Book 3 Ch 15: The Helpers

The armed villagers looked at one another, confused by Ollie and Michael’s conversation.

“We’ll serve, that’s why we came here,” said Michael.

They lowered their weapons and exchanged glances. “You chose to come here to help?” asked the woman in the lead.

“Well, the gods guided me here, but I probably would’ve come anyway. This is where I can do the most good.”

“The…gods?”

“Yep. Seras, Nykas, Bruntus, Veras, Durand, and Estaid. They were the gods before they merged into the divine,” Michael walked toward the gate. “Anyway, if you have wounded I need to ask that you take me to them right away so that I can heal them. I can also cleanse diseases or poisons.”

“Hold it,” said the woman moving in front of him. “I’ll lead you to the wounded. Your friend will join us, and you won’t be allowed to wander the village freely.”

“That’s fine, please lead the way,” replied Michael. “The sooner you get me to them, the sooner I can help them.”

She nodded, a bit hesitantly. “Good. Follow me.”

She led him to a shack, inside which there were a number of wounded and sick. They had all been given hay pallets covered in wool sheets, and rudimentary first aid had been applied to each of them.

The woman pointed to one of them, a young man with dark brown hair who was pale and barely breathing.

“He’s the worst off. I’m not sure if you’d be able to heal him, but he needs it the most.”

Michael nodded and began to focus, feeling the warmth in his hand grow, the feel of it the same as the touch of his wife’s hand when he’d passed. He placed it gently on the boy’s head and healed him. He’d been run through by either a horn or a spear, had a bad infection, and was near death. The fact that he was still alive at all was a miracle. Once he was healed, Michael moved to the next bed.

“Did you give up?” asked the woman, worry in her voice.

Michael shook his head as he sealed another unconscious man’s wounds. “Nope. Healed him. He’ll probably wake up soon.” He finished with the man he was helping and moved onto the next, then the next, until he had healed nearly twenty people, most of them young men and women with combat wounds.

They were up and moving within a few minutes, and the woman was staring at Michael wide-eyed.

“I had no idea healers were so capable. Our diviner can take pain, but he can’t actually heal anyone.”

Ollie scoffed. “Michael’s the only healer that can do this. Best of the best.”

Michael was considering disagreeing, but considering all he’d seen, it was likely that Ollie was telling the truth. “The gods have given me many gifts. You haven’t told me your name yet though?” he said with a smile to her.

“I’m Kris. You’re Michael?”

“Yes, and my friend here is Ollie.”

She held out a hand and when Michael went in for a shake she clasped his forearm tightly for a moment and let go. He returned the gesture a bit clumsily, and then she did the same thing to Ollie.

“So, what’s the situation?” asked Michael. “Rifts all over the place and not enough people to close them? Villages all fortifying to try and survive?”

She nodded. “Yes, though we started fortifying even before we were told to. As the closest village to the Lake of Beasts it makes sense to keep a closer eye on things. The moment King Marlo took the throne he immediately sent all of his armies, even his personal guard, out to villages to train up a militia and begin closing rifts with whatever diviners are available. I think at this point all villages and towns are doing everything they can to keep too many from opening up.” She shook her head. “If only King Marlo had taken the throne sooner. We probably would’ve had some times with no rifts at all.”

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Michael nodded along as he listened. This King Marlo sounded like exactly the kind of person that needed to be in charge. He hadn’t expected that.