“You-” the King spoke again, but the shock of the moment seemed to rob him temporarily of words. “You destroyed Jyrok?”

Samuel resisted the urge to frown with some difficulty. Such an expression would be nothing but disrespectful in front of a ruler. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“By yourself?”

Now Samuel really did frown. He couldn’t help it. That should have been obvious by the context of his report. Maybe the man was just in shock, he reasoned. “Yes, your Majesty. I wanted to ensure a quick victory for our forces.”

“Samuel,” Aren spoke haltingly. He was a little more composed than his elder brother, but even he looked a little weak. “That is-.”

“This is unacceptable!” Rainhall said as if he couldn’t stand being ignored by them all. “That fortress has been owned by my family for generations! You had no right!”

Samuel opened his mouth to retort, but the King, to his great surprise, interrupted before he could speak. “Be quiet, General Rainhall!”

The General looked angry, but he didn’t dare argue with the King. He clamped his jaw shut, but still glared across the table at Samuel. If looks could kill, he would have been vaporized on the spot. Samuel looked away from his brilliantly red face to stare expectantly at the King, who was still slightly open-mouthed at the report Samuel had given.

“You are able to do this because of your connection to Arcana?” The King asked him. Samuel was thrown off by the lack of anger in his tone. His confusion was obviously noticed, so the King elaborated. “Is this an ability that Arcana gave you, or is it your magic?”

“Well,” Samuel said thoughtfully, “It is undoubtedly due to Arcana’s grace that I learned of this magic, Your Majesty. But the runes I used to accomplish it were normal magic. So I suppose it was under my own power, even if that was granted to me by Arcana.”

“So another mage couldn’t achieve this effect on their own?” Aren cut in. “It is not possible for one to be schooled in this magic?”

“It’s not impossible,” Samuel admitted, not sure where this was headed. “But there would be a large power gap. At most, they could achieve the same power as a trebuchet.”

That explanation seemed to interest the brothers greatly. Samuel could see the light in their eyes, and finally, he understood. Sure enough, the next question fired at him confirmed his belief. “Could you train a unit of mages in this magic? Could you teach others to achieve this level of power?”

“I could,” Samuel said. A little of his previous reserves of courage had remained, and he used it to keep his voice firm and stern. “But I will not.”

“You will not?” Aren asked. He didn’t seem too surprised but still tried nonetheless. “You would be compensated handsomely for it. We can give you anything you desire.”

“With respect, Prime Magus, I have fulfilled my duty as a resident of Gorteau,” he said, making no mistake that he had no intention of taking the relationship further. “But I am not prepared to give such destructive magic to strangers, for fear of the imbalance of power it would cause.”

“You don’t want your country to thrive?” The King asked. His tone was petulant and stubborn. “You would have us live comfortable with the notion that we are weaker than our enemies?”

“The Mitene Union will not consider us weak,” Samuel replied. “Even if they recognize that it was my effort, my men still showed a great deal of fight. They’ll know that we’re not an easy mark.”

“Perhaps this discussion can take place at a later time,” Aren cut in again. He seemed keen to move the subject along without allowing more tempers to rise. “In any event, thank you for your service, Lord Bragg. Your efforts have granted us a great victory. You may take your leave.”

Samuel turned to give him a grateful look, then bowed deeply in the King’s direction. “It is my honor, Your Majesty. I thank you for your time. Good day.”

So saying, he turned on his heel. Rainhall grumbled something not quite audible, which he ignored. He was out of the room in four long strides, pulling open the heavy oak door and slipping through it. He had reached the entrance to the central castle itself before the sound of it closing could reach his ears. He could feel the anger of Rainhall flare up the instant he’d left, and assumed that he was protesting vehemently to the king.

“Just keep dripping your poison, Rainhall,” he said under his breath. “It won’t help you much longer.

Ryllae was waiting for him outside of the central castle, absorbed in quiet conversation with three grizzled members of the Royal Scribes. She glanced up as Samuel exited the building at a rapid pace, and a thoughtful frown formed on her face. She seemed to glean by his expression that the meeting hadn’t been entirely cordial, and gave a quiet word of farewell to her new friends. They moved off to other duties, and Ryllae stepped over to intercept his path.

“Come with me,” Samuel said as he reached her. The hurried, firm tone of his voice caused her some concern, but she didn’t question him. He held out his right hand, and she grasped it. “Steady, now.”

With a quick spinning movement, Samuel’s mana encompassed the pair of them, and they vanished. They hurtled through space and time for what felt like half a second and rematerialized inside the Archmage tower that held his office. Samuel, more than accustomed to fast teleportation by now, immediately strode over to his desk while Ryllae swayed on the spot, gathering her wits about her.

“What was that about?” She asked, once her stomach had settled enough to allow speech. “You seem livid.”

“I am,” Samuel agreed. “Rainhall continues to throw his weight around, and his anger is getting worse. I can only assume that he’ll make a move against me in the near future.”

“You don’t fear him, surely.”

Samuel allowed a cold, angry smile to spread across his face. It had virtually no humor to it. “Not in the slightest. But if I’m not here, then they can’t destroy my estate as collateral and make it seem like an accident.”

“So are you striking first?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Despite how fast he was to act when needed, she knew that he was not an impulsive man. He was very deliberate and measured in his choices lately. “That might not be wise, given your very public hatred of each other.”

“Oh, I’m not striking at anything,” Samuel said briskly. He picked up a quill and jotted a long series of notes down onto three pieces of blank parchment. “I’m leaving the country to meet Raveonic.”

That took the Chancellor by surprise. She also felt a flare of disappointment in her stomach, which she quickly stifled. Samuel seemed to notice it, however and glanced up with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Ry. I know you wanted us to spend more time together. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She nodded acceptance of his words, but one doubt remained. “Are you sure you have the time for such a long journey? What if the Mitene Union attacks again? The King and his men need you, and you know it.”

Samuel shrugged lightly. “They can manage without me for a while. Besides, if it gets very bad very quickly, I can come back with World Shift in an instant.”

Ryllae nodded her understanding. She wasn’t an Ancient herself, but she’d met enough of them in her lifetime to understand the strange magic that they possessed. With the spoken power of their ancient tongue, they could warp the world around them to suit their needs, and achieve incredible power. It was the language that shaped the earth, after all, and for those who could work it, it was an invaluable tool.

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“Why don’t you World Shift to Nihon-Ja?” She asked. “That will cut down on your travel a considerable amount.”

“Two reasons,” Samuel said. “First, I’d have to remain in the country for at least a month, just to be safe. Second, even if I were successful, I may miss entirely, and wind up in the wild countryside, with no idea of where I am.”

“Ah,” she replied simply. “Very well. Is it safe for me to stay within the city for a while?”

Samuel glanced up, confused. He hadn’t expected her to accompany him, of course, but he’d assumed that she would return to Zaban until he could visit again. “I can’t imagine that Rainhall would dare attack you for our connection. But why would you want to stay in Gorteau? Don’t you have to return to Zaban soon? You are the Chancellor, after all.”

“I’m taking a much-needed break,” Ryllae replied with a smile. “I told Maera that I will be away until spring. She is more than capable to manage Stormbreak in my absence.”

Samuel nodded distractedly, remembering the young elven woman who was Ryllae’s apprentice. Just two years previously, she’d been named successor in the event that Ryllae retired or was killed. She was a capable and formidable force, especially when it came to managing the different families of the country.

“Well then,” he said, thinking quickly. “I’m sure you will be offered comfortable accommodations within the Royal District. I’ll return in a month or two, and we can spend more time together then.”

“I’ll take you at your word,” she said. “I assume you are smart enough to avoid breaking a promise to me twice.”

Despite his harried and annoyed mood, Samuel couldn’t help but grin. Ryllae was a formidable woman herself, especially when it came to her valuable free time. She’d made it quite clear at the start that she thought Samuel worthy of her attention and mind, but woe betide him if he were to take it too lightly.

“You’re the best friend I could have ever asked for, Ry,” he said, stepping forward with his arms extended. “I promise to make this trip as quick as I can.”

She allowed the embrace, putting her arms around him in turn. Then, she did something that took Samuel completely by surprise. As he pulled away, she put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in close, and kissed him. Her lips were indescribably soft against his own, and he could still remember the fragrance of her mana hours later as he sailed away on one of the Mage Ships owned by the College.

“Good to have you onboard again, Archmage.”

Samuel glanced up from his notebook, a little confused. A burly man was standing in front of him, a wide grin stretched across his weathered and tanned face. A great load of busy black hair obscured most of his features, but Samuel felt certain that they’d met before. He cast his memory around, and after a few seconds, suddenly remembered.

“You were the captain of the cargo ship,” Samuel said, closing his notebook with a snap. “The one that took my apprentice and me to Zaban.”

The man’s smile widened in pleasure. He was flattered that Samuel recognized him after nearly half a decade. They’d been strangers at best, and it was expected for a stiff noble to forget the faces and names of common folk that they interacted with. Samuel, of course, was no stiff noble, but the simple kind act of remembrance meant a lot.

“Aye, my lord,” the Captain said with a hearty laugh. “You saved me and my crew a good deal of trouble on that voyage. I’m glad I can return the favor now.”

Samuel tilted his head slightly in confusion. “How do you mean? Are you not chartered with the markets anymore?”

“No, sir,” the Captain replied, thrusting out his chest. “I cashed in on my years of service in the navy and got meself appointed to the College’s fleet. Now I’m under your direct command, Archmage.”

“What?” Samuel asked, his face blank. He knew that some Archmages had entire fleets at their disposal, chartering them out to earn coin while they were not needed. But it was something that the Archmage had to pursue himself. “I didn’t request a ship for myself.”

The Captain frowned thoughtfully. “That’s unexpected news to me. Your steward was quite happy to accept my ship and my men as employees of your noble house. He even gave us a stipend and funds to build a new ship.”

Samuel’s frown deepened. He’d only had Arthur as his steward for three years, and the man hadn’t shared any of this information with him. But it was in line with his attitude, making decisions to improve Samuel’s estate without alerting him. He was acutely aware of Samuel’s disregard for titles, wealth, and recognition.

“I see.” It was all Samuel could think to say. Then he realized that he couldn’t remember the man’s name if he’d ever heard it. “Well, I’m glad to have you with me, Captain…”

“Johns, Archmage,” he replied, gripping Samuel’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Breman Johns.”

“Breman,” Samuel muttered reflectively. “Then you’re originally from the Union, I take it?”

“Aye, sir. Me mam left when I was but a babe and my father was killed in a clan dispute. I was raised in Jyrok until I joined the crew of a ship, and began making an honest livin’.”

Jyrok. Samuel was amazed at the double connection. “Does she still live in the village, then?”

Johns nodded confirmation. “She’s got a comfortable home along the cliff. I send her half of me stipend each month with the Royal Courier. She’s ancient now, a’course.”

He let out a deep guffaw at the joke, and Samuel grinned along. So she was one of the people saved from the Rainhall’s tyranny, then. Samuel felt a welling of contentment form in his chest and took a deep breath of the salty sea air. Returning his notebook to his pocket space, he turned to face the bow.

They were a mere week away from Sheran’s port, with the last stretch of Gorteau’s coastline on the horizon. Samuel could see the cliffs of Jyrok even now, and though he was too far to make them out, he thought he could spot exactly where the chaotic updrafts ran along the sheer face and up into the air. The landscape looked even more rugged from this angle, though its rough stone had a strong, unshakable beauty to it.

“Have you ever been to Nin-Ja, Lord Bragg?” Johns asked. He’d remained by Samuel, also staring at the last sign of his country sliding away.

“No,” Samuel admitted. “You?”

“A few times. Plenty of nobles in the capital love the silks they make there, and they pay a pretty coin to have them hauled over.”

“That makes sense,” Samuel muttered. “I know they’re quite skilled with cloths.”

“Not just cloths,” Breman put in. “They got some fancy herbs and potions too. Frankly, I think they just stink up a clean ship, but they make for good trade.”

“I’ll bet,” Samuel commented, not really paying attention anymore. He was thinking of Ryllae back in Milagre. Then, strangely, of Sera, in the tiny village on the south-eastern coast. “How long until we touch the coast of Nihon-Ja?”

“Hmm.” Breman turned to glance at the mast of his ship, its sail fluttering idly in the mild sea breeze. Then he paced a few feet away to the compass by his steering wheel, and back up at the mast once more. Then he spat over the side. Apparently, this was all enough for him to have an adequate answer, for he came back confident. “I’d wager about three weeks, my lord.”

“Very well.”

Samuel turned away from the sight of the cliffs, which at this point were almost completely obscured by sea fog, and walked below decks. Now that the Captain had introduced himself, Samuel realized that he also recognized quite a few of the crew. They were all grinning wickedly at him, and a few who weren’t occupied with duties clasped hands with him, offering their thanks and greetings.

It was a valuable lesson in leadership for Samuel. He’d spent nigh on five years in the capital after the battle in which Shigeru had died. He hadn’t taken on any great journeys, content that he would have no shortage of time. He was effectively immortal, after all. Instead, he had used his magical gift to make immediate changes in his life. After purchasing a lot of land inside the Noble District, he’d built a new house, laying enchantments on every material, so that it would be capable of yet unheard magic.

He’d spent time among the common people of the city and nearby villages, doing what he could to tackle the problems he found there. It was a novel experience for the residents of the city to see a noble among them, talking freely and carrying burdens alongside them. He tended to the fields, using magic to cause the plants to flourish. He worked with druids to clean the water that ran throughout the city, ending the pollution that made so many of them sick.

The greatest change, in their eyes, was how accessible the arcane arts had become. It was known that nearly all people had some level of magical aptitude, but higher learning had long been limited to the royals and nobles of the country. With Samuel as an Archmage, schools were constructed throughout the city, giving a warm place of refuge and education to the children who could not afford it.

Bragg’s work, in conjunction with Issho-Ni’s captain, had turned a chaotic and dangerous city into a beacon of growth and safety. Nefarious criminals were rounded up, virtually overnight, and a wave of prosperity surged through the lower and middle classes of the city. Its growth drew attention from outside, bringing in new people, craftsmen, and merchants. The cities of Milagre and Sheran, and Gorteau along with them, improved drastically.

Samuel’s work had earned him the love and adoration of many, but it had also birthed many enemies. Just two years after his return from Zaban, a mage assassin attacked the Archmage while he was working in the lower city. Some could still remember the fight vividly. Samuel had beaten the assassin at once, along with the comrades who attacked after. It was the first true testament to his power, and it tempered the violence further. Very few could challenge him after that, and they were wise enough to keep their heads down.