It was a strange thing, to watch his young friend sail off without him.

Calbern had stood at master Perth’s side for over two decades. And while he’d come to accept that Percival had replaced the young master, there’d still been a sense of familiarity there.

Now he was… on his own. True, he had a task to complete, and then he’d return to Cape Aeternia. Assuming he survived long enough.

He flexed his wrist, inspecting the subtle hitch there. Percival hadn’t understood what he’d shown him. The way his Kinya had deviated… he’d seen similar before. Always in a Knight Exemplar a short time before their body turned against them.

Already, he’d survived longer than he’d expected. Perhaps Tender’s trials had helped.

Either way, it was of lesser concern.

He needed to track down Sebastian. Which meant returning to Lady Tamarah. Tamrie’s mother had said she’d check into the leads he’d gathered during his search.

A remarkably resourceful woman. In a way, she reminded him of Sidhe. Aranor’s sister had always done more with less. It was a shame that she’d always had a blind spot when it came to her brother and Balthum.

The woman was waiting on a small balcony with a kettle sitting on a small table to the side. Atop that table were two cups, steam rising in gentle waves, freshly poured. She’d known he was coming. Enchantments to track any who got close, no doubt.

Accepting the implied invite, he inclined his head in her direction before taking the proffered chair, staring out into the remarkable vista that lay above them. Truly, the more he say of the elven domain of Terra Vista, the more he understood why they’d chosen the name for it they had.

He took a single sip of the offered tea. A subtle citrus flavor, with a bittersweet aftertaste. Appropriate.

“Your fellow’s gone south,” Lady Tamarah said after allowing him his moment. “Hired a fleet of six, salvage ships all.”

“Salvage ships?” Calbern asked, expressing his curiosity with a twinge of his eyebrow.

“Meant for hauling wrecks up from the ocean floor. Either by pushing back the waves or a diving enchant. He’s got a few of each,” Lady Tamarah explained. “Doubt you’re interested in the specifics.”

“That would be master Percival’s domain,” Calbern admitted.

“He’s an… interesting one. Couldn’t get a proper read on him. Not what I expected from a Magus Dominus,” Lady Tamarah said, still staring out at the oceanscape above them.

“Magus Protectus,” Calbern corrected softly.

“Right. There’s some ancient history, right there,” Lady Tamarah said, shaking her head. “What’s my girl got herself mixed up in?”

Calbern remained silent, understanding the question wasn’t meant for him.

“Anyway, I have the names of the ships. And their first planned stop. Salvage ships are slow, so you’ve got a chance to catch ‘em,” Lady Tamarah said, turning towards him. “Now, it’s your turn. You bring what I asked?”

Calbern nodded, handing over several pages detailing the youth of master Perth. He’d checked with Percival before compiling it. The young master had laughed, shaking his head at the idea that she’d get anything useful out of it.

A fair point, in his estimation. Perth and Percival truly were different men.

The thought send a pang of sadness through him. Another reminder of how thoroughly he’d failed master Perth.

Pushing to his feet, Calbern inclined his head towards Lady Tamarah, who was paging through the densely packed report. “This’ll do, right enough,” she said, nodding before looking up at him. “You get that drowning bastard, you hear? Took more’n one of my friends down while on his little crusade. Ain’t no man that gathers those sorts that’s got anything good in mind.”

“I shall endeavor to do my best,” Calbern replied, with one final inclination of his head. “Take care of yourself, Lady Tamarah. Lady Tamrie would be most cross, were anything untoward to happen to you.”

“More’n like she would. Suspect your master Percival would feel much the same about you,” Lady Tamarah said.

“Just so,” Calbern admitted, his lip twitching upward.

Then he was striding away.

He had a ship to catch.

…MLI…

Booking a vessel south had been simple enough. Unfortunately, the captain had taken a liking to him.

He’d put her off as much as he could while remaining within the confines of politeness, yet some women were difficult to deter without resorting to less sophisticated means.

So Calbern had been forced to endure her advances.

It had made the normally rejuvenating experience of being upon a ship into a test of patience. Most things were a test of patience, though. Calbern had become long accustomed to dealing with worse over his years raising master Perth.

Still, the woman had a talent of showing up precisely when her presence would ensure she ruined the most profound moments of peace.

When he spotted their destination on the horizon, a small port fortress that stood towering above the sea, he let out a single soft breath of relief.

The voyage had been quick, at least. A single day and night.

Ignoring the captain’s attempts to persuade him to stay to the best of his ability, Calbern debarked, making his way through the busy port.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

While small in comparison to Spellford, it was still significantly larger than Cape Aeternia.

There were no refugees on the streets here. Whoever was in charge had decided the easiest way to deal with the refugee crisis was to simply deny them entry unless they could afford to pay for passage elsewhere.

In which case they’d be brought directly to the docks then shipped to their destination with no chance to rest within.

A reprehensible approach, in Calbern’s opinion. Especially since he’d learned Thozgar had offered to pay any required fees to bring refugees to Spellford.

The local lord had decided it wasn’t worth the hassle.

All of this, Calbern had picked up from the overly chatty ship captain. She had been a fountain of information, if nothing else.

A quick survey of the docks from the top of one of the warehouses revealed several promising sources of information. An older group of women who were gossiping around a cart of water barrels. An even older group of men doing likewise out front of a tavern.

Both excellent options.

The one Calbern chose to approach was a man selling grilled veggies to the passing sailors and fishermen. It hadn’t taken Calbern long to note that the man received a great deal more money than his fellow vendors despite providing substandard meals. The majority of his customers simply discarded the skewers once they were a few paces away.

At least the fish were well fed.

Silently sliding down the side of the building, Calbern took a moment to check the state of his equipment. Sword, sharpened and oiled. Boots, shined and polished. Suit, impeccably aligned.

Then he strode out of the alley, moving directly to the vendor.

It was clear when the man noticed Calbern approaching. The widened pupils, sudden increase in heartbeat and perspiration all gave it away.

An intriguing reaction.

The man managed to wrestle his fear down as he finished his transaction with his previous customer.

Only once they’d taken a few steps away did the man speak. “Whaddya want?”

“Greetings. I do believe you have information I require,” Calbern replied, a hundred-piece Wave appearing in his hand. “Information I’m prepared to pay generously for.”

The man’s previous fear warred with his greed, eyes flicking towards the pouch Calbern had retrieved the coin from. “Thinking I knows what you’re after. Nother fella like you, rights?”

Calbern allowed his right eyebrow to raise a degree at that. He was nothing like his former mentor. Though he knew that from the outside, it wouldn’t appear that way. “Just so.”

“Just missed him. Sailed south with his salvage fleet,” the man said, eyes watching the hundred-piece as Calbern rolled it across his knuckles. “But he left one of his men. To make arrangements for their haul, I heard.”

“A description and location, if you would be so kind,” Calbern said, allowing the coin to come to rest between his thumb and index finger.

The man rattled off both and Calbern flipped him the coin.

After shaking off the tail the vendor sent after him, Calbern took a moment to consider. He could wait and set an ambush. There was no doubt that the vendor had made arrangements with his former mentor. No possibility that Sebastian would leave such an obvious loose end otherwise.

Calbern wasn’t inclined to wait.

Setting an ambush would only set him further behind.

Instead, he followed the messenger boy, keeping to the rooftops, which were packed far too close together considering the wooden construction. Even a mortal could make most of the jumps between buildings, and a single spark could wipe out half the district. That the local lord allowed such and didn’t fashion stone buildings was pure negligence.

It didn’t take long before the boy reached a warehouse. One that was busy, over a dozen men moving supplies in and out, while a smaller group sorted them. Another crew was hanging a new door. It seemed his old mentor really was making arrangements. He doubted they were for the sort of salvage those ships would normally retrieve.

Less than a minute after the boy went inside a large man emerged from the warehouse with four others behind him, each armed. Two had stun rods but the others had their hands on swords, useless as they’d be, sheathed as they were.

The larger man had magical augmentations that replaced both arms, making him look half-Forgeborn. And he was powerful. Every Ascended being had signs, if one looked for them.

Some were better at hiding it than others. For example, Calbern would’ve believed High Shaper Thozgar to be completely mortal, if not for knowing who master Percival was talking to. Most mages overcompensated, lowering their draw on the local mana while making it too consistent. The High Shaper had made no such mistake. He’d even found a way to mask the heightened awareness every Ascended displayed, their tendency to take in their surrounding faster than most mortals.

An enchantment that slowed the apparent speed of his eyes.

A very thorough disguise.

The man in front of him didn’t even attempt to disguise those traits that made him more. A focus on strength, though there was speed there as well.

Intelligent enough to issue orders to the messenger boy, sending him off to warn another group.

If not for the man mentioning the address aloud, Calbern would’ve followed the boy and come back to deal with these men later.

Instead, he decided it was best to deal with their operation as efficiently as possible. Best to not let his mentor get too far ahead.

Despite his near utter silence as he descended, the large man noticed Calbern a second before he would’ve landed.

“Greetings,” Calbern said as he pushed off from the building even as a barrel smashed into it. “I do believe you have information I require.”

“Information you’ll pay generously for?” the large man asked, halting part way through lifting a second barrel.

Salted fish, if the same as the first.

“I’m afraid not,” Calbern replied, darting forward towards the large man. There was no point paying a man Calbern was honorbound to kill.

The man responded with the most obvious choice, tossing the barrel even as he shifted into a close range fighting stance. One that would allow him to easily catch Calbern’s blade. Not just strong, an experienced fighter.

A considerable threat.

For any other man.

It only took a minor tap with the back of his hand to deflect the second barrel into one of the large man’s minions. “We have neglected our manners. Allow me to introduce myself,” Calbern started.

“Don’t need to know your name,” the large man said, darting forward, one large hand extending far further than the design indicated it should.

A minor oversight on Calbern’s part, though not one he had difficulty side-stepping. Quite literally.

A gentle step upon the side of the gauntlet and the man found his fist emerging out the backside of the seconds of his sword wielding minions, one who’d been attempting to flank Calbern.

The other two hadn’t even started moving yet, clearly unused to violence. A kick at one of their stun rods as Calbern moved past had it impact the other, causing the man to collapse.

“What?” the first asked, looking down at his rod. He slumped to the ground half a second later as he was struck by his own tool discharging into his foot.

“Think you can just keep dancing around, old man?”

“A dance requires more grace than I’ve been able to display today, I’m afraid,” Calbern said, pushing off against the man’s gauntlet with the tip of his boot, allowing him to gain distance.

“Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted. We haven’t been properly introduced,” Calbern said, finally drawing his sword from its sheathe.

“I’m Deathfist,” the man said, flexing the fingers of his mechanical arms for emphasis.

Calbern inclined his head in the man’s direction. He’d thought so. One of the names on Tamarah’s list. Wanted for a number of crimes, though not terrible ones. A few murders, though only in the fighting pit he’d been part of. It was the murders that hadn’t made it to the official list that meant the man needed to die.

The name was a little on the nose, but Calbern could forgive such a young man their poor naming sense.

“And I am Calbern d’Esward, direct disciple of Sebastian d’Esward,” Calbern replied, bringing the sword to his forehead in a salute. “And today one of us shall meet the crimson goddess.”

It was rather disappointing, seeing the way the man’s face paled at his words. Perhaps it would’ve been best to forgo the introductions. Yet it was so rare to face a proper challenge these days.

He would’ve preferred Deathfist at his best.

Luckily, the large man rallied quickly enough.

“Crazy old man said you might come. Might test us,” Deathfist said, shaking his gauntlets. “Was expecting someone younger, to be honest, way he talked.”

“Test? Yes, I believe you shall be tested quite thoroughly,” Calbern said, inclining his head a degree.

The signal was understood, and both men resumed their duel.

Only now, Calbern was able to focus. As death approached, everything felt…

Just so.