Book 4: Chapter 65: Epilogue |
Michael stepped through the portal, finding himself standing on a craggy outcropping overlooking a low-flat plain. Soldiers were massed on either side of it and anxiety hung thick in the air between them.
Pyotr walked through the portal behind him, then Marcus, then Ollie.
“Across the continent in an instant. You couldn’t do that sooner?” Marcus asked Ollie.
“Before the barrier was up it was harder. Something about the stability of it makes portals like this easier.”
Pyotr moved to stand next to Michael.
“You sure this is worth it, brother? The second you turn your back they’ll be back at it.”
“The people I save today will be worth it. Another day with their friends, their family. I can’t imagine giving them a greater gift.”
He turned to Ollie.
“Could you project my voice?”
“King Batu and King Tumonc. I have given my warning about this conflict, but I will repeat it again. Even if you try to fight, no one will die today. Neither of you will make any progress and the pain and suffering of your men will be continuous until you withdraw. Please reconsider what you’re doing.”
There was a few seconds pause, then a horn blew as if in defiance. A few moments later a second horn blew. After that the two sides began to swarm toward one another.
“I still think you should just let them die,” said Marcus, watching disinterested.
“Noted,” replied Michael as he raised his hand, feeling his wife’s touch through the warmth of it. At this point his healing was automatic. Anyone within a mile of him would feel their health restored within moments, but to extend it over the battlefield and prevent even immediately fatal wounds from being possible required more focus.
The two armies clashed in the plains. A man was beheaded, but found his head resealed in an instant. Another was trampled beneath a horse's hooves, and was well in time to be run over again. Once was shot through the heart with an arrow, then through the eye, then through each leg. Some of them pushed through the pain, trying to see their temporary immortality as a boon, but once they saw every fatal wound they dealt made useless they lost heart.
After some time a number of horses from either side of the battlefield began to approach.
Marcus raised Reaper and took aim, but Michael held up a hand.
“Let's see if they want to talk first.”
Marcus rolled his eyes, but nodded, slinging it back across his back.
One horse reached them before the others and Michael could immediately tell that it was titled. He guessed it was King Batu.
“Paladin! You shall cease your curse upon us. You deny us the glory of war and conquest. Does not Durand demand blood? Does not Seras demand that we protect our own?”
Michael smiled at him.
“Durand doesn’t need blood and death to bear witness to strength, and Seras sees a fight avoided as a greater protection than conquest sought.”
Batu roared. “You dishonor me! You violate my sovereignty! My crown! I demand satisfaction!”
King Tumonc arrived a moment later to witness Batu’s fit, but decided to hang back and see what happened.
“As you throw this tantrum, your men are fighting and dying over and over again. Are you sure this is a good use of your time?”
“Face me!”
“Want me to take care of it?” asked Pyotr.
“No. I’ve got it handled.”
Michael moved to the edge of the outcropping and leapt down, landing heavily on the ground. He raised Ruin and shifted it to Rend.
King Batu charged, not removing himself from his titled horse.
Michael sighed at that and when the mount was nearly upon him he stepped to the side, grabbed Batu by the leg and tore him from his saddle. That broke his leg, but it was immediately healed. Michael then ran him through the heart, cut off his head, smashed in his chest, crushed his skull, and removed each limb. Each action was quick and deadly and none of them killed him.
When Michael was done the King was staring wide eyed at the sky.
Michael leaned over him. “Are you rethinking things?”
Batu very carefully got up and returned to his titled horse as it approached him. He remounted his horse and quickly headed back toward his lines.
Michael looked over to King Tumonc, who gave him a quick nod and rode away as well. Within fifteen minutes the battle had ended and they all headed back to their respective homes.
“I’d call that a lesson learned,” said Michael with a smile as he returned to where the others were.
“Drink at my place?” Michael asked.
“Always, brother,” answered Pyotr.
“Gotta gas up the car,” said Marcus patting Ollie on the back.
Ollie shook his head and cursed under his breath as he summoned another portal for them.
…
The path they walked on was well worn, but not quite a road. Michael used his staff to navigate it. It wasn’t that he needed it to walk, but there was just something comforting about holding one. It also contributed a fair amount to the image he was projecting. If he straightened his back, swept back his hair and wore tighter fitting clothes that showed off his muscles they wouldn’t think of him as just a wandering healer.
“We could’ve flown most of the way here, you know. Alyssa and I can both carry you easily with magicka. Or you could just use barriers to walk a straight path over the forest,” said Mikhail. He was looking more and more like his father every day. Adolescence had broadened his shoulders and made his eyes a bit more brooding, but he had more of his mother’s eye-shape.
“It’s good to stretch your legs every once in a while. Besides, this way I get to spend more time with both of you.”
“Was that Dad’s real plan? Using this as an excuse to make us spend time with Grandpa?” asked Alyssa. She was a beanpole, and favored her mother a bit more. She had her long braids hidden in a cloak to be more inconspicuous and kept a purple flower tucked under her ear. Michael gave her one from the fields on his land every time he visited.
“Your Dad is wily and clever, but the reason he gave you both for accompanying me is a real one. This is a good way for you to meet your people and get to know them. To learn how people live outside of a palace.”
“And there’s no way we could wear clothing that doesn’t make us itch like crazy while doing it?” asked Alyssa.
Michael sighed and took the itchiness of their clothes onto himself, ignoring it easily.
“Grandpa, you don’t have to do that,” said Mikhail. “We’ll be fine. I don’t want Mom to keep scolding you for spoiling us.”
“I’m fine with being spoiled,” remarked Alyssa.
Michael sighed, smiling. “We’re almost there you two. Try not to talk too much. They’ll act more naturally if they don’t know who you are.”
“You’re from another world,” remarked Alyssa.
“And I’d been around the block a few times there. Just focus and listen.”
The village in the distance was constructed mostly of simple wood buildings. Between them were a number of men and women doing their chores or work for the day and a few old timers watching the children play and keeping them from being underfoot.
Michael approached carefully, but deliberately and one of the older men stood up from where he was sitting and moved to meet him.
“Hail. Who are you?”
Michael held up both hands, extending three fingers from each. “A priest of the gods, and a travelling healer. I am here to tend to whoever may need it.”
The man returned the sign of the gods.
“I appreciate you, traveler. We don’t have much to offer in thanks, but you are welcome and we shall feed and house you and your attendants as best we can.
Michael smiled at him and nodded. He could send out a burst of healing, but that would be too suspicious. He instead took on some pain from everyone who was hurt or sick to provide some relief and attended them one by one. There was a boy with a broken ankle, a woman with a terrible fever, a carpenter with a splinter he’d been unable to remove for months that was driving him mad, and a large number of dental problems.
The last person that needed healing was an old man that had been bedbound. Michael approached him. He was silent and breathing heavily on the bed. He was old, especially for a villager, perhaps eighty. Michael gently took his hand and poured divine healing into him. The man’s eyes cleared and his breathing slowed. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times.
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“Ch.. champion… I prayed for you.”
Michael nodded. “I know. I’m here.”
“Am I healed?”
He nodded again. “Yes, but it won’t last forever. I can’t cure old age. You should have a few good months though, maybe longer if you take it easy.”
The man laughed. “A few months? All I asked for was a day.”
“Enjoy it. Estaid will be waiting at the end of it. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
The man smiled and squeezed his hand.
Michael nodded at him and stood, his grandchildren following closely behind him.
…
“Are you sure?” Michael asked, standing across from Marcus. Pyotr and Ollie were behind Michael, his concern mirrored on their faces.
“Veras gave me the vision. Trish is here somewhere. She must’ve crossed over before things had been sealed completely. I need to find her. There’s nothing here for me like there is for each of you.”
“The chances of it. Are you blessed or cursed?” asked Pyotr.
“Veras didn’t know right away. The gods' attention and power has been gradually rebuilding. Humans here in Hume are completely covered, but in the other continents we’ve spread their influence is just beginning to fully reach them. The fact that she could be that far.” Michael shook his head. “It’s incredible.”
“What if she’s still a kid?” asked Ollie. “Michael’ll have to smite you.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ve got wellwater with me if that’s the case and I can wait if she wants to age naturally.”
“What if she’s ugly?” Ollie asked.
This time Marcus just gave him a look.
Michael laughed. “When I asked if you were sure, I meant are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?”
“I won’t take you from your grandkids, Mike. Or you from your newborn, Ollie.”
“Can you please? I’d definitely sleep better on the ship.”
“What about me, brother?” asked Pyotr. “I’m sure there are a lot of new dances for me to learn across the sea.”
Marcus frowned. “Who's going to watch our baronies?”
Michael sighed. “Me. Obviously.”
Marcus nodded. “I’d be glad to have you with me.”
“If either of you are in trouble, just pray. I’ll hear it,” offered Michael.
“What if I make a woman say the names of the gods while I’m there? Will you come running then?” asked Pyotr.
Michael smirked. “It doesn’t work if they’re faking.”
They all shared an embrace and watched as they boarded the boat and sailed away.
“Shall we drink?” asked Ollie.
Michael nodded. “I think it's what they’d want.”
…
Floating in a sea of stars Michael looked over the world. He could see the barrier that the divine maintained shining, perfect, and gold. He listened carefully for a few moments, hearing a young girl’s prayer.
~Find my toy sword. I looked everywhere, but it hasn’t shown up~
He smiled as he floated back toward the globe, passing harmlessly through the barrier. He could a see thread from her to the sword which had somehow gotten wedged between the wall and her bed. He whispered the location to her gently and waited to see her smile as she found it before floating back up.
~So tired of being sick. Feels like this cold will never end~
Michael didn’t even need to float down for this one, extending a golden spectral hand and healing the man. After that he reunited a man and his lost dog, blessed an unborn child, and granted a deed to a young man for helping his neighbor plant his field and asking nothing in return.
When he was done he simply floated there for a moment. Around him he could feel the gods. They were tangible in that sea of stars, but massive, and growing every day. Still, as he answered prayers and continued his work he felt as if he perceived more of them, as if the intangibility of them was lessening and lessening. He could see a vague impression of Parthax in the distance, flying among the same cosmos he was floating in.
He felt a pull and turned quickly around. The sea of stars around him pulsed and for a flash of a moment he saw a long string connecting him to something in the far distance. He could feel distress and fear. Then, as soon as it had arrived, it was gone.
…
Michael sat at a small desk with papers stacked high in front of him. He grabbed one, making a few marks on it before moving it to the right. He heard a knock on the door and smiled as Dugan entered.
“Your guests are beginning to arrive Michael,” he said as he walked to the desk.
“You know, you are welcome to join us. It’s not just for family and even if it was I’d like to have you there.”
Dugan shook his head. “Someone has to keep Daviad running while you’re there.”
“At least drop by for one drink when you’re able. Can you do that?”
The dwarf nodded. “I’ll likely deserve it given the amount of paper you’ve left for me.”
Michael smiled, patting the dwarf’s shoulder as he passed him and walked out of his office. Outside of it was his church. It was a simple thing of white stone with six altars, one for each god, and places to sit. It was busy and a number of people bowed and greeted him as he exited. He smiled and politely moved through them. Normally he’d take more time, but he was excited to see everyone.
He stepped out of the church and began walking on the cement streets. Daviad had been built on the ruins of the Old Capital. The streets were still in good condition, as were several aqueducts and other infrastructure. As he’d inherited the land, it had become his to manage. It had been difficult, but he’d lucked into a few takers he’d saved in Stent being excellent engineers and civic planners. Between them, the dwarves, and a number of lizardfolk that had wanted to thank him for saving them they were able to quickly create a place worth living in. The fact that anyone who came there found themselves cured of all ills likely helped as well.
Michael walked the streets carefully, taking several side paths to get to his estate. It was large, as it had been built out of the remains of the previous palace, but it was mostly empty. He wasn’t very comfortable with servants, but he had a few to help him maintain things at least and he paid them well. He greeted a couple of them as he entered the garden in the back. He could already smell cooking meat and heard a bit of laughter as he approached.
He sped up and then quickly stopped before he could walk over two sandy-haired blurs that ran by.
“Hi uncle Mike,” managed one of them before continuing forward.
Michael laughed as he kept moving.
“Sorry about that,” said Trina, smiling at him. “The blessing of Bruntus means I need to let them run off as much energy now so they’re not too recovered by bedtime.”
“Technically it’s your fault,” said Tain pointing at him.
“Take it up with the gods,” responded Michael with a smile.
Unlike most of the guests, Trina and Tain lived in Daviad. Trina maintained the healing and ministries in the city whenever he was gone while Tain was in charge of the guard while also acting as a priest of Durand. As such he caught up with them quickly before moving on.
“Count Kreg,” said Michael, holding out a hand for Lance.
“Count Mann,” he replied with a smile hidden behind a thick mustache.
“And countess Delia, you look lovely as always.”
The countess curtsied gracefully despite being in the advanced stages of pregnancy.
“Where’s my nephew?” asked Michael.
“Managing our lands while I’m away,” replied Lance. “He sends his love and wanted me to thank you for the books.”
“I’m glad he liked them. I’m looking forward to spoiling my next nephew too.”
Delia laughed. “Between you and Ollie I’m sure his room will be filled with enough gifts to last him until adulthood.”
“Oh, excuse me, I wanted to have a quick word with Tain.” Lance walked away, holding up Delia with his arm as they moved across the garden.
He turned his attention to a sudden rustling from the bushes out of which emerged Blake and Ollie. Ollie whispered something quickly and leaves and debris quickly removed themselves from each of them.
Michael looked at them with a raised eyebrow.
“I have guest rooms, you know.”
“I know. Junior is napping in ours,” responded Blake. “I need a drink,” she wandered off toward the smell of cooking food where a servant was steadily pouring drink after drink.
“You lucked out with that one,” said Michael.
“I did. And she lucked out with me,” he responded with a smile.
Michael chuckled. “Any sign of Pyotr? I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”
Ollie pointed and Michael turned to see Pyotr dancing with an aelven woman on a large dancefloor that had been placed in the garden. He was smiling and pulling a few more people in as he moved.
“Wish Marcus could be here,” said Ollie with a sigh.
“I’d have to arrest him, or something. If he showed up. So I’m glad he’s holding off. He sent me a nice note anyway and a really nice gift as well as some things for Alyssa and Mikhail.”
“You can’t forgive a little bit of piracy?”
“He’s called a ‘pirate king’. I don’t think that qualifies as only a bit of piracy.”
“I mean, he seems happier at least. His old flame really seems to complete him.”
“Uh-huh,” responded Michael dryly. “Why don’t you get in there with Pyotr?” He grabbed the mage and tossed him. Of course Ollie managed to correct himself gracefully and landed on the dancefloor as if that was exactly what he’d meant to do.
Michael smiled at the sight of him for a few moments before feeling a pull. He looked to see a thread extending into the sky. It faded then, taking a bit longer than the last time, and the time before that.
“Grandpa!”
Michael turned around just in time to wrap Alyssa in a big hug, kissing her on the top of her head. “It’s good to see you,” he said as he pulled a purple flower from his jacket and handed it to her.
She smiled and took it, placing it behind her ear.
“Hey grandpa,” said Mikhail, more reserved.
Michael hugged him, the boy was now his height and would probably be even taller before long.
“Hey buddy,” he responded. “I missed you.”
He smiled.
“Laird’s kids are here and I know the twins will want to say hi.”
They nodded and drifted toward the party.
“Yuna,” said Michael, taking each of her hands and giving them a squeeze as he gave her a peck on the cheek. His daughter-in-law had aged gracefully, with elegant streaks of white only just starting and wrinkles at the corners of her mouth earned from the laughter she shared with his son. “It’s always good to see you. I had a bottle of Lobek wine procured just for you.”
“Thank you father,” she said, giving him a kiss back on the cheek before drifting toward the party.
Gabriel embraced him next and they gave one another crushing hugs. He’d grown a beard much like his uncle Pyotr, but he kept it shaved a bit more closely. While he had no gray or white hairs on his head, Michael saw more than a few hiding in the beard.
“Looking good son,” Michael said, looking him up and down.
“Well, I can only hope I age as well as you. You’re looking sharp for your eighties.”
“Years of healthy living and avoiding risk.”
Gabriel chuckled and looked over at everyone else. “I can’t believe you’re bringing backyard barbecues here.”
“I would’ve insisted on manning the grill myself, but I couldn’t get a ‘kiss the cook’ apron from the tailor in time.”
Gabriel chuckled.
Michael felt the pull again, watching as the thread appeared and disappeared.
“You okay?” asked Gabriel.
Michael frowned.
“I am. I just… I may need to leave for a little bit.”
“The party?”
“No. I’ll be here for the party. After that I’ll need to go and take care of something.”
Gabriel frowned. “You’ll be back though?”
Michael nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay. In that case we should probably eat right?”
Michael smiled. “Absolutely.”
They walked toward the smell of cooking meat.
…
Michael stood on the balcony, looking up at the stars. He took a deep breath as he felt a strong pull and saw the thread appear again. He closed his eyes, and ascended into that sea of stars above the world. He hesitated, looking back at it for just a moment, before he turned back toward the pull. It pulsed and he followed it, turning all of his strength toward moving with it. The sea of stars blurred around him as he moved, becoming white lines across his vision as he traveled through it. He came to a stop in front of a pale blue dot on the horizon. He hadn’t been able to see it before, but now he could see the thread extending from it to him.
He felt another pulse and he went with it, letting it pull him down toward that blue orb. He found himself standing in a large white room. He could hear a rhythmic beeping from a corner. Within the room he saw five people. Two young children were sleeping on a nearby couch. Michael didn’t recognize them, but he knew who they were and he took a moment to rest a golden hand on each of their heads. Next to the bed were Laura and Victor. They were asleep too, their eyelids red and raw. He stopped to kiss each of them on the forehead, tears falling from his own eyes at seeing them again.
One the bed in the center of the room was a woman. She was hooked up to the monitors in the room and had an oxygen mask across her face. He knew her though. He could never forget her.
Her eyes opened. They were glassy and confused, but somehow they locked onto him immediately. She began to raise a shaky hand toward him and he stepped forward and grasped it. He could feel the warmth of her hand. It was so familiar, as if they’d never let go of one another since the day he’d died.
He stayed there with her. He wasn’t sure for how long. He could feel the warmth of her hand though, and as he sat with her the warmth grew even as her body began to go cold. When her hand began to feel as if he was holding the sun, she floated away from her body and they both ascended up into the sea of stars.
Michael looked at her, tears somehow forming in golden eyes of light.
“I missed you so much.”
She pulled him close and they held an embrace.
“I missed you too.”
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