The chamber was larger than he thought it would be. Lawrence had paid for a private sentō bath, and that’s what he got. It was very much in the way of the western style. The room had wooden floors and slats to allow overflow to drain away. On the walls were wooden panels and bamboo.

When he entered the bath was ready. It was large and oblong, the water steaming. He undressed and put his folded kimono on the bench. Before getting in he opened the window so the steam could escape the room.

On the far left was a large hearth, the flames there crackling under a large cauldron of water to reheat or refill the bath. It was summer, but the night was still somewhat cool. The hearth was situated far enough away that it wouldn’t cause too much heat to be sent his way, fortunately. He already had hot water to heat him.

Lawrence stepped in the bath, completely ignoring the initial pain from the heat of the water. He was filthy and he wanted to bathe. He did. Then he shaved his face clean.

When he was done, he sat, soaking in the tub. For a time he listened to the sounds of nightlife outside. There were plenty of carousers, laughing, talking and enjoying the night.

The failed mage closed his eyes and listened to the distant rumble of thunder. He would have to find some work soon. The silver he had taken from Sakura wouldn’t last but a few more days at the rate he was spending the coin. That was okay. He had nearly died. He wanted to be comfortable.

Ishi came to his mind, unbidden and unwanted. Of course, Lawrence didn’t own him, so he could do what he wanted. He wondered what would happen to the boy.

Probably find himself in the employ of another mercenary or soldier.

He could take care of himself.

The next thing Lawrence was going to do was to find some work and begin to rebuild his fortune. And hopefully his connections.

Before the war with Xai Qi, he had been quite famous in Omosaku. He was surprised no one had recognized him here. Unfortunately losing the war had cost him everything. He had no need to find out what happened. Everyone has known that had that battle been lost, the Emperor of Omosaku would capitulate completely and raid the fortunes of the nobles and other classes before attempting to make his escape into exile.

The Xai Qi Empire was ravenous and required more and more coin to support its wars of expansion. Now that Lawrence had been reduced to beggary, he wouldn’t be marrying Princess Miho. Despite being nineteenth in line to the royal succession, she would have made quite the prestigious wife. And she hadn’t been bad to look at, either.

There was no point to wondering what could have been, so he simply decided he would work to achieve what he had lost. It would take time. Perhaps he would go somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t in danger of being swallowed up by an expanding imperial power.

If he could—

His thoughts were cut off when someone started screaming. It was a woman. By the sound of it, her husband had probably been beaten in a drunken brawl or some such nonsense. Those sorts of things were common in areas where night carousing was frequent.

She wouldn’t stop. Certainly not helpful to relaxation, he thought.

And then another person was screaming, and in the same manor no less. Frantic, fearful screaming. What could it be? Had someone been killed? Fallen out of a window, perhaps?

He sighed, unable not to sympathize just a little. But it was rather annoying to listen to. “For the love of the gods,” he finally roared. “Shut that up!”

He listened. It certain did not stop, and it seemed there were voices added to the mix. A lot of them.

Is there some kind of street-side spectacle happening down there?

There was some movement. He could hear it. A lot of people moving about, running, talking, yelling. They were in the street too. He decided to get out of the bath.

He moved quickly, curious at what was happening, and whether or not there was any danger involved. It was potentially an opportunity to make some coin as well, or maybe just be seen doing a good deed. Fame was often part of fortune.

The failed mage moved to the hearth where there was a tall jug of warm water waiting for him. He poured it over himself to get the soap off his body, then dried himself with the linen.

Before putting on his kimono, he went to the window, completely naked, though his waist was covered. “What’s happening down there? Nani shiteruno desuka?”

Five heads looked up, their arms thrusting out in the direction of the palace. Lawrence leaned out the window to get a look and his eyes widened involuntarily.

Definitely an opportunity to make some coin!

The orange-red glow wasn’t massive, but large enough to mean there was a pretty big fire spreading either in or near the palace. The grey smoke was beginning its slow but inevitable blanket over the night sky in that direction, the brightly lit stars covered in murky haze.

Ishi was in the palace. So is Sakura and her family, he thought.

Forgetting coin, he decided to make his way to the palace immediately, though he lingered, watching for a few more moments. Just like him, people had their heads poked out of windows, wondering what the commotion was about. The streets were filling, and small knots of people were beginning to coalesce in the general area.

That meant panic and masses fleeing. It must have been bad. Lawrence strode to the hearth and began to draw the fiery energy momentarily living there. It was good energy. He had felt its power earlier after drawing some before his bath, but hadn’t wanted to put the fire out.

Now he had no reservations and drew every bit of the fire therein. The energy was thick and luminescent. It filled him. Not completely, but to about the half way mark, if there was a mark. He had enough to make the runes on his arms glow a dark red.

The failed mage turned to don his kimono and saw himself in the mirror. His irises were glowing, flecked with red ember as bright as the fire had been. He put on the kimono, tied the sash tight.

The only thing he was missing now was a proper sword. Not a katana. He didn’t like the saber style. He preferred a long narrow blade with a cutting edge on both sides that had a straight cross guard. Not because it was necessarily better for every situation, but because it had been the weapon he learned on, and he was skilled with this style of blade.

He strapped his waraji sandals on, and regretting his lack of a sword, he dashed out his door, making his way down the stairs.