“So you’re Samuel! You look a lot like your father.” The voice, bright and cheerful, broke through Samuel’s concentration, and he looked up from his notebook.

They had departed early the next morning before most of the residents of Harlest were awake. Being the fifth and final day of the week, even the farmers were sleeping later than usual, enjoying a late morning before tending to their fields. Samuel had spent the night in a comfortable room above the taproom of the Nook Inn, courtesy of Thomas. Then he’d provided them a sumptuous breakfast to start their day off.

Now Samuel sat on a plump cushion in the carriage, in a small but comfortable closed-off space, along with Seamus, Arthur, and Arthur’s daughter, Rebecca.

“Sorry, Rebecca. What was that?” He asked with an apologetic note, focusing on the girl.

She looked nothing like Arthur, he thought. While Arthur was short, bulky, and square, she was tall, thin, and willowy. Her hair was a dark blonde, hanging in curiously rigid curls that framed her face. The light breeze that came through the window of the carriage ran through her hair so that it waved gently in the late morning. A pout formed on her face.

“I said,” she rolled her eyes, drawing out the last word. “You look a lot like your father!”

She smiled dazzlingly at him again, and he blinked back. She was pretty, he supposed, but he much preferred women like Sera. Shorter, with a bit more curvature to the body. He half smiled in response, unsure of what she wanted from him.

“So I’ve been told.” He said, in a non-committal sort of way.

Several long minutes passed in silence, then Samuel looked back down to his notebook. On the floor next to him was his rucksack, and he now dug inside it to fetch some of the papers he’d used to record stories. Arthur noticed the action and set down the scroll he’d been studying.

“Ah yes. I remember those papers. What are they, exactly?”

Samuel pulled the most recent notes from the pile, those papers that contained the stories he’d heard in the past few months. “They’re stories that I’ve heard from travelers and bards that visited Harlest.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up in surprise as he remembered the massive stack of papers in Samuel’s house. “You’ve been taking notes that long? How many stories have you heard?”

Samuel passed the newer notes to him and shrugged. “Must be hundreds by now. I do it every time someone has a new story. My hope is to compile them all into books so that they can be shared more easily.”

Arthur looked down at the notes in interest. “That sounds like quite the task, young master.”

Samuel nodded. “I know it will be a long one, at least. But it’s what inspired me to travel.”

Arthur looked up quickly, catching the brief light of glee in Samuel’s eyes. “I take it you’ve wanted to travel for quite a while? Is it just stories you’re after?”

“What else can I do? I already have maps from all around the country, and even quite a few from around the world.”

Arthur shrugged. “These notes are excellent. You seem to have a knack for research. Have you considered trying to join the Mage’s College?”

“Yes,” Samuel said, nodding. “But up until yesterday, I didn’t have any way to go there.”

Arthur nodded his understanding. “Well, the College is only a few miles from the estate, young master. Perhaps when you finish resting from your journey, you can take the chance to apply.”

This prospect pleased Samuel greatly. Not for the first time, he felt a surge of satisfaction that he’d finally gotten this lucky chance. Outside, he heard one of the guards call an order, and the carriage came to a stop.

“What’s happened?” Samuel said quickly, his nerves mounting as he remembered the reports of travelers being robbed in the area. “Have bandits been spotted?”

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “I don’t think so. It’s time for the mid-day break.”

Samuel let out an embarrassed laugh. “Right. Well, after you.”

The four of them clambered out of the carriage, hopping down to the ground and stretching. The inside may have been comfortable while sitting, but it was a cramped space, and Samuel’s back ached from the hours spent hunched over.

Arthur was still studying the notes, an approving look on his face. Then the look changed to one of puzzlement and confusion. “What’s this story? There don’t seem to be many notes.”

Looking curiously to see which notes Arthur was referring to, he sighed. “Yes. The bard who told me that story didn’t seem to know much. I’m hoping I can pick up the rest of the tale somewhere else.”

“Hmm.” Arthur mused. “It is an interesting story. They seem like tough ones, these Tokugawa boys.”

A very odd thing happened then. A few feet away, Ryoko was pacing around the carriage, searching the trees around them for any incoming threats. When the name Tokugawa, the family name of the two boys from the legend was mentioned, he just happened to slip on a loose pebble, and he nearly fell over.

Arthur, who hadn’t noticed this, continued on with his thoughts. “I wonder if the boy Shigeru ever became emperor. A character like that could be a strong ally for Gorteau.”

Samuel shrugged, watching Ryoko move again out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not so sure.”

Arthur looked at him quickly, and so, several feet away did Ryoko. “You don’t think he’d make a strong ally?”

Samuel shook his head. “I’m not saying that. I don’t think he became emperor if he was wise. All that bloodshed? In his place, I’d leave it to someone capable, someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.”

Then, something clicked into place in the back of his mind. As casually as he could, he looked over to Ryoko. “Have you heard this story, Ryoko-san?”

The foreigner approached closer. His expression was guarded, almost wary. “I have heard this tale, yes.”

Arthur turned towards him. “And? Did the young boy become the emperor?”

Ryoko hesitated for only a few seconds before replying, though Samuel was sure he was doing some very quick thinking. Finally, he spoke. “I heard he gave the throne to someone else.”

“Makes sense,” Samuel said. “I wonder where he is now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “The young Tokugawa boy? Why does that matter? This story must be old, to have reached us here.”

Unnoticed by Arthur, Samuel, and Ryoko were staring fixedly at each other. Samuel wondered whether Ryoko guessed what he was thinking. Breaking the eye contact, he shrugged and turned back to face Arthur once more. “As I said, I want to complete the story. Every great story needs an author.”

Arthur seemed satisfied with the answer. Samuel noticed that Ryoko continued to watch him closely. The foreigner’s hand drifted almost unconsciously to the sash at his side, where two curved blades lay. Affecting not to notice, Samuel went to the opposite side of the cart, disappearing from the others’ point of view. He had an inkling of an idea, as well as a way to prove his new theory.

As quickly as he could, he grabbed one of the waterskins from the provisions. Judging by its weight, it was almost completely full. Pulling the stopper loose, he took several deep drafts from it, his face twisting at the taste of stale water. Then he flipped the skin over, emptying its contents into the grass.

“Aww, my waterskin is empty.” He said in a carrying voice, then returned to the others.

Arthur was already reaching for the skin he kept on his waist. “Here young master, you can have some of mine.”

Samuel waved a hand in dismissal. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just go refill it. I think I can hear a stream over there.”

He started walking in the direction he’d indicated. He had no idea if there was a stream in that direction, but that was of little importance. Then, almost as if on an afterthought, he turned back. “Ryoko, will you accompany me? There might be bandits in the area, after all.”

Ryoko’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. As a guard hired to safeguard Samuel, it would have been suspicious to refuse his request. He caught up in a few quick strides. It was then that Samuel noticed a small black shape moving beside the warrior.

“Is this your pet?” he asked brightly, crouching down to get a better look. It was a black cat, he saw upon closer inspection. Coming up to Ryoko’s knee, he guessed that it was fully grown. Then it turned to look directly at him, and he felt his stomach clench slightly in shock. Instead of the normal yellow, green, or even white, this cat’s eyes were a bright vibrant violet.

“Yes,” Ryoko responded shortly. “His name is Grimr.”

Samuel had been on the verge of reaching out to pet the cat, but withdrew his hand as soon as the cat revealed its eyes. The small creature kept its eyes locked on him, in that strange unblinking way that cats have.

“Ah.” Samuel couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he turned and continued walking.

The three of them, with Samuel slightly in the lead, paced into the forest, weaving their way among the trees. Samuel began to feel a bit more nervous as he still heard no evidence of a stream nearby, but he’d already achieved his goal of getting Ryoko away from the others. He stopped walking. Ryoko did as well. Both of them were silent for several seconds, though they felt like tension-charged minutes to Samuel.

“So you have figured out who I am,” Ryoko said quietly. Samuel did not turn to face him, but he could feel the tension practically radiating from the foreigner. His hand was surely clenched upon the handle of one of his swords as if expecting a fight.

Samuel didn’t reply at first but took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. “Yes,” he said simply.

“How did you figure it out?” Ryoko asked. Samuel did turn around then, and sure enough, Ryoko was holding his weapon in a tight grip, every line of his body tensed. He vaguely resembled a panther, ready to pounce and silence his prey with one swift stroke.

Samuel spread his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I had the first inkling back in Harlest when you introduced yourself. I thought the name Ryoko sounded familiar.”

“A Nihon-Jan name sounded familiar?” Ryoko’s voice was scornful.

Samuel nodded slowly, trying not to move too quickly and provoke an attack. “Well, more specifically, it reminded me of another word. Ryoko-sho. It means ‘traveler’ in Nihon-Jan, doesn’t it?”

Ryoko nodded nearly as slowly as he had. “Yes, it does. But there are people in Nihon-Ja with that name. That shouldn’t have given me away.”

Samuel shook his head, making a small gesture of agreement. “True. But I saw your first reaction when Arthur mentioned the name Tokugawa.”

They stared at each other for several seconds, then Samuel continued. “But I am right, aren’t I? You’re Shigeru Tokugawa.”

The pause after his question felt like an eternity in the tension-charged atmosphere. Ryoko’s face showed no sign of anger, nor of fear. It was impassive and cold, which was much more frightening than any outward display of emotion. Finally, he replied.

“Why does my name matter to you?” His voice was still quiet, but there was an unmistakable note of challenge in it now.

Samuel could think of a few different responses. But after a moment’s deliberation, he shrugged and decided on the truth. “Because if you are Shigeru, then it means you’re a legend, and I’d like to know more about your story. I promise that none of us are your enemies.”

Samuel let him process this for a bit, then added. “Also, I may not know much about magic, but I’m willing to bet that’s not a normal cat.”

Ryoko turned to glance at Grimr as the cat was mentioned, and did not reply. Turning back to face Samuel, his face had not changed even slightly. The cat looked from Samuel to the warrior, almost as if seeking guidance. Or perhaps giving advice. Then, unexpectedly, the warrior started to laugh. It started as a small snort but quickly grew into a deep booming laugh as he doubled over. Samuel looked on in confusion, wondering what he’d said that was so funny. Finally, Ryoko straightened up and managed to stop laughing.

“Yes,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I am Shigeru Tokugawa. I knew you would figure that out eventually. You looked too smart to trust from the start.”

Samuel lowered his hands and breathed a sigh of relief. “I am trustworthy,” he said, a bit defensively.

Shigeru shook his head. “I don’t mean to say that you are untrustworthy. I just knew it was a risk joining you.”

Seeing the slight grin on Shigeru’s face, Samuel finally relaxed. “Well, sorry to have ruined your secret.”

“It is of no consequence. I have decided to trust you now. And you were also correct about Grimr.”

Looking at the black cat now, Samuel’s eyes widened, and he took a step back in surprise. The cat was gone. In its place was a young boy, with shaggy brown hair that reached past his shoulders and almost covered his eyes. His clothes seemed to be made of animal hide, and he was holding a small wooden knife that resembled a child’s toy. Even in this human form, there was something about the feline that lingered about his features, Samuel thought. His eyes were also still a deep, bright violet in color.

“Pleasure to meet you, Grimr,” Samuel said hurriedly, attempting to hide his shock at the sudden transformation.

The boy smirked. He had a tribal atmosphere about him, something that said he’d grown up hunting and pacing through the trees. His voice when he spoke also took Samuel by surprise. It was gravelly and much deeper than expected.

“You have sharp eyes. Like a hawk.” He had no discernible accent, and despite his shockingly outlandish appearance, he even sounded like he was from Gorteau.

Samuel dipped his head slightly. “Well, thanks for that. So what happens now?”

Grimr tilted his head to the side, not understanding. That too was a very cat-like action. “What do you mean?”

Samuel gestured around him to the empty forest. “I’m all alone, at your mercy, and I’ve uncovered the secrets you were trying so hard to protect. Will you silence me and make your escape?”

Shigeru and Grimr looked at each other, a silent message passing between them. Samuel waited anxiously for their reply. He didn’t really think that they’d kill him. Shigeru for one seemed like a very honorable man. However, he had just stumbled upon a secret of great importance. It wouldn’t surprise him if they at least made some demand for his silence.

“No,” Shigeru said finally. “As I said, I trust you now. And I don’t think your companions are up to anything evil either. I do not mind if they know my secret.”

Samuel heaved another sigh of relief. “Well, at least that’s good to know. I’m honored that you’d trust me. I have no doubt that, if you wanted to, you could kill Arthur, the guards, and myself without much trouble.”

Shigeru made no response to this, but Grimr nodded, smirking again. “Easily.”

Samuel smiled, a little wistfully. “Who knew I’d run into two legends so soon in my life.”

“Only one.” Grimr corrected him. “I am unknown, and I wish to keep it so until I have fulfilled my purpose.”

Samuel waited for him to explain what he considered to be his purpose, but Grimr made no sign of elaborating further. “Of course I will keep your secret. Though it will be a shame not to be able to talk to you and hear your story.”

“That will not be a problem,” Grimr said drily. He closed his eyes, and instantly shrank back down into the shape of the black cat, and blinked his violet eyes at Samuel.

Just because I cannot speak, does not mean I cannot communicate. A voice, exactly like the one Grimr had just used, sounded in the back of Samuel’s head. He clapped his hands to his ears in surprise, looking back at the cat on the ground.

“How are you doing that?” He asked incredulously.

“Answer him in your own head,” Shigeru said quietly. “That way, others will not know you are communicating.”

Samuel tried. It felt extremely odd to think at something, but he gave it his best shot. Hesitantly, he looked at the cat.

How are you doing that? He wasn’t sure if the thought had crossed over at first, but Grimr’s reply was almost instant.

It is just one of my many tricks. It is ancient magic, and weak, though still useful.

Samuel nodded his understanding. He’d heard of mages communicating by mind before, but never thought it’d be possible with a cat. Though, he reasoned, Grimr was obviously not a cat.

What are you, exactly? You’re not a cat, but you’re clearly not human, either.

I am an Ancient. A remaining survivor of a long-forgotten race, from the early days of this world.

An Ancient. Samuel had heard stories of the Ancients, of course. They were rumored to be the builders of the world. They had lived at its birth when Ahya was one land and were supposedly the reason it had broken into seven pieces. But he’d never heard of any Ancients still living. Then he reasoned that any living Ancients would most likely refuse to proclaim their status, and instead live in secrecy.

“Well, that’s enough for introductions,” Shigeru said, jolting Samuel away from his thoughts. “If we don’t head back now, the others will wonder what happened to us.”

Samuel agreed, but for one thing. “I haven’t filled my waterskin yet.”

Shigeru shrugged. “Your fault for emptying it in the grass then.”

Samuel laughed aloud, surprised. “You knew I did that?”

Shigeru raised an eyebrow at him. “You went behind the wagon without a waterskin, and came back with an empty one.”

“Then why did you come with me if you knew I was on to you?”

Shigeru’s face was dead serious as he replied. “That way, if you couldn’t be trusted, I could silence you and get away.”

A strong shiver went down Samuel’s spine at the words, but he forced a smile onto his face. “Well, good thing you trusted me. I’m not quite ready to die.”

Shigeru’s face relaxed into a wide grin. “Yes, I could tell that. Here.”

He fished an extra waterskin out of his belt, and handed it to Samuel, taking the empty one he’d been holding. “Don’t spill that one.”

Samuel laughed again as he turned around, leading the way back to the camp. “If you say so, Shigeru-san.”

“Just Shigeru is fine if you please. We are allies now.” Shigeru said quietly.

“Sure!” Samuel agreed readily. “And you can just call me Samuel.”

They paced back to camp in a much lighter atmosphere, talking amicably. The rare dry comment or sarcastic joke from Grimr made Samuel laugh again, and he began to feel more curious about the strange creature.

How do you fit into Shigeru’s story, Grimr? He thought in the back of his head. There was a slight pause, then Shigeru spoke.

“I met Grimr shortly after I fled my family’s estate. He is the reason I managed to escape, and he led me to my master.”

“The one who taught you how to use the sword?” Samuel asked.

Shigeru nodded. “Among other things, yes. His name is Raveonic the Wise.”

Samuel frowned thoughtfully. “That doesn’t sound like a Nihon-Jan name.”

Shigeru shook his head. “He is not Nihon-Jan. I do not know where he is from, but he has been everywhere.”

Samuel thought that he’d quite like to meet this Raveonic, but the camp was coming into proper view now, so he dropped the matter. There had been a small fire pit built in their absence, and Seamus was busy putting a quick meal together, assisted by two others in white coats. Arthur, who was scanning the forest around them with a mildly apprehensive look, spotted Samuel approaching and relaxed.

His look carried an unmistakable question with it, but Samuel made a small negative gesture. He’d explain later when they were on the road once more. Then his eyes continued their sweep of the temporary camp, and he frowned slightly.

“Where’s Rebecca?” He asked. For a second, Arthur looked confused and turned to scan the area where the wagon sat, with the horses resting nearby.

The look of confusion quickly turned into a slight frown of concern as he got to his feet and walked quickly to the wagon. He was missing from sight for several seconds but came back into view shaking his head. Feeling slightly concerned himself, Samuel began to peer among the trees for the blonde head but was distracted immediately by Shigeru’s voice.

“Bandits,” he spoke in a low hiss. Wondering what he was talking about, Samuel whirled to follow his gaze.

Standing about fifty feet from the camp, just visible against the green and gray background of the forest, stood a small group of men. Samuel counted quickly and saw that there were twelve men, all armed, all bearing wolfish grins on their faces. And the man who was obviously in charge was holding Rebecca close to his chest, a wickedly sharp knife pressed to her throat.