The canopy of trees was thick enough to nearly block out the sun, even at the very edge of the Dagorra forest. Samuel could tell the exact moment that they entered, for the light shining through the cloth covering of the wagon vanished, and he could no longer make out the words on the pages of the book. He glanced up as the light went out, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that always came with stepping under the dark trees.

“Not to worry,” Seamus said, the faint light glinting off his teeth as he smiled. “I prepared for this moment.”

There was the sound of some rustling, then a scraping noise. The candle the fat cook was holding ignited, giving off a small but persistent radius of light. He leaned forward to pass it to Samuel, who nodded his gratitude.

“I could have lit that for you,” Clara said. “We should save that in case of emergency.”

“You worry too much, dear,” the chef replied jovially. “It’s got plenty of juice left in it, lighting a few candles won’t hurt.”

And so saying, he lit another. This time, Samuel could see the small metallic object in his hand that he rubbed. It consisted of two metallic half-circles that, when ground together, produced a small flicker of sparks, then a tiny flame to light the candle.

“Magic firestarter,” He explained, noticing Samuel’s curious look. “The College made it. Marvelous tool. You can start a fire without flint, even if it’s raining!”

“They say it works underwater,” Clara added. Her dark brown eyes almost seemed black in the low lighting. “But we haven’t tested it yet.”

“Were you trained at the College?” Samuel asked her, forgetting his book for the moment.

She let out a soft laugh. “I wish. It costs quite a bit to get formal training as a mage. I was taught what little I know by my father. He was a cook too, in Lord Bragg’s estate.”

“‘Course, you could attend now,” Seamus put in. “The College is offering their core classes for free. Lord Bragg said you can take time off from your duties to study, and I’m sure Samuel wouldn’t mind either.”

Clara glanced across at Samuel for a moment, then shook her head. “No, it’s alright. I like cooking more than I like magic now.”

“Shame. I would have liked someone to study with,” Samuel said, and he meant it. “Mari’s probably well beyond me.”

“She’s a good mage, for sure. She’s specializing in Restoration. You’ll probably favor Transmutation.”

“I wouldn’t know. I know nothing about magic, except that I think I’ll like using it.”

There was a slight shaking from the cart then, and Ryoko appeared at the back. Samuel looked at him in some alarm. “The cart’s moving! You might fall!”

Ryoko shrugged the concern away. “I’m fast.”

Samuel saw that the small black cat was sitting on his shoulder, and showed no sign of discomfort at the crazy movement. He leaped lightly off the warrior’s shoulder as he stepped inside the wagon. The cat jumped onto the bench on Samuel’s right, and Ryoko sat beside it.

“I never asked,” Samuel said, as the thought occurred to him. “What’s his name?”

“Grimr,” Ryoko replied.

“That’s an interesting name. What language is it from?”

At that, the Nihon-Jan warrior could only shrug. Samuel supposed he hadn’t been the one to name it. He watched the cat now, who was staring directly at him. It made no noise and didn’t blink. This was fairly ordinary for cats, but as Samuel met the creature’s gaze, he couldn’t help but think that, somehow, this was the strangest cat he’d ever met.

“What book are you reading?” Ryoko asked, gesturing at the thick tome in his hands.

Samuel shook himself out of the strange daze that had claimed him at the sight of the cat’s violet eyes. “What? Oh! It’s A history of the Early Mortal Races and the First War. It was written by Archmage Evander Wembly.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Clara said. “He was the current Archmage Wembly’s grandfather. He’s a great writer.”

Samuel nodded his head in agreement. “I’m not that far through it yet, but I’ve learned loads already. Have you ever heard of the Ancients or the Draul?”

Clara shook her head, so Samuel continued. “Well, according to this book, they were among the first races to appear in the world. Wembly says they fought against the monsters that existed in the beginning, to make the world a safer place for the mortal races.”

She looked slightly doubtful. “Ah.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t make it up, but Archmage Wembly had a reputation for, err… getting his sources mixed up.”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Is he the one that claimed that there was an entire land under the surface of the world?” Seamus asked. “I think Mari mentioned a Wembly to me. Said that all the monsters escaped down there when humans defeated them.”

Besides Samuel, the black cat let out a rumbling grunt of a mew. To his ear, it sounded strangely like laughter. He looked at the cat quickly, but it had its head down, and appeared to be napping on the worn bench. So instead he looked at Ryoko. “Have you heard of anything like this?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know much about the history of the world. I was… otherwise engaged as I grew up in Nihon-Ja. But there are some that praise the Ancients. There are many legends that claim similar things, that they defended the mortal races in the First War.”

That was the most words he’d heard the warrior speak at once, Samuel thought. Ryoko seemed to realize it as well and clamped his jaw firmly shut. Seamus let out a quiet chuckle. “Well, a strong warrior like you would be busy with that civil war that happened. Hard to get an education in history when you’re fighting.”

“Civil war?” Samuel asked. He noticed the way Ryoko’s fist clenched where it rested on his knee. “I’ve never heard of any civil war.”

“Well, the news hasn’t made it very far yet,” the cook said, looking back to Samuel. “It’s known by a lot of people in the capital, though.”

“Hold on a moment,” Samuel said excitedly. He snapped the book on the history of the first war closed, then dug through his pack for his notes. “Aha! Here it is.”

He separated the sheets that held his notes on the tale of the two brothers from Nihon-Ja. Seamus leaned forward interestedly. “What’s that?”

“It’s a story I heard not too long ago,” Samuel explained. “It’s about two brothers from Nihon-Ja.”

He definitely didn’t imagine it this time, he thought. The Nihon-Jan’s fists clenched again, and he seemed to become very rigid. Grimr, meanwhile, lifted his head to look around at Samuel. Those unblinking violet eyes of his seemed to peer right through Samuel as if he were looking at something inside him, rather than his face.

“Two brothers?” Clara asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard this tale.”

“I barely heard any of it,” Samuel admitted. “I don’t think the bard that shared it knew the entire thing, to be honest.”

He told them of what he’d recorded, going past what he’d already thought of in the notes. The two young brothers had escaped the warlord and fled to the countryside, where they’d been taken in by a wise old master who lived on a mountain. The master had raised the boys into adulthood, training them to be warriors. Then, when they had come of age, they’d launched a campaign to liberate Nihon-Ja from the grip of the warlord, who had since become emperor, ultimately defeating him and restoring peace to the country.

“I thought it was just a tall tale,” he finished. “But now that you mention that civil war, I think it might be real.”

“They sound like fine young men,” Seamus said in awe. “That Shigeru’s a good fighter if he was able to defeat Hayakawa.”

“Hayakawa?”

“That was the name of the emperor,” the chef said. “He overthrew his ruler and claimed the throne for himself. The civil war ended when he was killed, and his armies disbanded.”

Samuel hummed thoughtfully. Maybe there was more truth to this story than he’d thought. “The story didn’t mention the name of the warlord, only the brothers. Shigeru and Reito Tokugawa.”

“Have you heard of these boys, Ryoko?” Seamus asked. “Did you fight with them in the civil war?”

Ryoko took a moment to answer, slowly turning to regard them all. Samuel was a little unnerved by the dark look in the man’s eyes, and the obvious anger that he couldn’t entirely contain. “I did. I never met them, but I fought against Hayakawa.”

If Seamus or Clara noticed the dark shadow that had fallen over the Nihon-Jan’s face, they made no comment, but Samuel thought they did look a bit more nervous than usual. Clara leaned across her mentor and asked, “So, is Shigeru a good Emperor, then?”

“What? I don’t think he’s emperor,” Samuel interrupted. “After all that he’d been through? There’s no way he’d accept the throne.”

There was a faint pause, then they turned to Ryoko again. This time, he was a little quicker in replying, and the anger in his face abated somewhat. “It is true. Another sits on the throne now. Emperor Atsu Hayakawa.”

“They let another Hayakawa rule?”

“Atsu never followed his cousin’s ways,” Ryoko said. “He fought alongside the rebel army from the beginning.” He paused then, apparently considering whether or not he wanted to say more. “I heard he did it because they didn’t want the throne, but didn’t trust anyone else to take it. Atsu is only the Emperor in name now. He shares his power with the common folk, the sages, and the army.”

“Not everyone can resist that kind of power,” Seamus said, nodding his head in approval. “Takes a strong sort to know when to step down and let others rule.”

Ryoko offered another shrug. “I didn’t stay long after the war ended. I got on a ship and came to Milagre barely a month later.”

“What brought you to this country?” Samuel asked. “You mentioned you wanted to go to Milagre, but not why.”

“That is my business,” Ryoko said brusquely. He turned his attention away from them then, staring out the back of the wagon, his hands still clenched tightly closed on his knees. The cat lowered its head and closed its eyes again to resume its nap. The others fell silent, sharing awkward glances; none of the wanted to press the issue. Samuel picked up the history tome again, but had barely opened it when he felt the wagon shuddering to a halt, and heard voices shouting outside.

“What’s going on?” He asked. In the tension of the moment and suddenly remembering where they were, the question came out a bit more strained than he’d intended. The answer wasn’t long in coming as Arthur came into view at the back of the wagon.

“We’re stopping for our mid-day break,” the grizzled steward said, unlatching the back panel. “Come and stretch your legs, sir. There’s a stream nearby, Seamus. I’ll send some of the men to fill buckets and replenish the canteens.”

Ryoko dropped gracefully out of the back of the wagon, followed by Grimr after the cat stretched luxuriously. Samuel copied the action, though perhaps not as nimbly. The long hours spent hunched over in the back of the wagon had stiffened his spine and joints, and he envied the others for their shorter frames, able to handle cramped spaces with more ease. He watched Ryoko as the warrior strode away, looking down at the cat as the pair moved into the trees.

“Not the friendliest sort, is he?” Seamus asked, clambering laboriously out of the cart with a grunt. “I don’t think he liked our questioning, my lord.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Samuel agreed. “And he’s been that taciturn since we met.”

“That one’s got a secret he doesn’t want to be known,” Arthur said with a nod, also watching the Nihon-Jan walking away. “But he’s certainly skilled, and we need that. We only have to deal with him until we reach Milagre. Then we can pay him and part our ways.”