“In here, please,” Ryllae Inaro said once they were clear of the docks. “We can speak without fear of eavesdroppers.”

She made an abrupt turn towards a huge three-story building facing the docks. It was a magnificent structure, with plenty of those fine arches and glass windows that signified the typical noble house. There was a small yard attached as well, with perfectly manicured hedges and flowers lining the path to the door. Ryllae’s attendant hurried forward to open the door, letting the Chancellor and her two guests file through before him.

There were two other figures in the entry hall who perked up at the Chancellor’s appearance, ready to serve whatever need she had. But she made a brief hand gesture dismissing them, and they retreated through a side door at once with bows, glancing curiously at the newcomers. Then the door closed with a soft click at the same time as the main door, and they were alone.

Immediately, Samuel felt an enchantment come to life on the doors, washing mana over the building, covering the floors, walls, and ceilings perfectly. He wasn’t sure if Tobi could sense the enchantment as well, but he figured so, as Tobi looked just as tense as himself.

“Worry not,” Ryllae said. “It is merely an enchantment to stop distant eyes and ears from prying.”

“What scrying do you have to fear?” Samuel asked with interest. “From what I understand, Zaban is not at war.”

“These precautions are not for enemies, but for allied,” she replied. “I stand in contrast to many of Zaban’s beliefs, and as such, I find it necessary.”

“How do you mean?”

“That will be explained in due time. Please, follow me.”

The Chancellor continued to lead her guests further into the house, passing through several smaller rooms and up a flight of stairs, eventually finding her way to an ornate office with a desk and chairs. There was beautiful artwork on the walls here, depicting the more rare moments in nature, and plenty of plant life thrived here, mostly flowers that he did not recognize. There was an alchemy bench in the far corner, hidden out of the way.

Samuel, as a student of observation, couldn’t help but notice that Ryllae’s stiff, upright demeanor changed subtly as they retreated further into the estate. Her formal air was slowly but surely relaxing, and her movements became less stiff. Once they crossed into her office, she let out a long breath as she settled into her chair, fully relaxed. This was very strange behavior, he thought.

“I do not enjoy the touch of modern civilization,” Ryllae said, gesturing for them to take seats across from her. “It is tiring, loud, and most of all, rank. Even in the more moderate Stormbreak Harbor, the senses are overwhelmed easily.”

And indeed, Samuel could notice a cleaner scent in the air in this building. Usually, with a large building such as this, a musty smell tended to hang about. But the mansion was home to a strange gentle breeze, keeping the air flowing while also cooling them off from the heat outside. Now that he was aware of the subtle effect of the breeze, he could feel himself relaxing as well.

“How could you tell that I’ve interacted with Grimr?” He asked at once. “It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw him. Surely his scent has washed off me by now.”

“It was an easy guess,” She replied. “I could tell at once that you are an Ancient. And as your ship came from Milagre, where there is only one other Ancient, it stood to reason that you have interacted with him.”

So she did not know about Longfang, he thought. Few people seemed to know of the young Ancient, he thought. That did track, as the white wolf was only a hundred years or so older than him, and had spent the majority of his life with Grimr and Shigeru. Grimr, meanwhile, was one of the oldest living Ancients, and had a powerful claim over the domain of Nature, so was more well-known.”

“So how can I help you?” Samuel asked after a short pause. “It’s clear you have some request to make of me.”

Ryllae smiled at him. “Quite. Based on your appearance, I would assume you were alive during the reign of Neratas. Am I correct?”

“Towards the end of it,” Samuel agreed. He chose not to mention that he’d fought the beast. “What of him?”

“Well, as you doubtless know, Neratas was overcome with corruption in his final years.”

Samuel nodded, the image of that massive black wolf looming in his mind momentarily. Even now, though he knew the beast was dead, he felt a shiver of fear crawl down his spine at the thought of Grimr’s elder brother. “Yes, I was aware. Is it corruption that you are dealing with? I don’t have the ability to cleanse corruption.”

“I am not sure,” she said with a thoughtful frown. “Whatever it is, it lies between the lakes. But the mages there are unwilling to share information. In addition, my people refuse to entertain such an idea in our nation, and I have been forbidden to leave my post.”

Samuel leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on his knee and resting his chin on his clasped hands. “Interesting. Still, if it is corruption, I cannot wipe it out. What do you expect of me?”

“I want you to find out exactly what it is. Report back to me, and, if necessary, you and I can call Grimr here to deal with it.”

“You want to summon a god?” Samuel asked with raised eyebrows. “That sounds impossible.”

“Not at all. All that would be required is a shrine for him to travel to. This is a divine ritual that has existed since the first gods came to be. But I am the only druid in all of Zaban that can perform it.”

“You’re the only one strong enough?” Tobi interjected. “I thought Zaban was filled with powerful druids?”

“It is,” Ryllae tilted her head towards Tobi. “But they still cling to the old ways.”

Tobi looked more confused at that answer, but Samuel finally understood her point. Suddenly, the purpose behind the protective enchantments made sense. It also went a long way towards explaining the Chancellor’s regards for her compatriots, and her fixation on Samuel’s connection to Grimr.

“They still worship Neratas,” he said bluntly. As Ryllae nodded, he leaned back in surprise. “They worship a corrupt god?”

Ryllae shook her head firmly, an irritated look crossing her face. “Neratas was not always corrupt. He was once a proud soul, and that is the entity they still acknowledge. They refuse to believe that he was ever corrupted, or that Grimr has taken his place.”

“I see,” Samuel said slowly. “Forgive my offense. There is much I do not understand.”

Ryllae made a quick gesture dismissing the need for apology. “But you see the situation I face. I cannot convince my compatriots of the truth, and their ignorance puts us all at risk. If there is indeed corruption, then it must be proven, and only an eyewitness can confirm its existence.”

“Let me guess,” Samuel put in quickly. “Your leaders have forbidden anyone from traveling to the center of the lakes to verify it.”

Ryllae did not say anything, but the look in her eyes confirmed his theory. He let out a long breath, thinking through the problem. He did know exactly what was required to cure corruption, as he had seen Grimr perform the feat with his own eyes. The only problem was that the feat was one only Grimr could reproduce, thanks to his unique trait. Just as Samuel could counter spells and reflect them back at the originator but not teach others how he could not learn Grimr’s ability.

“Very well,” he said. “I came here to meet the mages you mention and learn what I can from them, otherwise I would not involve myself in such a weighty affair.”

“Of course, I will reward your efforts,” Ryllae reassured him at once. “The druids of Zaban know many magicks, and I will teach them to you if you help us. I imagine that would interest you more than gold.”

“You are quite right,” he agreed. “I serve my own master, in a sense, and new knowledge is always welcome. For now, my companion and I will find some lodging for the night. In the morning, we will depart.”

The three of them stood then, and Ryllae offered them a deep bow, which they returned. “Thank you for your help, Archmage Bragg.”

“Please, just Samuel will do fine,” he replied. “I don’t like formalities.”

“I understand. Likewise, please, get some rest. I wish you well on your journey.”

They departed the Chancellor’s estate, heading further from the docks for a night’s rest. They found a simple tavern with free rooms, and, after a meal that was plain in the extreme, they went to their rooms. After more than a week on the constantly moving boat, Samuel found it difficult to sleep on a solid bed once more. But eventually, sleep claimed him.