“Where are you off to in such a rush this morning, sir?”
Samuel paused halfway across the entry hall, turning to see Arthur appearing through one of the side doors that led into the kitchen and dining area of the mansion. He was dressed promptly as ever, though he didn’t have his sword on him today. He looked mildly curious at Samuel’s hurried movement.
“I’m going to the College,” Samuel said. Suddenly, he felt nervous, as if Arthur wouldn’t approve of such an action. Then he wondered why the steward’s opinion on his actions should matter to him. “I want to meet Archmage Lucian Peran.”
If he found any part of Samuel’s response odd, he made no comment on it. He simply nodded his acceptance of the answer, and replied briskly, “Of course, sir. Allow me a few minutes to collect my sword and get the wagon ready.”
“I don’t need a guard just to visit the College,” Samuel said at once. The idea of traveling through the city with a retinue, or even the zealous steward mortified him. How could he learn anything about the city with a watchful guardian shadowing him at every turn? “I don’t need the wagon either. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Arthur didn’t look at all pleased by that, but he hastily rearranged his features into a more pleasant mask. “Sir, this isn’t Harlest. The streets of the city are hardly safe, especially for a lord such as yourself.”
“Nobody’s going to know that I’m a lord,” Samuel protested. “Nobody in this city knows me besides the people in this house.”
“I’m afraid that’s not true, Samuel.” The use of his name seemed to indicate that the man was losing patience with his new lord. “The nobility of the city, and quite a few others, know that Lord Bragg sent me to find his heir and bring him back to Milagre. Even if they don’t know the story, they’ll recognize that instantly.”
Samuel glanced down to follow Arthur’s pointing finger and noticed the silver hawk stitched into the dark blue robe. He shrugged the fact aside. “Then I’ll wear my normal robe. Nobody will recognize me.”
“You also resemble your late father quite strongly,” the steward pointed out. “I’m sure you’re aware of that. And the people of this city know his image quite well after the years he’s lived within the capital.”
“I hardly think they’re going to be on the lookout for someone who looks like my father,” Samuel said, a slight note of exasperation in his voice now. “I assure you, I’ll be fine.”
The corners of Arthur’s mouth turned down ever so slightly, nearly forming a frown. Then his eyes flicked slightly to the left, locking onto something just over Samuel’s shoulder. “At least take Shigeru with you, Samuel. He can watch your back, and you’ll have a much lower profile without your steward in tow.”
It was a fairly large concession, and Samuel knew it. The very idea of Arthur trusting another to handle his primary job was a struggle for the old steward, and he could recognize that. He glanced over his shoulder to see Shigeru, who had frozen in place, looking surprised at his sudden inclusion in the conversation. “Fine, I’ll agree to that. As long as Shigeru doesn’t mind.”
The warrior shrugged. “I could use a trip to the markets. There’s a food vendor that sells excellent sashimi.”
“There,” Samuel said, returning his gaze to Arthur. That settles it. But I won’t be taking the wagon. I want to take the city in, and I can’t do that in a moving box.”
Arthur nodded his agreement, but it was clear he wasn’t pleased. “As you wish. Would you like Seamus to pack something for you to eat later?”
“I’ll do fine in the markets,” Samuel said, then paused, putting a hand on his coin purse. There were barely a few coppers in there, and a single, solitary silver coin. He wasn’t sure how far that would go in the capital. Travelers to Harlest spoke often about how expensive everything was in the city. If he had to guess, he couldn’t afford much more than a loaf of bread and some fruit. Arthur seemed to notice his trepidation and smiled slightly.
“I wondered when you would notice that problem,” he said. Then he reached into a pouch at his waist and retrieved a full coin purse. He tossed it over. “That’s yours by right, so don’t complain about me giving you my money.”
Samuel caught the pouch, grunting in surprise at the weight off it. He peeked inside to see several fistfuls of bronze coins, a clump of silvers, and even two gold coins, which caught the light of the chandelier above him and reflected it merrily. He’d never even seen a gold coin in his life. He quickly closed the pouch, attaching it to his belt. He tried to ignore how heavy it felt at his waist.
“Are you really going to the College?” Shigeru asked, once they were at the far edge of the large yard, “Or do you have some other motive in mind?”
“I really do want to go there,” Samuel said, a little hurt at the assumption that he was being deceitful. He told Shigeru about the badly burned scrap of parchment he’d found in his father’s study. “Mari told me Archmage Peran is still alive, and that he’s at the College. So I want to meet him.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Shigeru looked thoughtful for a moment but didn’t reply. Instead, it was Grimr who next spoke. There is something we must do first, Samuel. Let us find a quiet place where none can see or hear us.
The gate at the very edge of the estate proved to be a perfect place. Once they were out of sight of the mansion, Shigeru led the way off to one side, and Grimr hopped off his shoulder. Samuel followed, curious as to what Grimr had in mind. He opened his mouth to ask but never managed to get the words out. As soon as the black cat landed, it suddenly grew, its body shifting rapidly. In less time than it took for Samuel to react, the Ancient had transformed.
What stood before him now was not a small black cat, but a rather thin child clad in shabby clothes that seemed to be made of hide. He had long black shaggy hair to complement the state of his clothes, that hung down to his shoulders. The only thing that remained the same was the eyes. A deep, burning violet in color, radiating an ancient power that Samuel couldn’t hope to comprehend.
“I thought it was only fair for you to know my full identity,” Grimr said. His voice was the same as what Samuel had heard in his mind a handful of times. The deep, growly nature of it was at odds with his youthful appearance. But was it youthful? In spite of his stature, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the lines around his eyes hinted at a wealth of experience that no other living being could grasp.
“You’re more than an Ancient,” Samuel spoke in almost a whisper. The words had slipped out without his intent, but he knew them to be true. “What are you?”
“I am all that I have shared with you,” Grimr said. “What you are sensing is not who I am, but what I am to become. You can sense my purpose.”
“Your… purpose?”
“Mortals can never truly understand the Ancients. We are not born but created. Created with one very clear and unavoidable purpose. Following this purpose grants us strength. Wavering weakens our spirits, changing us into something else. I have never wavered, even once.”
“What could your purpose be, to make you so strong?”
A thin smile curled across Grimr’s lips at the question. “That is a tale for another time. For now, it is enough that you know me properly.”
“Do all Ancients have multiple forms as you do?”
“Do you have a separate form?”
“No. But I’m not an Ancient.”
“Not yet. In time.”
Then it hit Samuel. That’s what would become of him if he continued down this road, and agreed to become Arcana’s representative in the world. Of course it would be required. No mortal could handle that responsibility. But could he? He might have had the mind of an Ancient, but his body and soul were just as feeble as a mortal’s. Even more so, considering the burden that his mind placed upon the rest of his being.
“Gaya ng kalooban ng Ina,” Grimr said firmly. “It is as the Mother wills.”
The Mother. Those two words sent a strange shiver down Samuel’s spine. Who was the Mother? It was a common phrase to hear growing up in Harlest, but he’d always assumed it to be a local superstition. At the end of a harvest, they thanked the Mother. At a funeral, they gave the Mother’s Blessing to the departed, to wish them well in what came next. And on their name days, they gave thanks to the Mother for the world in which they lived, the things that gave them strength, and for their very lives.
“We have lingered too long,” Grimr said shortly. “Eyes will be upon us soon if we do not move.”
He shifted back into his original form and hopped back on Shigeru’s shoulder, his violet eyes locked onto the blue of Samuel’s. Feeling a bit numb with the revelations of the day, Samuel followed Shigeru as the warrior led the way off the estate and into the city below, his mind roiling with all sorts of new questions and things he wanted to know. But he could also sense that Grimr was no longer interested in answering his questions.
With an effort, Samuel pushed his new flood of curiosity down and changed the topic. Hurrying forward to pull up level with Shigeru, he gave the foreigner a quick sidelong glance. “So. How long do you intend to stay in Milagre?”
“As long as Grimr decides is necessary,” Shigeru replied shortly. “We are waiting until Grimr is ready to take on the next step of our journey.”
Samuel waited for him to say more, but that seemed to be the end of his answer. Not a man of many words, he thought. He supposed it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the warrior chose to speak very little, not after what he’d faced. To think that such tragic events could happen to one so young. Then, even worse, to have to fight such an uneven campaign when he was barely of age. Samuel was certain he’d never have the resolve to face such a daunting challenge.
“So,” Shigeru said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them. “Do you wish to visit the College straight away, or would you rather explore the town?”
The obvious answer was to visit the College, but he wasn’t sure he was mentally ready for what he might learn there. “What do you think?”
The warrior only shrugged, deflecting the question, and the responsibility of an answer, back onto him. “Your choice. This is your outing.”
Samuel frowned at him, just a little annoyed at how easily the foreigner had pulled that off. “Fine, then. Let’s go to the College. They’re opening their admissions today, aren’t they? I can enroll, and if I’m lucky, I can meet this Archmage Peran.”
Shigeru nodded his acceptance of the decision, showing neither pleasure nor displeasure at the choice. Samuel caught himself wondering if the warrior cared about anything at all, or if he lived by this angry indifference that he wielded as effectively as the swords at his waist. Normally, Samuel’s interest in people dwindled in the face of his thirst for knowledge. But Shigeru was an intriguing sort, and he felt, more and more, a powerful temptation to peel back that angry exterior. There was a powerful story to that man, he thought, and he was going to get it.
“Every great story needs an author,” he muttered. Shigeru turned his head quickly, his eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Samuel said quickly. He noticed the quick flicker of annoyance that crossed Shigeru’s face as he was the one to be stymied without learning the answer to his question. He couldn’t suppress a laugh at his expression. “Oh, Shigeru, we’re going to get along quite well, whether you want to or not.”