66

Michael looked into the small shard of mirror with the edges wrapped in leather, studying his reflection. He took his knife and dragged it slowly and gently across his cheek, scraping the sides of the blade against the bowl of warm water in front of him, then dipping the knife in the water before bringing it back to his face. He’d never really been a “beard” guy, even back on Earth. He had a lot of difficulty dealing with the scratchy and itchy phase before the beard started to get full, and besides that, his wife had threatened to stop shaving herself if he did. In his new body he still preferred to be clean-shaven, though he hadn’t been able to trim his whiskers away with the frequency he would’ve preferred. It had also taken a fair amount of effort to learn how to use a knife, and if it wasn’t for his ability to heal himself, he’d have had a face covered in scars before he’d figured it out.

When he was done, he cleaned and dried the knife one more time before splashing some cool water on his face and wiping it dry. The bathroom situation in the tower wasn’t as good as it had been in the academy. There was running water, but only from a single pump in each tower, so in the interest of time and not getting stabbed, soldiers usually just filled a bucket at the pump and then took care of their grooming and cleaning in another corner of the cold stone room. Michael dumped his bucket down one of the holes that also served as a toilet and made his way back to the room.

There was some trouble when they’d first gotten back, with the other Penitents having clearly swapped bedding out and rifled through some things, but after a few quick beatings from Michael and Davi, they saw the error of their ways. They were no longer intimidated by the criminals that made up the majority of the Penitents, their experiences in the field having shown them that they had little to fear from them. Crick got a pass, of course, and had even helped them to hunt down a few of their effects that the other Penitents had stolen.

Once he got back and into his uniform, Michael looked into the mirror again. He’d only just acquired it. Mirrors weren’t a thing one could requisition from the quartermaster, but Marcus had somehow managed to find one for him, for the ridiculous price of five copper. It had been some time since he’d been able to divine himself, and he knew things had definitely shifted more for him since the last time. He looked into it closely, watching the gold lettering that floated around him come into focus. It was much easier than using his polished armor.

Titles:

Michael Mann

The Restored

Soldier of Stent

The Wound Man

G s e r

Deeds:

Bridge Holder

Revenge Denier

Run Conqueror

Resilient Competitor

Fort Healer

Righteous Defender

Blessings:

Healing

Pain Transfer

He blinked, focusing on the broken-up text under Titles, but it was gone just a moment later. He tried to call it back, focusing his will on it, but it stayed gone. He knew it hadn’t been a trick of the light. He’d seen something there. Meera had told him that advanced enough diviners could actually see hints of Titles and Deeds they were close to earning. Had he seen a shadow of something? He shook his head. No reason to force it, if it was something incoming it would make itself clear soon enough. He switched his focus instead to the new Title and Deed he’d gained.

The Wound Man

Grants:

Middling Durability

When Wounded, this increases to Major

Now that was a boon if he’d ever seen one. Again, it wasn’t as flashy as a lot of what his friends had seemed to gain, but it was a tremendously useful boost for him. Being able to recover and heal was great, but a powerful enough blow could still kill him in an instant. Increased durability was definitely helpful. A full Title was a surprise, though. It definitely wasn’t one that had been granted to him by another person. Had the Divine granted it? If so, it seemed that the Divine had a bit of a sense of humor, which was a thought that made him smile. He also wondered what counted as a wound. If he gave himself a little scrape before any fight, would it boost his durability? He’d have to feel out what the middling durability felt like to be able to tell, but after that he could experiment to find out.

He looked at his new Deed.

Righteous Defender

When defending others weaker than you grants:

Minor Strength

Minor Durability

Michael wondered if he earned that Deed for saving the civilians that were transporting the mercenary pay or if it was for defending Ollie in the raids they’d just done. It could’ve been both, he supposed. He also wondered who counted as weaker than him. A smile started to spread along his face.

“Hey guys, I just got a new Deed. Wanna see who the Divine thinks is stronger than me?”

Michael stood with Ollie slightly behind him and to the right, and Davi in front of him. They were both holding some training swords Michael had requisitioned for them. First, they just did some light sparring away from Ollie so that he could get a baseline, then it was time for the real test.

“I could easily fry you both. You know that, right?” said Ollie.

“Well, this first test will help me figure out if the Divine means physical strength with that Deed, which is what I assume it does.”

“Also, we’d both kick your ass before you got a spell off anyway,” said Davi with a smirk as he twirled his sword.

Ollie flipped him off, and Davi chuckled.

“All right, let’s test this out,” said Michael.

Davi lunged for Ollie with an overhead strike, and Michael caught the blow with his sword, parrying it just a few inches from Ollie’s face. They exchanged a few blows, and then they both stopped.

Davi nodded at him. “Yeah, it definitely felt different there.”

“For me too, sorry Ollie, the Divine thinks you’re a wuss.”

Ollie sighed. “I should just blow everyone up.”

“My go,” said Pyotr, taking Ollie’s spot. Just as it had happened before, Michael and Davi both felt him get a slight boost defending him, and it was the same with Marcus and Crick. The Divine seemed to think Michael had the edge on all of them, leading him to believe it was measuring physical strength. Finally, it was time for the real question.

Davi shook his head, standing behind Michael, while Pyotr stood in front of him. “Don’t see a point to this,” he said.

Michael wasn’t so sure. Davi was still larger than him, but not by much. Michael had been filling out more, his rapid recovery speeding his muscle growth and even making sure in situations where others might lose muscle mass, his would actually increase. They’d both kept up with their training when they could, sparring frequently and exercising when at the Fort, but Michael was starting to think he had the edge.

Pyotr lunged forward toward Davi, who didn’t even blink at the attack, and Michael moved quickly to parry the blow. He didn’t make it easy, dancing and striking a dozen different ways. Michael wouldn’t have had any trouble if he’d had a shield, but the defense was very difficult with just the sword. Still, he did feel a difference, and so did Pyotr. They stopped, and Ollie was laughing, picking up immediately on what their expressions meant.

“Ha! Pay up,” he said, holding a hand out to Marcus.

Marcus frowned and slid a few coppers into his hand.

“I think the Divine is biased,” said Davi, his tone betraying a bit more disappointment than Michael thought he meant it to.

Michael scratched his chin, looking at the sword in his hand. “Maybe it’s not that simple,” he said. “Let’s try something a little different.”

They then started trying some variations. When Davi had a sword the same as Michael and Pyotr did, Michael no longer gained his benefits from the Deed. That salved Davi’s wounded pride a bit. It held true for Pyotr as well, though he regained them when defending Marcus and Ollie even when they were holding swords.

“Maybe we try out how it works if we’re armored or unarmored, or if it’s different if someone’s holding an edged sword instead of a blunted one. If we could get the timing right when Ollie is casting a spell, I wonder if that would shift things as well? I wonder how nuanced this can be,” said Michael to everyone, but mostly to himself.

He felt a pat on his back.

It was Pyotr, whose dark beard was nearly full. “My friend, that sounds very fucking boring for the rest of us.”

Michael shook his head and sighed. “You’re right. Thanks for indulging me as long as you have, guys.”

“I’m down to help you test it out more, but maybe later,” said Marcus, hopping down from the barrel he’d been sitting on. “For now, I have a dice game to get to.”

“Want to find out which one of us is stronger the old-fashioned way?” asked Davi, holding a training sword.

Michael smiled. “There are worse ways to spend the time.”