Samuel shot up without warning, startling the black cat on his chest and bowling it over backward. Grimr let out a hiss of annoyance as he was displaced but recovered quickly, regaining his feet and jumping lightly onto one of the benches. The first thing Samuel saw as he looked around was Arthur. The warrior-turned-steward’s face was pale with relief, and his breathing looked a little ragged. An awfully strong reaction when he’d only been out a few hours.

“My lor-, err, Samuel,” he said, catching the mistake quickly. “I’m relieved to see you awake. You had us all worried there for a while.”

“Sorry,” he said at once. He tried to sit up, but his head spun horribly at the movement, and he desisted for the moment. “I'm sure it couldn’t have been a pleasant night for you.”

“Night?” Arthur’s face showed blank confusion. “Sir, you were unconscious for the better part of three weeks.”

“What? How could I have slept for three weeks?”

The steward shrugged, indicating his lack of understanding. “I’m not sure. I thought you just had mana fatigue at first. That spell you produced was so powerful, it was bound to knock you out. But normally, mages heal from their fatigue much more quickly. It was as if your mind had been locked away, and took too long to regenerate.”

That made Samuel think of the cave, and of the glowing ball of light and energy that had talked to him. Had his conversation with Arcana been real, then? Or had it been some fever dream brought on by his drained and exhausted mind? He couldn’t be sure. While the entire experience did have a dream-like quality to it, it also remained a clear and persistent memory, too clear for him to dismiss it as a product of his imagination.

He and Arthur weren’t the only ones in the wagon, he saw. Ryoko sat on the far side of one bench, his head turned toward the outside of the wagon, staring back along the road they were traveling. There weren’t any signs of trees from the patch of sky that Samuel could see. They’d made it through the Dagorra Forest then, he thought with a wave of relief. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing more bandits ever again if he could help it.

“Were there any others lost?” He asked Arthur then. “In the fight against the bandits, I mean.”

“One,” the steward said. “Another was injured, but not badly. He’s already back to fighting shape.”

So one of his guards had died. Samuel hadn’t gotten to know any of his guards particularly well, save for Torrand, but he still felt a shaft of pain and remorse in his heart. In a way, it was because of Samuel that the man had died. He’d been hired on to guard the new noble after all. He caught Arthur’s eye and sensed that the steward knew what he was thinking.

“It is not your fault, Samuel,” he said. “Roger knew what he’d signed up for, and he was well paid for it. I’ll see to it that his family is fairly compensated for their loss, and they’ll have the chance to care for his remains however they see fit.”

Samuel supposed that was the best he could hope for, given the circumstances. He resolved to visit whatever temple the man ended up at, to give his thanks and pray for the god or goddess to treat him well in the next life. He wanted to ask more about the fight, but Arthur was rising to his feet now.

“Forgive me sir,” he said, his voice back to its usual crisp, business-like tone. “But I have to see how the procession is faring. I’ve waited by your side long enough, and there are duties I must see to. Ryoko will keep watch over you while you regain your strength.”

He glanced in the direction of the Nihon-Jan warrior, who turned his head around and nodded solemnly. Samuel couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be an air of mutual respect between the two men, where before there had only been indifferent courtesy. Arthur clambered over the gate of the wagon, then dropped to the ground and strode briskly forward, already calling out to the other guards.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Samuel said, as soon as the steward was out of sight. “You’re an incredible shot with that bow.”

Ryoko gave an indifferent shrug. “All noble boys of Nihon-Ja are taught to use the sword and the bow at a young age. I was a competent shot by the time I reached my tenth year.”

So he was a noble then. That was the first detail about his life that the foreigner had revealed thus far. Ryoko seemed to realize it as well, for he turned away to stare out the back of the wagon again. Samuel’s gaze then fell onto the black cat, who had curled up on the bench beside his owner. Not for the first time, Samuel thought that it was an exceptionally rare creature. Even among its own kind, it was strange. He remembered how the small cat had leaped onto his shoulder, right before casting that spell.

There had been other parts of that fight that had been strange as well, he reflected. That voice. It had been different from Arcana’s. Deeper, and with a sort of dry growl to it. Maybe the animal was magical in some way. That could explain why Samuel’s body had locked up without warning, and how he’d used magic without conscious thought. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, doing his best to ignore the pain that movement brought to his head.

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“You’re not a normal cat,” he said, speaking directly to Grimr. He intentionally addressed the creature rather than Ryoko. Some instinct told him that the cat could understand human speech. “I’m not even sure you are a cat.”

As he said the words, Grimr lifted his head, opening those glowing violet eyes once more. And once again, that voice sounded in his head, sounding as if it were coming from the depths of his own mind.

I wondered how long it would take you to figure that out. You’re clever for your kind, young mortal. Though I shouldn’t be too surprised. You have the scent of an Ancient upon you.

Beside him, the corner of Ryoko’s mouth turned slightly upward. Not quite a smile, but close. That made Samuel think of another part of the battle. Grimr had spoken to him directly, shortly before Ryoko had made that first killing shot with his bow. What was it he had said? Something about staying calm and stalling for time? Then he remembered the full message and realized its significance.

“You’re Shigeru,” he said. The corner of the warrior’s mouth shot down in a grimace, and his entire body froze. In an instant, he looked ready to kill, though he didn’t move. Undaunted, Samuel continued. “I thought you reacted oddly to that story about you. At first I thought it had just reminded you of the trauma of all that fighting. But it makes sense now. You’re Shigeru Tokugawa.”

Grimr looked between the two of them, then let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter. The warrior took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before he replied. “Will you tell the others?”

“Why would I tell them? Also, why would they care who you are? You’re not wanted in this country, are you?

“I have no desire to be Shigeru Tokugawa anymore. That name belongs to a part of me that should have died long ago. As far as I’m concerned, it died the day my brother did.”

That was a shocking revelation. Nothing in the story Samuel had heard from the bard mentioned that the other brother had died. He felt yet another wave of sorrow wash over him. He wanted to offer his condolences but sensed that they would be neither welcome nor tolerated. So instead, he changed the topic, letting the revelation of Shigeru’s identity go for the moment.

“What is an Ancient?” He asked, returning his attention to the small black cat. “I’ve heard of them, of course. Nearly everyone has. But we don’t know anything about them.”

The Ancients are the oldest race in the world, Grimr’s voice sounded in his mind once more. We were created by the Mother to defend this world and to fulfill a unique purpose in it.

A unique purpose. The words sent a shiver of premonition down Samuel’s spine. “Do you know of Arcana?”

I know of him by many names. That is a fairly new one. And there can be only one reason that you know this name. I sensed your mind leave you, but I did not know where it went. So it is you.

There was something about the way the Ancient said the words that made Samuel realize; he not only knew about Arcana but the purpose for which Samuel had been created. Strangely, none of the irritation that he’d felt in Arcana’s presence came back to him now. “You’ve known all this time?”

Of course not. I am not omniscient. But I can recognize my own kind, and I recognized you as soon as I saw you. But you are too young, and incomplete. You have the mind of an Ancient, but the rest of you is mortal.

Shigeru turned around again, but his face showed more interest than anger. A third voice sounded now. It mimicked him perfectly, but as with Grimr’s, it appeared to originate from within his mind. Is that why you convinced me to let them hire me?

Why else would I show any interest in a mortal? The last interesting mortal I met was during the First Wars, as you well know. I’m curious to see where this one goes. You have great potential, Samuel Bragg. You’ve been given a rare gift, and I’m interested to see what you do with it.

“How did you do that?” Samuel asked Shigeru, his eyes wide. “You can speak with your mind like he can? I thought you were human.”

“I am,” the warrior said shortly. “But it’s a technique that anyone can learn. Try it for yourself.”

Samuel tried it. It was an incredibly strange sensation, for he’d never before attempted to think at someone. But once he’d worked it out in his mind, it felt just as easy as speaking normally. What is the First War?

You know the story already. You spoke of it with the others, before the fight.

Samuel cast hs memory back over what felt like months, though he’d been unconscious for so long that it also seemed an instant. The monsters. Chaos and Corruption. Even Arcana had spoken of the last one.

See? You know. You may only know it as myth and legend, but you know the history. The world has forgotten its origin, but we remember.

Samuel gave up on speaking with his mind, as each attempt made his head spin again. “You fought in those wars so long ago? Just how old are you?”

I haven’t bothered to count the years. I slept through many of them until I met Shigeru. But I am one of the oldest. There is only one more Ancient than I.

As he spoke the last sentence his voice finally showed some sign of emotion. Anger. Grief too powerful to grasp. A resolution for justice. Just what had caused Grimr to bond himself to a mortal being? There was more to that story, Samuel thought, but he didn’t feel quite up to picking away at it just yet. In any event, he heard raised voices before he could speak further. At first, thinking of the bandits, he tried to push himself up, a cold sense of fear washing over him.

About time, Grimr said, stretching luxuriously on the bench. We’ve reached the capital.