Michael focused on the broken foot, sending waves of divine golden energy through himself and into it, feeling the bones rearrange and the tears in the muscle seal back to where they were supposed to be. When he was done, he smiled at the young man who was taking a moment to flex his toes with a smile on his face before tossing his makeshift crutches to the side.

“Thank you!” he said, looking up at Michael. “Now I won’t be slowing dad down when we have to unload the cart.” The boy took a copper and placed it into the small bowl in front of him, before the next person approached. This time it was an older woman with a cane.

“What’s the problem?” asked Michael.

“My hands. They ache so much I can’t sew anymore.”

Michael nodded, he was familiar with arthritis. His wife had needed surgery for that and carpal tunnel at different points. It would be nice to be able to help someone with it.

“I should be able to reduce the damage and the pain, though it may come back over time,” said Michael as he carefully took the woman’s hands in his own, feeling the warmth grow in his hand. The afflictions of the elderly all tended to return, from what he’d seen. Though he hadn’t had a single one complain at having at least temporary relief.

He finished with her hands.

She flexed her fingers. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to bend them like this,” she said as she looked at them.

“I’m glad I could help.”

“I…I don’t have much coin,” she said, eyeing the bowl.

Michael shook his head. “You don’t owe me a thing. The bowl is only there for those who feel they can spare something. Just do me a small favor.”

“Oh?” she asked suspiciously with an eyebrow raised.

“Next time you sew something, dedicate it to the divine. To Seras the protector or Nykas the trickster.”

“Who?”

“They’re gods.

She shrugged, a bit of bewilderment in her expression. “I suppose I can do that.”

“Thank you,” said Michael and she walked away.

Michael looked around and found that the line had cleared for the first time since he’d set up that morning. He stretched and picked up his bowl, doing a quick count of how much he’d made so far.

“How are you doing today?” asked Davi, approaching him from around the corner.

“About nine copper so far. People are generous today.”

Davi nodded. “You’re doing a good thing by offering up your healing this way. I know it pisses off Marcus, but I respect it.”

“I have a responsibility. I have to make up for the life I took, and this is the best way to do it while Marcus tries to find a good mercenary company for us to join.” There had been a number of offers by this point, but almost all of them were headed to Tusinia or northeast to Vyndar that had laws against takers as strict as Svict. “Besides, if I can help some hurt people, I should.” Of course, he had other goals related to finding the gods and their names, but he’d been working on that in his free time as well.

At first Michael had considered maybe looking for something outside of mercenary work, but decided it was the best path for him to take. Not only did he want to do more to help close the rifts, but he also needed to be stronger. The more powerful he got the more people he'd be able to help and so far combat was the only real path to power that he'd seen.

Michael stretched. “How’re you doing? Taking a day off from warehouse work?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

He held out a hand and Michael noticed his pinky was bending the wrong way. “Not exactly. Just needed to get this taken care of before I could get back to work.”

Michael didn’t even bother raising his hand, just sending out healing energy toward his friend and watching the pinky snap back into place with a loud crack.

Davi smiled. “Thank you. Trying to lift the anvil one handed was not my best idea.”

“Well, just hold out your pinky next time. That way it won’t get hurt and you’ll look like a gentlemen.”

He chuckled. “If my deeds were active I could probably spare the finger.”

“How’re things with Francesca? You seem happy.”

He smiled. “She reminds me of the girls from back home. Loud, opinionated, and she fills out whatever she wears very well.” He sighed. “I’m not sure it will last though.”

“Oh?”

“She wants to go to the mountains in the East. She’s already been talking to some dwarves to learn more about it. She hasn’t talked to me about it, but the way her eyes light up when she talks about stones…” he shook his head. “She’ll leave eventually.”

“You could go with her,” said Michael. “I would miss you, but I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“I’d rather fight. I fought back on Earth, and I’ll fight here. There is nothing for me in some dwarven caves.” He paused and smiled. “Besides, I don’t know that I could fit in.”

“Literally?”

Davi winked and they shared a laugh before he went back to the warehouse.

Michael healed a half-dozen more people, and managed to get another couple of copper together before noon. He took his bowl and slid it into his pack before he made his way down to the bookstore. He’d been inside several times so far, looking for any older books with information or history that may help lead him to the gods, but so far hadn’t had any luck. The store specialized primarily in popular books from other countries, performing ink transfers to copy the tomes of merchants who passed through. That meant a number of maps, travel guides, bodice rippers, and a few stories about titled knights from one country absolutely destroying titled knights from another country. The storekeeper herself was typically too busy to help him, and on those occasions where she had tried to find something with him, they hadn’t had any luck. Still, he wanted to give it another shot.

He walked in, hearing the faint tinkling of a small bell at the top of the door.

Jona nodded at him as he entered before continuing a conversation about who was better for Fantasia the Golden haired. Was it Brigdal the rough hedge knight? Or Lord Xander, the bright and handsome?

He made his way past the first few rows toward the back where he’d ended his search the last time. Not all the books had obvious titles on the spines, and often the only way to find a title was to actually open one of the books. This time, he heard a whisper from the divine as he moved.

~above~pilgrim~

He stopped and looked at the top of the shelf, standing on his tiptoes to reach a small book at the very top. He opened it and was rewarded with an image of a woman very much enjoying herself with a number of dwarves. He sighed and closed it.

~ha~ha~

That was definitely Nykas. It certainly made Michael feel special that the god of tricksters was able to take the time to fuck with him specifically.

~again~

This time the voice was different. Less mirth, and more feminine, Seras he assumed. He reached again and pulled out another book. This one was just loose sheets of paper held together by twine. A lot of it was in a language he hadn’t seen, and just as much was smudged or illegible, but he came across a short poem, or perhaps a prayer, that he could read.

Six sides and six seats

Complementing and conflicting

Balanced across from one another

Protection, Diligence, and Judgement

Sit across their opposite number

Strength, Laughter, and Love

Watching over all the world

From their golden thrones above

Six. There were six gods whose names had been lost. Who had become one as the divine. He fingered at the necklace that hung around his neck, looking at the six sides of it. Of course, that was why that shape had significance. He needed to find the names of the other four that he had yet to meet. There had to be hints of them the same way he’d found the hints of Seras and Nykas. He guessed that their worship was at least somewhat regional. That meant that the more he travelled the more likely he would be to come across more shrines and statues that could lead him to the other gods. He felt obligated to keep seeking them out. He owed the gods tremendously for the good they’d allowed him to do in the world, and beyond that he was starting to believe that this world may need them. There was some connection to the rifts and the gods to his and the other takers arrival. The titles and deeds were only a part of it.

He went over to the counter and went to buy the book in case he could decipher more from it or find some kind of translation for the rest of it. The bookkeeper let him keep it for free though, her hand lingering just a little too long on his own as she handed it back to him. He had to say he didn’t mind being handsome in this new life, though of course it was followed immediately by a tinge of guilt for enjoying something that shouldn’t have been his.

He made his way back to the inn where Marcus and the others were talking in the common room.

“Michael, where have you been?” asked Marcus.

“Doing some research, trying to learn more about the gods.”

“Then you’re definitely in the mood to visit a brothel.”