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Chapter 18

Samuel let out a sigh of contentment as he slid into the near-scalding water of the bath. It was his second time that night. In his first trip, the water had been highly uncomfortable as he’d submerged himself, his skin protesting at the spring-fed water. It was exceptionally hot after his time on the cold ocean, and he’d felt like he was boiling alive. Then he’d grown accustomed, and the water leeched away his exhaustion, soothing his stiff muscles and sending him into pure bliss. He’d forgotten just how tired his muscles could be after a simple task like standing on a moving deck.

The bathhouse was technically a public one, but there was only one other person in the water. Samuel had been awkward at the thought of sharing bathing water with someone else at first, but after a moment or two, it was easy to forget that the other person was there. They both sat silently, the only sound the occasional sigh of contentment. Samuel smiled lazily as he allowed his entire body to relax. Being a bit taller than the average Gorteauan, he practically towered over Nihon-Jans, and he had to slump quite a bit to fully submerge himself into the water.

Minato was just outside the wall there, he thought, opening his eyes and staring at the light wood and paper obstruction. The thick paper was oiled to the point that it was almost translucent, and he could see the outline of a street lantern through it. That wouldn’t offer much in the way of protection if someone were criminally inclined, he thought. Perhaps the crime rate was just lower here. It was a good thing the weather was always warm, though, or else the population would freeze. It was a marked contrast to his home in Harlest, where he could expect a harsh winter every year.

The food was excellent as well when he left the bath and entered the dining area downstairs. The owner of the ryokan, a wizened old woman more friendly than most locals, had offered to bring his meal up to his rooms on the second floor, but he’d politely refused. She’d seemed surprised by the decision but gratified that he was willing to agree to the social norms. And so he wrapped a soft comfortable robe around himself after dressing and slid his feet into a pair of the house slippers that had been left for him. They had been altered a great deal so that they fit snugly around his larger feet. The landlady was accustomed to dealing with foreigners, he thought.

A simple meal of rice and fish was served to him. Samuel had tasted the fish out of politeness but hadn’t expected to enjoy it. He’d grown up in a fishing village, after all, and you could only eat so much of the sea life before it became quite dull. But he received a wonderful shock as he tested it, and had soon devoured the two filets served with his meal. The meat was so flaky and light, but bursting with a sharp lemony flavor. It far exceeded the cooking of his chef Seamus a hundred years ago, and nearly rivaled Mandra.

The Nihon-Jan in general did not drink coffee. Instead, he was given a mug of steaming, dark brown tea. It was delicious, and sent waves of energy coursing through his tired body, rejuvenating him almost as effectively as the bath had done. The rice was a sticky ball, with light seasoning to complement it, and quite filling. It lacked many of the heavy oils and spices of food he was used to, but no less savory for the fact. He accepted eagerly when the owner offered him more and shared his heartfelt compliments on her cooking.

“It does good to see a hungry young man,” she said, her thick accent making the words sound a little odd. “You have a large stomach, don’t you?”

He could only smile shyly and shrug. He replied in Nihon-Jan, surprising the woman further. “Your food is remarkable, mother. Thank you for the meal.”

A wide smile split her weathered face, and she bowed deeply before shuffling away to get him more food. The same man who had been in the bath came to sit a few feet away, his eyebrows raised as he studied Samuel. He’d heard this last exchange, and his face showed shocked surprise just as the owner had. He gave a shallow bow in Samuel’s direction and shifted a seat closer.

“You speak well for a foreigner,” he said. He had a very deep, gravelly voice. “You are very kind to my mother.”

Samuel returned the bow. “Thank you. She deserves the compliment. That is the best food I’ve had in weeks.”

The stranger laughed. “Ship food is not very good for your country, I take it?”

Samuel shook his head ruefully. “No. It is very dry.”

He took a piece of tough dried meat out of his satchel and offered it to the man. He took it with a curious look and bit into it. He grimaced slightly as he registered how tough it was, and the muscles of his jaws worked furiously to shred it to a size that he could swallow. Even then, he winced slightly as the sharp edge caught in his throat for a moment. Eyes streaming, he drank half of his scalding cup of tea before speaking.

“ I agree, that is very dry,” he said with a weak laugh. Samuel chuckled in agreement. “So, what are you?”

“I don’t understand your question,” Samuel said, frowning in confusion. “What am I?”

“You carry a sword,” the stranger said bluntly. “But you have the signs of magic about you. Strong magic.”

“Is it strange to be both warrior and mage?” Samuel asked.

“Not strange for Nihon-Jans, but very strange for Go-, I mean for your people.”

Samuel smiled slightly as he caught the near slip. The man was making an effort to be friendly, which he appreciated. “I am not like most of my country. I am an Archmage.”

“You are in the college?” The man asked. “My cousin’s son went to the college in Milagre. He is studying hard to learn magic.”

“Yes,” Samuel said. “I am Archmage of Knowledge. But I don’t care for titles. You may call me Samuel.”

At this, the man’s eyes widened further. “You are Samuel-san? The Champion of the Mind?”

Samuel was taken aback. Very few people called Arcana the mind. It was a very old name for his god. “Yes. I did not expect many to know of me.”

To his surprise, the man looked wary now. “Many of us know of you, Samuel-san. Those of us who study the arcane arts, at least. We know that you are different. You practice more than the arcane.”

Samuel nodded in confirmation. “Yes. I have always felt there is more to magic than that.”

“I am Tatomi Hijiro. My family was one of those who helped the Wanderer and Lord Tokugawa.”

“Against Takashi?” Samuel asked. He remembered the story as if he’d heard it yesterday. The rebel warlord had nearly wiped out Shigeru’s entire family. In a way, he had. “So we have friends in common.”

“Yes,” Hijiro agreed. He moved over once again so that he was now directly across from Samuel. “I have a question. I hope it is not too rude.”

“What is it?” Samuel asked uneasily. He was acutely aware of the light of interest in Hijiro’s eyes.

“Are you kodai?”

That word took a moment to register with Samuel. It wasn’t part of his lessons with Tobi. Rather, the last time he’d heard it had been when he’d met Shigeru in the village of Harlest. It was the word he used to describe Grimr. That must be the Nihon-Jan word for ancient, he thought. He glanced around to make sure nobody else was present, then nodded slightly in confirmation. Hijiro stared at him almost in wonder, then suddenly, reached across the table with his palms upward. The intent was clear. He wanted Samuel to clasp his hands. Hesitantly, Samuel obliged.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He felt a flash of energy cross over from Hijiro’s hand and into his own body. His mana caught it at once, holding it in place. It was not a spell, but something new. He frowned. “What is it?”

“It is a gift,” Hijiro said, pulling his hands away. “A gift of our people. You have come to meet the Teacher.”

He did not phrase it as a question, and Samuel saw no need to deny it. “Yes. Is the Teacher well-known here?”

Hijiro nodded solemnly as his mother returned from the kitchen. “We are all students of the Teacher. His students teach their ways, and their students teach their ways. In a way, we are all his students.”

“Have you been to the Sanctuary, then?”

“No. I am not strong enough for that test. I am a simple man.”

Samuel felt as if someone had grabbed hold of his stomach with a cold fist. “There is a test?”

“Of course. You will be tested, to be sure that you are worthy of his teachings.”

Samuel wrinkled his nose slightly, but not at an unpleasant smell. This testimony seemed to only reaffirm that this would be a lengthy affair. He felt no misgivings at the idea of being tested, not after all the tests that Arcana, Grimr, Shigeru, and even Tobi had given him. His old teacher Astori had been particularly tough with his tests, requiring Samuel to invent entirely new ideas to excel. But he had the danger of war at any time now. The Mitene Union could return. Or else Rainhall might decide to strike while he was away. He simply didn’t have the time to study under a master for months, or possibly years.

He put the thought aside for a moment to study the ‘gift’ that Hijiro had given him. It felt like energy, but it was much lighter than his mana. It wasn’t ki either, the life force that fueled physical magicks. It was soothing to behold, a kind of warmth against his skin, rejuvenating him like sleep. Then, as it was absorbed into his body and he felt something deep in his chest flare, he realized what it was. The nation of Nihon-Ja was rumored to be filled with spiritual masters. They used the power of their soul to perform magic, sharpened and strengthened through meditation and connection with a higher being they served.

“Tamashi,” he breathed, his voice nearly inaudible. “This is spiritual magic.”

And suddenly, in the forefront of his mind, an image of his mother surfaced. Her hair tousled after a long night working at the tavern, tiredness etched in the corner of her eyes, and a kind, warming smile on her face. The image he used when he needed comfort the most. His most calm state was when he remembered his mother, remembered her gentle touch and her soothing voice. Unbidden, his eyes filled with tears, and he allowed them to fall silently.

“You are already in touch with your soul,” Hijiro said gently. “You stand at the edge of new magic, Samuel-san. You are gifted by the Mind, and by Lord Tokugawa. Now you are gifted by our people.”

Samuel could still feel the speck of energy deep inside his chest, right at the very core of his being. He’d heard mention of the soul before, of course. It was most highly stressed in spiritual and divine teachings. He’d even sensed something like it inside himself, but never before had it been so clearly felt. There was a small core of energy inside of him, and he was aware of it now. It was almost indistinguishable from his ki, so it had escaped his notice. Then came the comfortable realization that this alone was his own. His body and mind, both incredibly strong, had been gifts of Arcana, designed to make him the perfect champion. But this, his most inner part, was his own.

Now that he was aware of the sensation of his aura, he could see it in Hijiro. Hijiro’s soul was bright and golden, like a strong-burning flame. He’d spent many years refining it, and its strength was almost overwhelming to behold. Samuel felt small before him, despite the staggering differences in physical and magical might. Pure calm radiated from the man across the table, a gentle lapping wave of energy that surged in circular movements around his core.

“This is amazing,” Samuel said faintly. “How could I not know this power?”

“You have lost your roots,” Hijiro said, his voice quiet but firm. “You have been too focused on your attachments to the world. You forget that your greatest strength comes from within. It is not what others give you, but what you give yourself, that matters.”

Those simple words, offered by a stranger he would never meet again, stayed with Samuel like a religious mantra. They became the foundation for an entirely new way of life, one centered around himself, rather than the hundreds, thousands of people to which he was beholden. It was the most simple of his parts, but all the stronger for it. It was the ultimate gift, passed down to him from his mother. It was also the only thing he’d had to learn himself, from the first step to mastery.

The next morning, Samuel rose early when Reito came to call on him. The old master was dressed in the same robe as the previous day, though his hair was tied back, and he had a staff strapped to his back. It was like the war staffs of Gorteau, but lighter, and its surface was inscribed with many delicate runes. Reito himself, to Samuel’s newly opened eyes, shined like a miniature sun. He was a master of spiritual magicks, Samuel thought. He raised the subject at once as they left the ryokan and began their trek for the edge of the Minato township.

“Your soul is very strong, Reito-san,” he said quietly. “Is that what you have learned from Raveonic?”

Reito allowed a faint smile to cross his face. “Yes. My master has taught me much. While Shigeru was the expert of all things physical, capable of defeating any foe, I was born feeble. I am competent with a weapon, but my greatest strength has always lied in healing and aid.”

“But I can see your power clearly,” Samuel protested. “I knew Raveonic was a great teacher, but I never expected him to be so strong.”

“He is unlike anyone I have ever seen,” Reito said with a nod of agreement. “He knows many things, and shares his knowledge freely with those who are worthy of his teachings.”

“Is that why he summoned me?” Samuel asked. “Does he think I’m finally worthy to learn from him?”

“I cannot pretend to know his purpose in calling you to the Sanctuary,” Reito said, after a few minutes of silence. “My master is mysterious in his ways. Perhaps he has something to teach you. Perhaps he merely invited you to tea.”

Samuel laughed at that but stopped at once when he saw the serious look on Reito’s face. “He sounds a bit mad.”

“Well,” Reito said delicately, “He has been alive since the time of the Ancients. Perhaps the passing of time has made him a bit mad. But he is still a genius, and as far as I know, unmatched.”

“Well, I’m sure Grimr could top him.”

Reito stopped suddenly, turning to face Samuel, who almost walked into him with the abrupt halt. “Has the Wanderer never told you of his fight with my master?”

“No,” Samuel frowned. “I didn’t know that they had fought. When was this?”

“Many, many years ago,” Reito said. He began walking once more, and Samuel followed expectantly. “It was at the end of the first war when they first crossed paths. Grimr had just won a great victory for the world. Only my master and the Ancients know what the war was for.”

This was the first time Samuel had heard of it. “What happened?”

“My master was a strong warrior even then. He desired to test his strength, so he asked the Wanderer for a duel. Grimr accepted, and very nearly won.”

“He lost?” Samuel spluttered. He’d seen Grimr’s strength first-hand in the fight against Neratas. He had the ability to draw strength from the world around him, to fuel him to legendary levels. The thought that he could lose against a mortal, even a strong one, was unbelievable. Samuel couldn’t picture just how strong someone would have to be to defeat the Ancient. And he’d had hundreds, possibly thousands of years of growth after that?

“Yes,” Reito said, smiling at the awed look on Samuel’s face. “It was the last serious fight anyone had ever seen him take on. He says that he will have one more serious fight before his time comes, but we do not know when. He trains daily for that fight.”

Samuel’s mind was spinning, something that had not happened for many years. He became so consumed by his thoughts that he lost track of the time. Reito was more than willing to let him pursue this new information for himself, merely leading the way. Now Samuel was slightly nervous at the thought of presenting himself before such a person. What if he did or said something that provoked Raveonic into anger? He was certain that he stood no chance now. What if this was to be his last journey?

“Here we are.”

Samuel glanced up, shocked out of his thoughts, and glanced around. The town of Minato was far behind them now. He craned his neck back. The tall mountain he’d noticed from Minato was directly in front of him, stretching far above into the heavens. They were at the base of the monumental landmark, standing before a simple wooden archway. Words were inscribed on the arch. Test yourself, and you may rise to higher levels. Test yourself, and attain power in the favor of the mother.

When he glanced down, Reito was gone. He was alone. A voice rang out in the eerie silence, echoing through the air and his mind. Test yourself.