Compared to the last time Samuel took a long journey by ship, this voyage was practically boring. Samuel spent the majority of it in his cabin below decks, though he lent his hand to the various tasks around the ship, from moving supplies to tending to the rigging. He had a lot more strength in his body since the first time he’d worked on the ship, and he could do a lot more to help out. Most of the ship’s movement was guided by the wind, but it was also a mage ship, and so was equipped with enchantments to increase its pace. And so minutes turned into hours and hours into days. Before Samuel knew it, he’d slipped into a long sort of daze as the ship cut through the vast ocean.

They encountered some bad weather, but nothing that the ship couldn’t handle, and certainly nothing like the typhoon that they’d faced together five years. The surface of the water remained calm, and the ship cut through it like a knife through butter. The entire journey was smooth, with no choppy waves to set Samuel’s stomach rumbling. The only complaint he had was the food. Sea fare was dry and almost completely flavorless, and he mourned for Mandra’s delicious cooking. He made a mental note to bring his own food the next time he went on a trip. At least he had half-decent coffee to wash down the dry meals.

Before he knew it, the lookout in the mast was shouting down that he’d spotted land. Samuel hurried above deck with the rest of the off-duty crew and rushed to the bow to watch. It was another ten minutes or so before he could make out the dark line on the horizon that was the Isles of Nihon-Ja, though any other detail escaped his notice. He watched with bated breath as the ship drew closer, and more of the landscape materialized out of the low sea mist. The most prominent feature was the town they approached. Even from a kilometer away, the town appeared to glow with a faint light due to the number of lanterns illuminating the night sky.

It looked fairly normal to Samuel, who for some reason had expected an exotic sort of scenery. The language, culture, and residents of this nation always stood out when Samuel had met them, but their homeland was more simple than expected. It was only when they came into proper view of the docks and a bell-like gong sounded, that Samuel identified the differences in architecture, clothing, and even the behavior. He made a quick order to the crew, and they scrambled to the mast, rigging and hoisting a large flag into the air. It bore his heraldry, a silver hawk depicted in mid-flight on a dark blue background. Its shape, long and with two tails, denoted that he was of noble rank.

A small, fast ship was dispatched from the docks, moving quickly to intercept them. It was a sleek craft, but Samuel recognized the armed men on board and realized that it was presumably a security measure. With the threat of war between two countries that shared ocean borders with them, they were taking no chances, and would not let a strange ship enter their port without screening. Wisely, Captain Breman called for his men to stop rowing, and the ship slowly began to decelerate, until it was sitting still as could be, just over five hundred yards from the first of the docks. The Nihon-Jan ship sailed directly for them, a crew of strong rowers closing the distance quickly. Once they were within easy shouting distance, one figure stood on the prow and called out across the water.

“State your business in entering Minato!”

Samuel glanced back at Breman to see what he wanted to do, and the man gave a little wave of his hand that Samuel took to mean “after you”. So, taking a deep breath, he called back to the stranger. “I am Archmage Samuel Bragg, Noble of Milagre in Gorteau, and Champion of Arcana. I come in peace, so that I may study amongst your people!”

There was a brief pause as the stranger seemed to absorb his words. He was carrying a large tower shield with his left arm, obviously intended to protect him from any arrows or magic that might be launched from the foreign ship. He turned back to his own craft, and some exchange seemed to take place. Samuel could see the excitable motions of one man, clearly not dressed for combat. He was located behind the first so that he would be safe from any attacks. After what felt like a minute, and when their ship had drawn a little closer, he replied.

“Understood. Please prepare for my men to board your ship, so that we may speak more freely.”

Samuel waved his arm to show that he understood, and moved away from the bow. He paced casually to the middle of the craft as the Nihon-Jan ship drew level, and its rowers pulled back on the oars, stopping it nearly in its own length. Samuel detected the use of magic in the ship’s movements and assumed that was what allowed for such a quick braking maneuver. The man who had addressed him was standing in almost the same position, a bit higher than Samuel, one hand resting lightly on a katana that was stuck in his belt.

Samuel inspected the man closely, noting the fine balance he had, even on such an unstable surface. He rode the motions of his ships so easily that he might have been one with it, and he bore the unmistakable signs of experience in battle. Yet there weren’t so many scars as to suggest that he was continuously on the receiving end. That bode well, Samuel thought. It spoke to a seasoned, quick-witted warrior with which he could reason. With one light movement, he sprang across the gap and landed lightly on Breman’s ship, his knees bent ever-so-slightly to absorb the shock.

Showing no surprise at the rapid movement, Samuel took a step back to give the man space and bowed deeply. The stranger looked a bit taken aback at Samuel’s grasp on Nihon-Jan greetings and quickly moved to reply in kind. He kept his eyes up, however, flicking from side to side to take in any potential threats. The eyes lingered for a second or two on the crystalline blade that Samuel wore, before they returned to his face. He gave a friendly but terse smile of welcome.

“Welcome to the port of Minato,” the man said. “I am Kina Shimonseki. I believe you would refer to me as Commander of the Guard.”

Kina’s grasp of the common tongue was excellent, with virtually no trace of an accent, Samuel noticed. He bobbed his head. “I am Samuel Bragg. It is an honor to meet you, Shimonseki-san. Have you been to Gorteau or any other nation?”

Shimonseki smiled slightly as he saw that Samuel had caught on to his skill with the common tongue and correctly assumed how it had come about. “Yes. I spent some time training under master Tokugawa many years ago when I was but a boy.”

“Master Tokugawa?” Samuel queried. There could only be one person he was referring to. “You mean Shigeru?”

“Yes. I recognize your name, Samuel-san. Master Shigeru spoke of you often. You were a dear friend.”

“I tried,” Samuel said with a slight grin. “He taught me a bit, but my main study has been under his son.”

“Ah, yes,” Shimonseki agreed with a nod. “Master Tobito. He is a gifted warrior, I hear.”

“Far and above one of the best,” Samuel concurred. “I work with him often.”

“I regret to inform you that, though you are a friend of our lord Tokugawa, you must still consent to a search of your vessel,” Kina informed him. He was already scanning the crates that were visible on the top deck, and studying the people he could see, taking in weapons and supplies. “I assume you do not object?”

“Of course not,” Samuel said graciously. “Feel free to inspect our rations.”

“Please remain here while my men conduct the search,” Kina instructed him. “Master Tokugawa will speak with you in the meantime.”

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With another bow, he moved away, and half a dozen of his men made their own, less graceful way onto the ship. They offered no bow of greeting, as they were underlings, but at once fanned out to inspect crates and piles of tack. The second figure that Samuel had noticed hiding behind Kina, however, leaped aboard after the men had crossed, and landed lightly beside Samuel, who was frowning slightly. Tokugawa? He was sure that the only living member of that family was Tobi. Had Shigeru managed to descend somehow without him knowing? He turned to view the last person to board.

He was about twenty years older than Samuel, judging by the little bits of grey beginning to show in the black of his beard. His hair was long and straight, growing to the middle of his back, and partially obscuring the wolf’s head heraldry on the back of his white robe. It was identical to Shigeru’s robe, Samuel thought. Except that it bore another’s name in Nihon-Jan script, and the man in front of him was definitely not Shigeru. But he looked oddly familiar, and Samuel felt certain that he’d seen him somewhere.

“Welcome to Nihon-Ja, Master Bragg,” the man said. His voice was even more familiar. Its cadence and the calm, reassuring tone rang a faint bell. “I am honored to welcome you to my home. I have been expecting you.”

Then the realization struck Samuel, and a jolt of shock seemed to freeze him in place, locking his joints. He looked and sounded so familiar to Samuel for a reason because he’d met one of his family. But more than that, if the hair were shorter and tied back, he would be nearly identical. He was the spitting image of his younger brother, Shigeru.

“Reito,” he said weakly, taking half a step back in shock. “But Grimr told me he killed you.”

“And so he did,” Reito said with a wide smile. “Or rather, it was my body he destroyed. My soul remained quite intact, and free to wander.”

Samuel took a moment to find his voice, staring wide-eyed at the specter in front of him. He remembered all too clearly the story that Shigeru and Grimr had shared, over a century ago. Ensnared by an enemy’s enchantment, Reito had turned upon his allies and nearly succeeded in killing his younger brother. Shigeru had been unable to kill him, and so it had fallen to the ancient Grimr, an act that had undoubtedly saved Shigeru’s life, and so created the debt that Shigeru paid by assisting in killing Neratas.

“How are you alive after all this time?” Samuel finally asked. “And how do you appear so young?”

Reito let out a soft laugh. “I don’t feel so young these days, Master Samuel. But when Grimr stopped me, he sealed my soul away into his knife and gave me over to my master. He kept me safe and guarded for many years, and, perhaps twenty years ago, used ancient magic to recreate my body. I have served him faithfully since. My brother does not know, however.”

Samuel nodded his understanding. He knew, without being told, that Reito would notify Shigeru of his existence when the time was right. The two men locked eyes, and an agreement seemed to pass between them. Samuel would keep his secret. The silent message didn’t necessitate a fair trade, but Reito was as honorable as his brother.

“I appreciate your silence,” Reito said gravely. “To return the favor, I will be your guide.”

“My guide?” Samuel asked, arching an eyebrow. “Where exactly will you be guiding me to?”

Reito regarded him silently for several seconds before replying, at which point Kina returned, having completed his search of the ship. “I will guide you to the Sanctuary, and the home of my Master.”

The port city of Minato was as bustling as could be expected when Breman’s ship was finally allowed to come in to dock. Many townsfolk had come out to see the arrival now that the foreign ship was deemed to be no threat. They stopped in their tracks, perhaps four dozen of them, scattered throughout the piers but stuck in place, turned to face the strangers, watching the dock workers tying the ship fast and clearing the way for the gangplank.

The moment the plank crashed down, Samuel stepped on it, traversing the steady length of wood until he touched down on the docks. Not quite on Nihon-Jan soil, he thought, as the massive wooden piers were floating on the surface of the water. They felt no different from the deck of the ship with their gentle bobbing. Each movement sent a tremor along their length, increasing the instability for anyone walking along them. This was mainly the small body of troops that had accompanied Kina out to search their vessel.

Kina himself was waiting at the end of the long pier now, his expression changed to one of warm welcome. He smiled widely as the Breman’s crew came along behind Samuel, all carrying heavy crates and barrels of product for trade. Reito and Breman Johns were beside Samuel and slightly behind, as was the custom in an official arrival to foreign soil. He was the leader of this party and as such, he walked ahead. He lengthened his stride in the last few meters, eager to have solid ground beneath his feet. Then he made contact with the hard stone of the wharf, and let out a sigh. He was properly in a foreign country now.

There were countless signs around him that it was a different country. Dozens of buildings were built in an entirely foreign style, hundreds of signs written in foreign words, and a whole stream of people chattering amongst themselves in a foreign tongue. There was little in familiarity with Gorteau. Even the local ships, docked a ways away and sporting a full guard, were exotic in design. Nihon-Jan ships were much sleeker than Gorteauan craft, with finer lines that doubtless allowed greater spurts of speed. The sound of people shouting was almost drowned out by the scream of gulls overhead, the one familiar sound of any dock.

The smell of fish and drying netting was prevalent in the air, the first real scent Samuel had registered since his time at sea. He’d been acutely aware of only the sharp smell of seawater as they’d sailed, blown to him from all directions. He wrinkled his nose, not entirely sure that he enjoyed the overwhelming cacophony of sights and smells that were present. Minato was just more… vibrant than any port city he’d seen. The Nihon-Jan seemed fond of bright colors in their buildings, with the most prominent color being red. In addition, their walls painted a light creme color, were all wood, instead of the sturdy stone Samuel was accustomed to.

“I imagine it is quite different from your home,” Reito said, leaning forward to speak quietly into his ear. “We are a very different people.”

“You are, indeed,” Samuel agreed, his mouth slightly agape. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Reito replied with a quiet chuckle. “We pride ourselves on simple beauty.”

“How long will I be required to stay within the city before setting out for the Sanctuary?” Samuel asked, turning away from the spectacle before him to study the older man. “I assume that I’ll be free to move about in the morning.”

He phrased it as a statement rather than a question. He’d heard rumors that Nihon-Jans were particularly distrusting of outsiders, and objected to them moving freely throughout the country. But Reito smiled widely. “Of course. We shall find you a comfortable room at a ryokan, and after a good meal and a bath, you can catch up on some much-needed sleep.”

Samuel had to admit that it all sounded highly tempting. Ryokan, he knew, was the Nihon-Jan word for inn. They were much quieter than the average inn in Gorteau, as the cultural norm here was to be more reserved and avoid causing trouble for others. Samuel had learned Nihon-Jan over the past few years, sharpening his skills with Tobi as an added part of his studies. Tobi had assured him that his fluency was excellent and that he shouldn’t have an issue with communicating here. But even so, the locals spoke so rapidly that it took Samuel a bit to get used to it. But, eventually, his ear settled, and he was able to discern much of what was being spoken around him.

One group of people, young women in long elaborate robes, were passing the edge of the pier. They had long pieces of fabric covering their nose against the smell of fish, and they were speaking excitably amongst each other. Samuel turned to survey them, and they burst into more excited mutterings. “He’s so pale. Are all Go-jins pale like him? And so tall! He’s quite handsome, for a foreigner.”

Ignoring the rush of embarrassment at realizing that they assumed that he couldn’t understand them and their frank speech, he turned to Reito. “What does Go-jin mean?”

Reito looked confused for a moment, then he turned to frown sternly at the group of women. As he did, they seemed to realize that they’d been heard, and looked contrite. They lowered their heads at once and increased their pace, scurrying out of sight around a building. Reito shook his head sadly. “It is a derivative of gaijin, but used to describe your countrymen from Gorteau.”

“Ah,” Samuel replied simply. He knew that gaijin was the Nihon-Jan word for outsider. It meant strictly that, though Tobi had told him that it carried a certain condescending note to it. It was an insult, plain and simple. “I see. Oh well. Do you have much trouble with outsiders in Nihon-Ja?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Reito said. “Foreigners are seen as loud and obnoxious. A word of advice, if you will. Keep your inner thoughts to yourself, and wear a mask of respect. You will encounter much judgment anyway, but this will make it easier.”