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.

"Do you have some people out now? Closing rifts?" asked Ollie.

Kris nodded. "Yes. Knights Laird and Hu, as well as a dozen of our militia and those from Creekbend."

"Another nearby village?" asked Michael.

"Yes. This rift is almost directly between us so we agreed to support each other to close it."

Michael nodded. If he was lucky, Knights Laird and Hu would have information on how best to reach the King, or at least someone close to him. Luckily it seemed like he was already being proactive about the situation, but he likely didn't have the whole story like Michael now did and he definitely wasn't aware of the full scope of how bad things were going to get.

"Okay, do you have any idea when the knights will return?" asked Michael.

"Within a day I think. Unless…"

Michael shook his head. "I sensed a rift closing earlier today. That implies to me that they were successful. I can't promise that they're unhurt though."

She nodded. "Of course. If you're a healer that means you're a diviner too. Thank you for telling me that. I was worried I'd have to be in charge for even longer." She sighed and turned to one of the guards she'd had follow them. "Octa, Leon, please take these two to Lentus and have him patch up their armor and weapons. Then get them something to eat. I've got to deal with," she gestured vaguely at all of the once injured men and women all starting to wake up wondering what was going on, "this."

Octa and Leon nodded and gestured for Michael and Ollie to follow them. Octa was a tall thin woman with short hair and Leon was a short man with short curly black hair. Both of them had spears, bows, and arrows and Michael had the impression that they'd both seen some fighting relatively recently. They hadn't said anything to Ollie or Michael yet, but he'd noticed a distinct shift in how they were looking at them since Michael healed everyone. They were taken a short way to a smithy where the sounds of hammers hitting metal could be heard. Inside was a young man and woman, each wearing thick aprons and gloves as they took turns hammering a piece of metal into shape.

Knowing that they wouldn't be able to get the smith's attention by yelling over the noise, Octa carefully positioned herself to gesture to the male smith, who Michael presumed was Lentus. He held up a hand for the woman who was working with him to stop and then they carefully placed their hammers down onto the ground.

"What?" he asked. His tone wasn't rude, but he very clearly wanted to get back to work. The woman with him on the other hand seemed eager to grab a ladle full of water and pour it over her face before collapsing into a chair. Both of them were young, maybe early to mid twenties. The man had blond hair streaked with black as well as thick sinewy arms. The woman had her dark hair tied back, and was stocky, but not as muscled as Lentus.

"Got two new recruits. This one," Leon pointed at Michael. "Definitely needs some patching on his armor."

"A new recruit with armor?" Lentus asked as he approached, stopping just before Michael. "Do you mind?" he asked.

Michael shook his head.

Lentus began running his fingers along the armor, finding the marks, rents and damage everywhere and nodding. "You aren't from around here, that's for sure."

"Not remotely."

The man looked at it for a few more moments. "I can fix this. Leave it all here and we'll have it done by tomorrow."

"No way," said the woman in the corner. "We cannot work through the night again, Lentus."

He shrugged. "We work when work needs doing."

She called him a goatfucker under her breath and stormed out of the building.

Lentus shrugged. "She complains, but she'll be back to help. Always has so far."

"We'll see if that holds true when there are more places to flee too and all the rifts are closed," said Octa.

"She knew who I was when she married me," he replied with a shrug, moving back to reach for his hammer. "Leave the armor over in a pile, I'll have it for you in the morning, as I said."

Michael nodded and stripped off his armor, placing it down carefully where the smith had indicated. Once he was done Leon and Octa led him back onto the street. He felt light, and a bit cool without the weight of his armor out from the heat of the forge. They were led to a small hut where an older woman was mixing up something in a large cauldron. Michael and Ollie both took a bowl and sat, but weren't able to eat more than a few bites before they heard a shout from the far side of the village.

"Knights returning!" came the cry, and immediately all of the men and women around them surged for that gate. Michael shoved one more spoonful into his mouth before he and Ollie joined the rest. He hoped they had arrived uninjured, but he needed to be ready either way.