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Penitent-Chapter 15: Divine
“Touched by divinity,” said Kline standing from where he’d been kneeling by Ollie. “And a healer at that.”
Ollie stood back up too, blinking and wiping some blood away on his sleeve. “Thanks mate, didn’t know you could do that.” He looked at Michael staring at his hand and flexing it. “Guessing you didn’t either?”
Michael shook a bit as the heat in his hand faded. He didn’t want to lose it.
“What?”
Teft stood and looked at him. “I’ve heard that gaining blessings like this can be very disorienting.”
Kline nodded. “Don’t think he needs the infirmary, but we were near the end today anyway.” He looked out at the rest of the training yard, where everyone was pretending to keep up their drills as they tried to catch glimpses of whatever was going on. “We’re breaking early for dinner. Head to the mess, then to bed.”
He looked back at Michael who was starting to finally accept the coldness of his hand.
“Go. Eat.”
Michael nodded, his head foggy. “Oh…okay.”
He shuffled around behind everyone else, Ollie helping to make sure he didn’t run into anything and helping him to get his tray together before they sat down at their usual spot in the corner. After a few bites of a piece of bread filled with warm cheese and a vegetable that resembled broccoli, he was feeling aware and finally able to focus on what was going on around him.
“-punch hurt like hell, but the pain and everything was gone the second he touched it,” said Ollie through mouthfuls of food. “Kline said something about him being ‘touched by the divine’.”
“Strange that the god of this place would bless someone from another world. Though the will of god, or gods, or whatever is not for us to know, “ said Pyotr gesturing with his spoon. “Not too different from our own.”
“We didn’t have any,” said Marcus. “Frankly, I don’t know that they have any here either. ‘The divine’ could just be some innate thing people have here. Like magic.”
“Well, they said they used to have individual gods before their names were lost. That they were very present before. Is our ability to see our Titles and Deeds not enough proof of their existence? Not to mention what Michael just did.”
“How do you lose their names? Does that make sense to you? These people have writing. How do you lose something like that? Unless it’s all made up in the first place.”
Ollie shrugged. “A wizard did it.”
Pyotr chuckled. “He’s joking, but that’s a good point. There’s magic here, things that are different from the rules of our home. Why doubt it?”
“It’s too easy,” said Marcus.
Davi, who’d been busy stuffing his face, nodded. “He’s right about that. The explanation is too simple.”
“Truthfully, none of this matters anyway,” said Marcus.
“You’re the one that started the argument,” said Pyotr with the condescension of a professor correcting a student.
Marcus ignored him. “The important question is whether or not his healing can remove scars.”
Davi raised an eyebrow and nodded, understanding his meaning immediately.
Michael did too. “If that’s what you want, then I would do it for you, as a friend, if I can. I don’t think that would be a good idea though.”
Marcus nodded, spearing a piece of meat. “It wouldn’t be. At least not yet.”
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“Are you okay?” asked Pyotr.
Michael nodded. “I’m feeling okay now. What I did had an… odd impact.” He flexed his hand a bit. “But yeah, I’ll be okay.”
“That’s good,” said Davi, wearing a rare smile. “I would not mind having a friend who can heal my bruises.”
…
Michael felt much better the next morning, and felt fairly fresh during his morning visit to the alchemist and breakfast, but he was taken out of his quartermaster duties by Kline.
“I’ve been told by Teft that you have nothing else to learn in this class. From now on you’ll be spending your time with the diviner on base to cultivate the abilities we discovered yesterday, after which you’ll report to Dugan.”
Michael nodded, he’d expected something like that, it was basically the same thing that happened to Ollie when it was discovered he had mage potential, or when it was discovered that Marcus had none.
“Is it uncommon to have a taker with the ability to heal?”
“Diviner healers with that ability are rare in general. There have been others with a touch of the divine, but no healers in my lifetime. Most healers are kept from the front due to their value, but because of your status as an irregular we may be lucky enough to have one on our front lines”
Michael thought about that. He wouldn’t mind not seeing the front or being sent on any of the dangerous missions it seemed that irregulars were typically assigned to.
“It won’t keep you from any of the normal assignments, takers aren’t given any exceptions, but if your ability as a healer is significant enough, it’ll give the family of your body a greater price and your decade of service is more likely to be cut.”
Kline seemed to be able to read minds.
“Our terms can be cut?”
He nodded.
“There are special cases in which they can be shortened. Severe injury, commutation by a general or royalty such as the king. I know of two mages that served only seven and eight years, and one warrior that was actually elevated to the nobility when he lost a leg saving a general.”
“If our terms can be cut, can they also be extended?”
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Kline smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, but most of the reasons a regular recruit's term would be extended, are reasons that would lead to irregulars being hung.” He pushed open the door to the small chapel, and walked inside.
The woman who had branded them was lounging across a pew, reading in a spot of sunlight. When she saw them she pushed herself up to her feet inelegantly, and rested the book open on the edge of the pew to save her page.
“Meera,” said Kline nodding in greeting. “This is the one I told you about.”
She stretched, choking down a yawn and looked at Michael.
“The first one I branded, I remember you,” she held out a hand.
Michael took it and gave it a firm shake, his years of meeting people once and never again in his old life as an office worker taking over.
She returned the shake and frowned. “I was hoping for a kiss.”
“I didn’t realize that was a typical greeting here.”
Kline sighed. “It’s not. A handshake is fine.”
“Not for a proper gentleman or lady,” she replied.
“He is no gentleman and you are no lady.”
“I’m a distant relative of the king, you know that.”
“Yes, and my great uncle thrice removed, and twice returned was the king of all the Humelands himself.”
Michael chuckled.
Kline turned a bit toward him, as if remembering he was there, and he coughed to clear his throat. “You will teach him more of how to be a Diviner with a focus on his newly realized healing blessing.”
“Yes yes, I know. We talked about it last night, and a little bit this morning,” she smiled slyly.
Kline masterfully kept any expression from his face. It was odd seeing him act so normal. He wasn’t too strict, though Michael's knuckles were still a bit sore from a swat on them a few days ago, and Michael had the impression that he approached things more informally than the other instructors on the base with two stripes, but he was demanding and showed no favoritism nor did he joke or speak with any of the Takers beyond his role as an instructor. He supposed he was the same at home versus at work, and he didn’t even work with people that were culturally considered child-murderers, well, unless he wanted to count those few times he worked with the audit team.
“I leave him to you, recruit Dent will help you if he makes trouble, though this one never has.”
She looked at the young recruit standing at the edge of the room who’d followed Kline and Michael inside.
“I’m fairly certain I can pummel a child if I need to. It’s why I would’ve made such a great mother. You can take recruit Dent with you.”
Kline shook his head. “Not with the incidents we’ve had recently. He stays.”
She shrugged. “Alright then, fine. The poor boy can stay here and be bored looking at an old lady and a man in the body of a child talk about the divine. I’m sure that’s exactly the kind of action he was looking for when he signed up.”
Old lady seemed like a bit of an exaggeration to Michael, she had to be in her early forties at the latest, but he supposed there were some differing norms between worlds.
“Glad you agree,” said Kline, turning around. “I’ll have someone retrieve him later, I expect a report on where he stands.” He walked out of the room, leaving Michael alone with Meera, guard aside.
She looked him up and down. “So, you healed a broken nose yesterday?”
He nodded.
“Think you could do it again?”
“I’m not certain.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She started walking toward the doors. “Come on, let’s get moving. The infirmary is a bit of a walk.”