Michael and Ollie sat in a room lined with old tomes and dozens of different heraldic banners. An old man with small spectacles and a hunched back had laid out dozens of different papers showing different shields, colors, animals, plants and even phrases. Michael assumed that the man would use some variation of ink transfer in order to layer each part and create something new. They needed to come up with heraldry for themselves now that they were going to be Counts.

  “It's been some time since I’ve had to create something new. I don’t think I’ve done it for a decade. I had hoped the Prince might want to do something new, as his father had, but he just defaulted to the oldest design that already had banners and emblems across Hume. A practical choice, but I would’ve preferred something a bit more challenging.” He straightened a sheet of paper on the right and moved a small stone to keep it from fluttering away. There was a window at one end of the room that was slightly open and the light breeze was just strong enough to shift papers every few seconds.

  Michael wondered why he didn’t just close the window, but it wasn’t his room, and the man seemed to like things his own particular way.

  “Do you two lords have an idea of how you wish this to look?”

  Michael smiled. He knew exactly what he wanted.

  “Per pale, argent and sable, a double-headed eagle displayed counterchanged, on a shield of the same, with the word 'Ingenium' written beneath in letters sable upon a tenné field.”

  “The fuck language is that?” asked Ollie.

  “It’s the traditional way to describe a blazon. My son Gabriel was really into this kind of thing and in school he had a project to make one for the family. I just described the one he made, but in Older Humish language. I asked Bren what the equivalent would be after training earlier.”

  “Very impressive my lord,” said the herald, already uncorking some silver and orange ink. “I had not expected one so recently elevated to be able to describe one in such a formal fashion.” He began to mumble a few words as he channeled his magicka, and after a moment ink began to float out onto the sheet in front of him and soon Michael was staring at a perfect version of the banner his son had painted all those years ago. The herald took a pen and himself wrote the word ‘Ingenium’ in perfect and beautiful handwriting. “I’ll need to check the records of other Hume kingdoms to make sure that it hasn’t been taken, but as this is fairly unique I don’t think there will be an issue, particularly using otherworld language for the words. I’ll send a copy to the seamstresses to have your banner for the parade started.”

  “Thank you,” replied Michael, just happy to bring another piece of his family into the world.

  “And you my lord? Have any idea what you’d like to use?”

  “For the record, I don’t think they have kangaroos or koalas here,” said Michael with a smile.

  “Yeah, I’m just going to go with a stereotype. There’s dragons here, mate. We haven’t met one, which I’m not happy about, but I will not pass up a chance to have one on my banner.”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be able to describe your heraldry the same way as your friend here?” asked the herald.

  “Uh, an Or dragon, on a shield of sable, with the words Righteous Upon Ye, on a uh crimson field.” Is that right? Does that work?”

  “Righteous upon ye…” Michael looked at him. “Good on ya? Really? What happened to not being a stereotype.”

  Ollie shrugged with a smile. “I think it sounds cool.”

  Michael was going to disagree but shook his head. “Damn. It kind of does.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  The herald finished Ollie's with an ink transfer as well and Michael had to admit it had wound up fairly striking as well.

  “I will look for any resemblance to yours in the archives as well, but as with Lord Mann’s here I don’t anticipate finding a match so I will send the design to the seamstress as well.”

  “Thank you,” said Michael.

  “Yeah, thanks mate. They look great.”

  The man smiled. “Of course. And I appreciate you two lords bringing me something to do.”

  They nodded and took their leave, walking down unfamiliar palace halls.

  Michael was feeling anxious. He could sense rifts beginning to ramp up again and had been helping to update the maps that tracked them over the last several days. Momentum was still on the side of Hume, and he’d seen many close as well, but it made him anxious to not be out helping them. He understood the purpose of him staying. The planned parade would be good for morale, and they needed to wait on their friends to arrive with Crick before they could head for Stent.

  “Think they’ll get here today?” Ollie asked as if reading his mind.

  “I’m not sure, Bayle seemed to think it may take at least another day.”

  “Check with your lame little eye power thing.”

  “Eyes of Love? It’s not lame; it’s very useful.”

  “The name is terrible, and you can tell Veras and Estaid I said so.”

  “I will not, but I’m sure you just made Nykas laugh by saying so.”

  “I did, and I wish he’d shut the fuck up. So are you going to check or not?”

  “The range on it isn’t infinite. They’d have to be closer than I think they are.”

  Ollie just looked at him.

  Michael sighed. “Fine, I’ll check.” He activated his eyes of love, seeing the thread connecting him to Ollie and Lance and then very quickly noticed the threads leading to Marcus, Pyotr, Lys, Trina, and Clara. They were at the gates to the palace.

  Excited, Michael ran out to the balcony closest to the gate, past a few startled servants and jumped. He created barriers beneath his feet as he ran in a straight shot to the gate over bewildered guards and others, Ollie caught up quickly by flying behind him. It was only a few minutes for him to reach the gate, where he saw a crowd of mercenaries gathered and speaking with guards.

  Michael leapt the last fifteen feet down, his durability keeping him from even having to roll as he landed. The group looked at him and several shapes broke from it to run toward him. Pyotr reached him first, yelling “Brother!” and they wrapped one another in a bear hug, trying to lift one another up for a few moments.

  He then did the same to Marcus, who returned the gesture just as fiercely, surprising him a bit with his strength.

  Ollie landed behind them and embraced them the same and Michael moved over to Trina, Lys, and Clara who he also wrapped in separate warm embraces.

  “I’m so glad to see the three of you alive,” he said as he separated from Trina. “I had heard that the company was on its way here, but I had no way of knowing who all would be here.” He looked at the rest of the company. He saw Suraj, Syl, and even Kai and Finn as well as a dozen other faces he recognized and many more he didn’t. He noticed almost all of them bore the six-sided symbol of the divine in one way or another. When his eyes reached Finn and Kai they looked away, but he was grateful to have them there. No matter how they had treated him, their skills in battle would save lives in Hume.

  “What brought you here?” he asked.

  Trina smiled at him. “The Gods did.”

  “How’s it feel?” asked Marcus from behind him.

  “I actually like hearing it. I don’t understand why everyone else acts so weird when they hear it.”

  Trina laughed. “I was sent a vision some time ago. It took a bit of time to convince everyone else to come with me, but eventually the war started to go poorly enough that there was little enough reason to stick around anyway.”

  Michael took her in for a moment. She was still young, but there was a hardness around the eyes, a straightness in how she stood. Her muscles were more developed, and her movements were keener. She seemed a bit underfed, as did everyone, but that was to be expected when coming from a warzone. In spite of all of that her smile was unchanged, and he was grateful for that.

  “Looks like you did a great job.”

  “Not good enough. There were a lot of people I couldn’t save.”

  He shook his head. “I know you. You probably healed and fought until you couldn't any more every single day you were there. Any losses weren’t on you. I’m sure Estaid would weigh your actions the same.”

  She looked at him for a moment, and nodded.

  Crick emerged from behind the group. He looked very different from how Michael had remembered him back in Stent and Tusynia. He was wearing primarily Cantalian garb, with high boots and thin armor, but he also had a spear at his back that radiated a kind of power that made Michael feel that it was at least from a titled beast if not titled itself. His expression was more confident and he’d traded the dull eyed stare of his disguise for the keen eyes of a fox.

  “Count Michael. You wouldn’t happen to be able to have them let us in, would you?”