Penitent

Chapter 242 Book 4 Ch 23: The Generosity of Hume

Michael and the others approached the desk. It was clear just from looking at the pile of items what each one was. King Marlo grabbed the first item and began unwrapping it.

"As we were looking into what items in our vault might be suitable to encourage Swandia and Burndan to agree to the mediation, we discovered several that were never properly categorized. I'm unsure if some of my ancestors merely wished to keep them hidden for their own use, or if it was a genuine mistake caused by the passage of time." He shrugged as he finished drawing the canvas from a long rifle and a holstered pair of pistols. "Whatever the case I'm emptying the entire vault for use immediately anyway; no sense hoarding artifacts if we're all dead."

He held the rifle and pistols out to a wide-eyed Marcus.

Michael divined them as his friend began to test their weight.

Reaper's RIfle

Grants:

Middling Reaction

Middling Speed

When Reloading these change to Major

Bullets fired from this rifle always fly true

Michael described what he read as Marcus looked down the barrel of the rifle.

He laughed a bit. "Always flies true? That'll actually take a lot of adjusting to then. I've gotten used to compensating. Still, the help with reloading speed boost is pretty fucking great." He carefully placed the rifle down and held up the pistols. They looked like the kind of old flintlocks one would see in a pirate movie.

Michael divined them as well.

The Perfect Pair

Grants:

Major Speed

These pistols cannot be separated. One always calls to the other. When one is reloaded, they are both reloaded.

"Not the first time I've held a perfect pair," said Marcus as he tested their weight.

Michael frowned as he read what he had divined. "I'm not exactly sure what that last part means."

Marcus raised an eyebrow and placed one of the pistols back on the desk, holding the other as he walked across to the far end of the study. Once he was there he held up a hand and the other pistol whipped from the desk toward him, landing firmly in his hand.

"Oh… I like that."

"I have not seen pistols since we came here," remarked Pyotr.

"They're close range," answered Marcus. "Rifles are favored because you can fire them far away from where magic might affect their functioning." He twirled one of his new pistols.

"Since they're titled I'd imagine they won't be affected by magic," suggested King Marlo. "I figured with you travelling alongside Ollie you would need something along these lines to be able to act at your full potential."

Marcus nodded. "I should've found a King to work with from the start."

Marlo smirked at that and unwrapped another canvas. This one was holding something soft and formless, and when he pulled it out it was a beautiful piece of red cloth with an intricate pattern of gold sewn all throughout it. He held it out to Pyotr, who took it carefully, running the fabric of it between his fingers.

"This was the scarf of one of the finest dancers in all of Hume before the fall. She served emperors, princes, and dukes." He paused. "There was an old rumor that she was a Taker, and her dances were from Earth."

Michael divined the scarf as Pyotr looked carefully at it.

Zoya's Grace

Grants:

Major Reaction

Her grace can move with the will of its wearer.

Pyotr carefully wrapped the scarf around his neck, leaving an arm's length of it loose. The scarf wrapped around the hilt of his blade and drew it from its sheath, holding it for a few moments before returning it from where it came.

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"She and I will do beautiful things together," he said with a smile as he patted the scarf gently.

There was one more item wrapped in canvas, long and lean. King Marlo grabbed it and unwrapped it, showing a beautiful staff carved from white wood with rings of gold wrapped around it, and a hoop at the top that held a number of rings of different materials including gold, steel, silver, wood, and clay. He held it out to Ollie.

Ollie reached for it, but hesitated, looking at his own black Stent staff that he'd carried all the way from the academy.

Michael began to divine the new staff, when Ollie held up a hand.

"That's alright, mate. I think I'll stick with what I know."

King Marlo raised an eyebrow. "This item was in our records and is considered tremendously powerful. Are you certain?"

"Yeah. My staff's fine. Give that one to some other mage. Clara maybe. She'd do good with it."

Marlo shrugged. "As you wish." He looked at Michael. "I am sorry to say that most of the items we have that would suit you are already in the possession of our knights and their commanders."

Michael smiled. "I managed to get a new shield anyway. I'm as prepared as I can be, and the real reward was bringing the takers here anyway."

Marlo nodded.

"Aside from the more material rewards, Pyotr, Marcus." He moved behind his desk where he pulled out the same scepter he'd used for Ollie, Lance, and Michael's titling ceremony. "Would you please kneel?"

Marcus raised an eyebrow, but Pyotr made his way in front of the King and kneeled without any fuss.

Marlo raised his scepter and placed it on Pyotr's shoulder. "For your bravery and service, I name thee a knight of Hume, and Baron of Vallant." He raised the scepter, tapping Pyotr's alternate shoulder. "You may rise as a knight and lord."

Pyotr smiled.

"A bit disappointing. No roaring crowd for us?"

"Well, you don't draw as much of a crowd as Michael and I do," commented Ollie.

Marcus, now that he was certain of what was happening, kneeled next.

Marlo repeated the same gestures with the scepter, but this time said, "For your bravery and service I name thee a Knight-Dragoon of Hume and Baron of Eskart. You may rise as a knight and lord."

Marcus slowly rose to his feet. "And where is Eskart?"

"Near the Old Capital. Unlivable land too close to rifts. Pyotr's land is nearby as well, and technically Michael here would be your liege lord."

"You can hold off on the prostrations for now though," remarked Michael with a smile.

"Thank you so much," replied Marcus.

"Of course. I try to be a kind and reasonable ruler."

Marlo had a light smile on his face, enjoying his front row ticket to their breaking of one another's balls.

"That is all I had for the four of you. I know that Lance is moving as quickly as he can to the palace. I have rooms for each of you set aside, and if you need a method to keep busy I'm sure the incoming takers, diviners, and volunteer fighters will need some help coordinating things. In fact, aside from Dugan, whom you mentioned earlier, should I pay special attention to anyone else?"

"There's a Stent knight named Tain, and a diviner named Meera that I think would be particularly helpful," offered Michael.

"Let's not forget Ogun. There was also Shun, another taker mage I was with. He'll be good, but I don't know that he plays well with others," said Ollie.

"We met a handful of knights that called themselves the 'Servants of Love'. Odd mix of frilly nobles. They want front line duty so I say we give it to them," added Marcus.

"Good. I'll have them all taken aside." He sat, a bit of that old sickly tiredness setting in. "Go ask Bren to have you led to your rooms. Whatever food or drink you desire will be given to you. My palace, as long as you are here, is yours."

"Thank you," replied Michael with a formal salute that Pyotr mirrored and Ollie and Marcus returned a bit more jauntily.

As the others made their way out, Michael gestured for them to go ahead and turned back toward King Marlo, approaching the desk.

"Is there something else?" the King asked wearily.

"There was a healer, and doctor who served the Hume knights. Her name was Carmen. I was wondering if you had records of where she is? I had a question for her."

The King nodded. "I am very familiar with her. She was my personal physician for some time." He rubbed his chin. "There's a large camp in the south from which we're staging rift closings. I believe she is there." He leaned forward. "I am no messenger, but I can have something passed to her on your behalf."

Michael nodded. "I'd appreciate that."

"Surely you aren't having a medical issue?" asked Marlo. His tone was jovial, but there was the smallest hint of genuine concern.

"Maybe. I need her help to be sure."

"Well, I'll make sure she receives whatever you wish to send her."

Michael nodded in thanks, and gave a final salute before he left the room. The signs of his aging were subtle. Back on earth his gray hairs had been easy to see amongst his dark brown hair, but the white strands didn't stand out nearly so much from blonde, and the small wrinkles on his face weren't uncommon for young men that laugh and smile frequently. He theorized that they would be worse without his constant self-healing, but he had no way to tell. Everything was just too abnormal to be certain of.

He was escorted to his room, which was all along the same long hallway as all the others' rooms. Michael laid down his armor and shield. They no longer needed any repairs or maintenance since they had become titled, aside from a bit of cleaning. He then asked for hot water and carefully cleansed himself until he was truly clean for the first time in weeks. He got dressed and stared listlessly out of the window. He felt dread. The dread of the massive rift building in the south. The dread that all their preparations wouldn't be enough to stop it. The dread that something would go wrong when he went to meet his son.

He clenched his jaw and began to pray. Short, simple prayers for everyone he'd met in this new world. For his friends. For himself. For Gabriel. That helped a little. Calmed him and brought a bit more rightness to the world. He still felt as though he might leap out of his own skin though.

There was a knock on the door. He hadn't yet asked the servants for any food, so maybe they were there to ask him. He opened the door to see Ollie, Marcus, and Pyotr all standing there.

"Let's have a drink, mate!" said Ollie, pushing himself inside.

"I found this lute or guitar or whatever in my room. Thought I might try playing something," said Pyotr, following closely behind Ollie.

"And I brought booze," said Marcus, holding four wine bottles. "I don't know if it compares to my hooch, but it's worth a try."

Michael smiled. "I didn't have anything prepared, but maybe we should have them bring us some food so I'm not healing three hangovers in the morning."