, having expended every last bit of his mana, but now he was strong enough to walk around. His mana recharged constantly, and he decided that now was the time to leave. Since the main part of the fighting was over, he knew he didn’t want to spend another night on one of those uncomfortable cots. Still, there was some business to attend to.
“We’ll have to send patrols along the coast,” He told his officers. “Just because we saw a few hundred of them in the fortress doesn’t mean that we got rid of them all. There could still be some hiding in the countryside to strike while we’re weak.”
They nodded in agreement, peering intently down at the sand map. Samuel had shifted it to show the massive creator where Jyrok had once stood, though on the map it was no bigger than an inch or two across. His officers were still a little anxious when speaking to him. Their view of him had been changed drastically by what he’d done, which was partially intentional. Samuel wanted the Mitene Union to be wary of him, to discourage further attempted invasions. Still, it was an unfortunate side effect that even his men would be slightly afraid of him now. He’d just have to work on reversing that opinion when he could.
“Lieutenant Moran, you are in charge after I leave,” he continued, his voice firm and untroubled. “I want constant, varied patrols. Don’t let any potential spies pick out a pattern.”
The officer he spoke to clapped a fist to his chest in salute. Edmund frowned thoughtfully and glanced up from the sand map to look at Samuel. “You’re leaving? Are you returning to Milagre, then?”
Samuel nodded in confirmation. “I’m spending the night in a comfortable bed. I was only here for the main fight. I’m not exactly fit to be a long-term commander.”
Edmund accepted his explanation without comment He bowed. “Well then. It has been an honor, serving under you. May the mother give her blessing on your future endeavors.”
Samuel returned the bow gracefully, then turned to leave the command tent. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon now, its golden rays slowly warming the air. He stretched his arms as high as he could over his head, barely resisting the urge to yawn. Much of the exhaustion of burning mana had remained with him, and he could barely keep his feet moving. That was enough, he thought. Time to go home.
With a quick message, he alerted Arthur to his arrival, then twisted in place. He was the only mage who did not need to be standing in a teleportation circle to use his system. He could arrive from anywhere, though he paid a little more for the expedience. He blinked, and he was standing inside the College Library. The shockwave of his appearance blew a few loose papers off the nearby desk, and an apprentice scurried over to pick them up. His High Priest, essentially his second-in-command, was standing beside the circle, back bowed in a polite greeting.
“Good morning, Lord Bragg,” Arthur Moran said. “I trust that your mission from the King was successful.”
“In a manner of speaking. The invaders have been dealt with.”
Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how the King would view his destruction of such an old and important fortress. Had his hasty plan set him down a path of trouble and consequences? He shoved the thought away, to confront later. Instead, he surveyed Arthur. He was nearly identical to the first Arthur Moran Samuel had ever met, the man who had been the steward of his estate. He was nearly thirty years younger, of course, but much of the first Arthur lingered about in the shape of his eyes and jawline. A stubborn appearance, which had served the steward well.
“I see,” Arthur replied as if he was vaguely aware of what Samuel had done. “Will you be returning to your home then, Master Bragg?”
One key difference between Arthur and his grandfather was how he addressed Samuel. The old steward had insisted on honoring Samuel and addressing him by his title. His grandson, however, simply respected him for his position. They were extremely close to each other in rank under Arcana, and so they could afford a more casual method of address. The apprentice nearby was not as casual. He nearly bent himself double as Samuel and Arthur passed him, offering a sycophantic greeting. Samuel ignored him.
“I’ll probably rest a while,” Samuel said. “Are there any pressing issues that need my attention before I retire?”
“There are two, as a matter of fact,” Arthur said. He had a coy grin on his face that made Samuel stop and frown. “First, you have a visitor. She refuses to leave, so I think it best you meet with her and find out what she wants.”
“Is it Sera again?” Samuel asked, giving vent to a tired sigh. “She seems convinced that I can’t look after Tomas on my own. Very well, I’ll deal with her.”
“Actually, sir, it is not Mistress Moran,” Arthur said. “It is-”
His words were cut off as the double doors of the library were thrown open. Two apprentices were there, looking harried and leading the way for a noble-looking elven woman with fair hair. She was immediately recognizable, not just by appearance, but also by the way she carried herself, not even waiting for the apprentices to formally introduce her. She swept past both stammering youths with a very impatient air, crossing the remaining distance between her and Samuel in three long strides.
“Ry?” Samuel asked. The surprise appearance was enough to shock some energy back into him. “What are you doing here, so far away?”
Ryllae Inaro, Chancellor of Stormbreak Harbor in the country of Zaban, had a slight smirk on her face as she peered at Samuel. Their eyes were almost on a level as she was just an inch or two shorter than him. But there was always something about her that made Samuel feel small. It could have been the way she dominated nearly every challenge put before her, and yet it could also have been her complete lack of shame. She could strong-arm just about anyone to do just about anything.
“Why do you look so nervous, Samuel?” She asked, her green eyes glinting with a dangerous light. The smirk on her face did nothing to assuage Samuel’s anxiety. Ryllae was at her most dangerous when she was smiling. “Could it be because we were supposed to meet a month ago, and you’ve been avoiding it?”
“A-A month ago?” Samuel stuttered. He was completely thrown off and didn’t know what she meant. Then it struck him. “Oh. I-”
Samuel and Ryllae had enjoyed a cordial, professional relationship ever since he’d rid her country of the chaotic mana beast. It had begun as a very formal exchanging of letters, wherein they would discuss topics of mutual interest. They’d shared their countless ideas of the mysteries of magic, and created new techniques. Ryllae was half to credit for the teleportation rings Samuel had created, not to mention the enchantments placed in the rivers which cleansed the drinking water using natural magic.
As the months turned into years, they began meeting in person, and their professional relationship began shifting into a more personal one. In addition to having much in common, they were also kindred spirits, and as time went on, they were drawn closer and closer. It was only a matter of distance that kept them from taking the next step. In many ways, Ryllae reminded him of his old friendship with Sera, and the many fears he had then were also present now. His fears had led to a general inability to take the next leap, which infuriated Ryllae.
Just a month ago, they had planned to meet in Stormbreak Harbor. Samuel hadn’t skipped this meeting on purpose, of course, for that had been directly after his encounter with Stephan Knarlick. He’d had to recover from the mental attack he’d been subjected to, and in the midst of it all, he’d forgotten to notify the Chancellor. Of course, she knew about this but was furious with him for not sharing this detail. In her eyes, she saw a long future planned out for her, one that included Samuel.
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When Samuel failed to explain himself, she let out a long sigh, closing her eyes as if to gain patience. “Don’t bother explaining yourself. I know why you didn’t come. I just wish you’d told me.”
She smiled slightly at him, and he saw some of that terrifying anger fade away. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I’m very sorry, Ry. You’re right, I should have told you. I’ve just been busy with this war.”
That piqued her attention, he noticed. Her green eyes flashed with interest. “War? You mean with the Mitene Union?”
“Lord Bragg has just returned from a mission to retake Jyrok Fortress,” Arthur threw in helpfully. Samuel nodded in confirmation. “It took me almost a full day to get them out, but it’s over now,” he added, trying to sound casual.
Ryllae caught the hidden words he chose not to say, but apart from raising an eyebrow, she did not comment. “I see. Well then. It seems you need some rest after all that. Come, let’s go to your estate, and you can sleep it off.”
She grabbed his left bicep with a surprisingly strong grip and started to steer him out of the library. He knew better than to resist her, particularly as she was emitting just enough mana to make it slightly painful. He grimaced, then called over his shoulder to Arthur. “Tell the King I’ll give my report in the morning!”
Arthur bowed his expression grave. “Well wishes, my lord.”
Ryllae pulled Samuel through the main section of the library and out into the main hall before she released her grip, content to walk alongside him as he led the way. She had a sharp sense for formalities and decorum, being raised as a noble, and knew that Samuel had to maintain a certain amount of visual respect as an Archmage. Students of all ranks, even two Masters they passed, all paused what they were doing to offer him a polite greeting. He had a lot more respect than he’d let slip, she noticed.
“I can’t imagine that you’ve traveled all this way just to lecture me on punctuality,” Samuel said, stepping back to hold a door open for her. “Why are you here, Ry?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, looking sidelong at him from under her light brows. “I was concerned about you.”
Samuel scowled at that. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, you know.”
“I know you are,” She agreed. “But you have no idea when to stop working and enjoy peace.”
“I have peace.”
They exited the College’s property and crossed over into the city proper. There were more buildings since her last visit to the capital of Gorteau. The city was prospering despite the fear of war that was coming. It was also larger, which she could see via the raised hill that they climbed to reach Samuel’s estate. Any other noble would have taken a carriage to cross the city. Even a lot of mages preferred to teleport instead of walking, as long as it wasn’t too far at once. But Samuel chose to continue mingling with the common folk. She’d asked him the reason for this once, and he claimed that he was still a common man at heart, and needed the exercise.
What had previously been honor and respect shown by members of the College now became love and adoration from the people that they passed. Every few hundred feet, a man or woman would drop what they were doing and rush forward to greet Samuel, or to offer some small gift of appreciation. Ryllae noticed how he refused any expensive gift of money or valuable, but was more than happy to take offers of food and drink. It could have just been his natural hunger, but she sensed that he was also keen to show his sort of appreciation to the townsfolk.
“It’s a different environment in Milagre,” Samuel said, peering at her owlishly. When she raised her eyebrows in a silent question, he continued, “In Harlest, I’m treated like a local. It’s a comfortable feeling. But I’ve done too much in this city to be viewed as one of them. As much as I tried to fight it, they insist on putting me on a pedestal. So I do what I can to return those feelings.”
“By accepting food and drink from them.”
Samuel let out a laugh, easily one of her favorite sounds from him. It was a joyous sound, no matter what caused it, that made him seem light as a feather despite his extraordinary burdens. “It’s more than that. I accept their thanks in person, and I lend my hand when I can to help them. It’s a delicate ecosystem.”
“A distinct difference in the normal way that nobility interact with the common folk,” Ryllae commented. “What if one of your enemies tries to poison you with food?”
“It wouldn’t work,” Samuel said. There was no sign of humor or overconfidence to his face now. “Only ancient magic can harm an Ancient in that way. Of course, I can still be killed by a mortal, but my body will just destroy any poison created by this world.”
She nodded her acceptance of this explanation. “Well then. Maybe one of your enemies will disguise themselves, then strike while your guard is down.”
“I don’t have any enemies,” Samuel said. Ryllae looked skeptical, but he held up his hands. “It’s true. The only people who could have hated me love me for my efforts to improve their lives. I enjoy a situation that no other noble could hope for. Well, apart from Tobi-san, that is.”
“The illustrious Captain of Issho-Ni,” She commented with a smirk. “How is he adapting to his new authority?”
“As well as can be expected,” Samuel replied. “He’s exceeding all expectations.”
He gave her a brief hand signal to wait, and she stopped mid-stride, confused. He made several elaborate waving motions with his hands, and she saw sheets of mana receding into the air before them. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized that he was undoing huge areas of enchantment. From nearly four hundred feet away, a few layers of protective mana had been laid over his entire estate, preventing unwanted visitors from entering. She assumed, correctly, that he’d been checking to see if anyone had come in while he was away.
“Nothing new,” he said, with a sigh of satisfaction. “I wouldn’t put it past the Rainhalls to try and sabotage my home while I was busy defending theirs.”
Ryllae’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his social enemies. If she’d had her way, she would have brought her political sway to his aid to crush the Rainhalls, but he’d refused. The game of verbal and social sparring seemed boring to him, but he was a natural. Any comment he made had weight to it now, especially those that were contradictory to the assertions of the Rainhall family. Meanwhile, they could do nothing to him in retaliation because he had no ulterior motive. If he were socially disgraced and lost his nobility, he would continue to live the same way as before. He was a dangerous foe to them, for he had nothing to lose.
“So there have been no strangers within your estate?” She asked, her eyes alive with interest. “Do you need such a large screen to achieve that?”
She was aware of his unique spell Mana Screen, of course, and was a master at it herself. She knew that it could catch and register anything that entered the protected space. Only one was needed. But he shook his head slightly as if to deny her opinions. “Recently I discovered a way to slip past the screen undetected. If you don’t exist at the point that the screen searches for you, you become invisible.”
She nodded in understanding. Mana Screen worked as a sort of pulse, flashing out and back in, letting the mage become aware of anything that it came in contact with. So then if someone were to teleport before the pulse hit them, they could be undetected.
“They’d have to be awfully fast to achieve that,” She commented. “Few mages are capable of moving that quickly.”
“A few is more than acceptable,” he said quietly. “So I created multiple pulses. No matter where you are in the field, there is guaranteed to be a pulse that hits you within half a second.”
“I assume that’s too fast for you to avoid it?”
Samuel nodded. “Tobi as well. Even Grimr couldn’t beat it.”
Ryllae pursed her lips reflectively. A method of detection that even the God of Nature, the power that she reported directly to, couldn’t defeat? That was impressive. She knew that Samuel enjoyed a somewhat close friendship with the god that she served. She’d met Grimr Lance a handful of times, but it was nothing compared to the mage who had a constant, uninterrupted connection with his fellow Ancient.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she walked into Samuel, who had stopped suddenly. They were a few dozen feet inside his estate, and he’d come to a complete halt and taken her by surprise. Her immediate urge to chastise him was lost, however, as she realized that his first instinctual action had been to summon his blade. Glancing around in concern and moving to stand at his back, she tried to identify the source of the threat.
“How,” he muttered. Mana coursed off his body and flashed throughout the building, searching for a threat. It must have found nothing, for he relaxed slightly, as if unsure. Reluctantly, she peeked out around his shoulder. “What is it?”
He pointed with the hand holding his blade’s sheath. There, on a simple table used to serve tea to guests, was a letter. It was unmarked and unsealed, just a simple piece of parchment folded in half and resting on the table. Then Ryllae understood his trepidation. He hadn’t detected any new arrivals with his mana screen, so that meant that there was no accounting for this letter’s presence. Someone was fast enough to enter his estate without notice, the very situation that he’d just espoused to be impossible.