THE FRAUD

Marcus found Sister Korra sitting alone beside the soldiers' campfire the evening before their departure. She studied what looked like a leather-bound journal by flickering light. The other guards were busy with quiet conversation or tending equipment, creating a pocket of privacy around the military chaplain.

Marcus approached slowly, clutching his carefully prepared questions. His research in the university library had given him a framework for inquiries that might seem natural from a curious village youth.

"Sister Korra?" he said softly. "Might I speak with you?"

She looked up from her journal, green eyes reflecting the firelight. "Of course, Marcus. Please, sit." She gestured to a flat stone beside the fire. "Though I confess surprise to see you awake at this hour. Tomorrow begins a long journey."

Marcus settled beside her, his notebook hidden in his jacket. "I've been thinking about what you said. About the capital having resources for learning. And I... I have questions. Many questions."

"Curiosity serves the faithful well," Sister Korra said, closing her journal and giving him her full attention. "What troubles your mind?"

Marcus took a careful breath. "The stars. Do you know them? Can you read their meanings?"

Sister Korra's expression sharpened with interest. "You ask of celestial navigation? Such knowledge typically belongs to ship captains and learned astronomers."

"I've watched them since childhood," Marcus said, true enough. "Some nights, I see patterns. Movements. I wonder..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Are they the same everywhere? If I traveled far enough, would I see different stars?"

"A profound question." Sister Korra leaned forward. "The star charts speak of different constellations visible from distant lands. Sailors who trade with the eastern kingdoms tell of unfamiliar star patterns. But the great celestial bodies, the moon, the wandering stars, these remain constant."

Marcus felt his pulse quicken. "The wandering stars?"

"The bright lights that move against the star field. The red wanderer, the morning star, the swift messenger." Sister Korra gestured toward the sky. "Learned men debate their nature, but sailors use them for navigation across great distances."

The red wanderer. Mars? The morning star, Venus? Marcus's heart raced as he realized Sister Korra was describing the same planetary system he knew from his modern world. Maybe this was a parallel universe, same Earth. Vague names and poetic descriptions proved nothing, but it was a start.

"Have your people always known of these things?" Marcus asked. "The star patterns, the wandering lights?"

"Ancient knowledge, preserved by the learned orders." Sister Korra studied Marcus with growing curiosity. "But tell me, what prompts such questions? Most farm youth concern themselves with more immediate matters."

Marcus opened his mouth to respond, but heavy footsteps interrupted him. A short figure emerged from the darkness beyond the firelight, a man in his middle years wearing the ornate armor of a high-ranking officer. Even in the dim light, Marcus could see the intricate metalwork and multiple insignia marking him as someone of considerable importance.

"Sister Korra," Commander Cain said in a voice that carried natural authority. "Forgive the interruption. I was making final rounds before tomorrow's departure."

"No interruption at all, Commander Cain." Sister Korra rose respectfully. "I was speaking with Marcus of Millhaven. The young man I mentioned who shows remarkable innovation for one of his... background."

Commander Cain's gaze fell on Marcus, who felt suddenly very small beside the fire. The commander was perhaps forty years of age, with graying hair and eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. His presence commanded immediate attention in a way that had nothing to do with his rank insignia.

"Ah yes, the village innovator," Commander Cain said, settling onto a log with the casual confidence of someone accustomed to being obeyed. "Sister Korra tells me you've been making writing tools from bark and ash. Clever work."

"Simple necessity," Marcus said quickly, but Commander Cain held up a hand.

"Please, demonstrate this writing system. I confess curiosity about such remarkable creativity from..." He paused delicately. "From someone without formal education."

Marcus hesitated, then pulled out his bark paper and crude pencil. Under the commander's watchful gaze, he carefully wrote: "Commander Cain leads with wisdom."

Commander Cain examined the marks with the attention of someone evaluating evidence. He studied the consistent letter forms, the systematic approach to representing sounds, the practical engineering of the writing materials themselves.

"Fascinating," he said finally. "Sister Korra, would you excuse us? I believe Marcus and I should speak privately."

After Sister Korra departed with obvious reluctance, Commander Cain fixed Marcus with a gaze that seemed to look straight through him.

"Before we continue," Marcus said quickly, "there's something I should mention. About one of the refugees."

Commander Cain's expression shifted to attention. "Go on."

"A woman named Celestine. She arrived three days ago with a group from Westbrook." Marcus kept his voice low. "But something about her doesn't fit."

"Explain."

Marcus had been wrestling with how to present his concerns without sounding paranoid. "Her clothes are travel-worn, but the fabric quality is too fine for a common refugee. And when the others from Westbrook tell stories about their village, she just... listens. Never adds details, never corrects anything, just nods along."

"And this concerns you because?"

"Because she doesn't act like someone who lost everything. The other refugees, they grieve, they worry, they argue about what they should have brought or left behind. But Celestine..." Marcus paused. "She watches everything with this strange calm, like she's observing rather than experiencing."

Commander Cain nodded slowly. "Interesting observation. I'll have my men keep a discrete eye on her."

"Thank you for listening. I wasn't sure if"

"If I'd take a village youth's concerns seriously?" Commander Cain smiled slightly. "Good instincts should be valued regardless of their source."

"Now then," the commander said quietly. "Shall we discuss the truth?"

"Sir?"

"Marcus of Millhaven, in my twenty-three years of military service, I have encountered exactly three individuals who possessed what I call 'true genius.' Each one carried themselves with a particular... confidence. An ease with complex concepts that marked them as fundamentally different from common folk."

Marcus felt cold despite the fire's warmth. "I don't understand."

"One was Master Thymon Starweaver at the Royal Academy. A man who could explain the movement of celestial bodies and the nature of magical forces with equal facility."

Marcus stared into the fire, understanding the commander's implication. "You think I learned from someone."

"I know you learned from someone." Commander Cain's tone was not unkind, but absolutely certain. "The question is whether you'll admit it, or continue this pretense of natural innovation."

The silence stretched between them. Marcus could hear the distant sounds of the camp. Soldiers checking equipment, horses shifting in their picket lines, the soft murmur of conversations around other fires.

Finally, Marcus spoke. "What if I said I was a fraud?"

"Then I would say you're a remarkably well-educated fraud, and I would wonder who taught you." Commander Cain smiled slightly. "But I would also say that frauds who can produce genuine innovation are often more valuable than authentic scholars who produce nothing of worth."

Marcus looked up, surprised by the commander's pragmatic response.

"You see, Marcus, I care less about the source of your knowledge than its application. These writing materials, this notation system, they work. They solve problems. If you learned them from a hidden teacher, that teacher chose to share valuable knowledge with you."

"So you won't... expose me?"

"Expose you as what? Someone who learned useful skills and chose to apply them for his family's benefit?" Commander Cain shook his head. "That's commendable, not criminal."

Marcus felt a wave of relief, followed immediately by curiosity. "You mentioned three geniuses."

"The second was a court physician who could diagnose ailments from the slightest symptoms. The third..." Commander Cain paused. "The third was a man who claimed to see the future. He predicted three separate bandit attacks with perfect accuracy before disappearing one night."

"What would you advise?"

"Be honest about your limitations. No one expects a farm youth to possess advanced theoretical knowledge. But practical innovation, learned skills applied creatively, that's both believable and valuable."

Commander Cain stood, brushing dust from his armor. "If you're interested in expanding your education, the capital offers opportunities. Master Thymon Starweaver at the Royal Academy, in particular, maintains an open door policy for those who demonstrate genuine intellectual curiosity."

"The academy accepts village youth?"

"The academy accepts anyone who can contribute meaningfully to the pursuit of knowledge." Commander Cain smiled. "And Master Thymon has a particular interest in unconventional approaches to conventional problems."

After the commander departed, Marcus sat alone by the dying fire, processing the evening's revelations. He'd been declared a fraud, but somehow felt more hopeful than before. Commander Cain's pragmatic acceptance of "learned skills" provided a framework for explaining his modern knowledge without revealing its true source.

More importantly, the mention of Master Thymon Starweaver offered a potential path forward. An academy that valued unconventional thinking, led by someone interested in innovative approaches, that sounded like exactly what Marcus needed.

He pulled out his notebook and added a new entry to his list of questions:

*Master Thymon Starweaver - What kind of man? What interests him?*

*Royal Academy - How does one gain admittance? What do they study?*

*"Fraud" identity - How to maintain useful knowledge while seeming authentic?*

As Marcus prepared to return to his family's wagon, he realized the evening had provided more than answers to his astronomical questions. He'd gained a potential mentor's name, a possible educational path, and most importantly, permission to be exactly what he was: someone with unusual knowledge who wanted to use it constructively.

Tomorrow they would begin the journey to Drakmoor. When they arrived, Marcus would seek out Master Thymon Starweaver at the Royal Academy. And perhaps, finally, he would find someone who could help him understand both the world he lived in and the knowledge he'd brought to it.

But first, he had one more task to complete before sleep. Tyler had promised to help with research, and Marcus had Tyler's list of strategic communities bookmarked on his laptop. If Master Thymon proved interested in unconventional approaches to problems, Marcus wanted to be prepared with the most unconventional thinking he could find.

Back in his modern world, there was an entire internet full of people discussing exactly the kind of strategic challenges he might face in Valdris. Time to start taking advantage of that resource.