In spite of the bad luck Ollie and Pyotr had attempted to put on their journey there were no krakens, sirens, pirates, or anything else. The route they took was well traveled, and they passed a number of trading vessels going in either direction without issue. The ocean was a beautiful blue so clear that Michael could actually see fish near the surface. Some looked familiar, but many others were new to him, and whenever the crew did any fishing he always made sure to see what they’d caught.

  Michael wound up being surprisingly busy with converts among the sailors. They asked him for interpretations of dreams, to heal minor wounds, or even just to share a quick prayer with them. Michael appreciated the distraction. He had managed to do a bit of training on board, and even some sparring with Pyotr, but they were limited by space and their battles were often cut short as they were too much of a distraction to the men. That left him a lot of time to stare at the water and think about things, which was as frustrating as it was necessary for Michael.

  As expected, Marcus found a card game, a dice game, and a ratcatching betting pool based on the hunting success of Fourth Mate Balthazar who Michael often saw sunbathing on deck. Luckily Marcus managed to stay ahead on everything so Michael didn’t need to beat any religion into sailors trying to shake him down. Pyotr focused on turning his magicka channels into spirals at Ollie’s advice and spent most of his time focused inwardly on that, or recovering from it. He had the brilliant idea to borrow Ollie’s hat while he did so, and to have his blessing from Michael changed to one from Bruntus that granted recovery. This made the process much quicker for it. Michael attempted to make his own channels into spirals while wearing the hat and managed to do a few successfully, though he lacked the talent of visualizing it easily in 3D that Ollie and Pyotr seemed to have.

  They were also gathered at least once a day by Shreve who gave them a lot of general advice about the roles they were meant to be playing. Marcus and Michael were meant to be playing the part of his assistants. That meant that they’d need to take his dictations, and act subservient to him when necessary. Michael wasn’t expected to hide the fact that he was a knight for this, as wearing multiple hats was not unexpected for diplomatic assistants from Hume. Ollie and Pyotr would be acting as bodyguards, so their roles were different, but Shreve had just as much instruction for them as he had for Michael and Marcus.

  “In the end you don’t need to be perfect in the role. Stent has a superiority complex and tends to enjoy the smells of their own backsides. If you make a mistake or embarrass me they will simply regard it as expected for provincial fools such as us. If anything it may make us more believable. That said if they treat you disrespectfully you may also act in kind since they expect us to be boorish anyway. I may reprimand you, try not to take it personally. We all know why we’re really there.”

  Michael found he liked the man. He was practical and seemed capable of the work. It was no surprise to him that King Marlo chose him for this mission..

  Stent came into view in late afternoon. From a distance the city looked like a mirror image of Hume’s capital. The older style domed buildings along with the active dock full of surprisingly advanced looking ships, almost made Michael wonder if they’d gotten turned around at some point. As things came more into focus though, the differences grew clearer. Hume’s capital was painted in myriad colors and patterns across every wall and roof. The entire city was a celebration of color. Stent’s capital on the other hand was bare and unpainted. The domes looked austere and pristine in the colour of tan stone. The ships at the docks were very different as well. They were sleeker, faster, and were all manned by soldiers wearing sharp Stent uniforms that brought a flood of memories back. Most of the uniforms were the standard dark gray he’d been used to, but the city’s militia seemed to favor a deep burgundy for their own.

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  As the light began to fade Michael saw all of the lights in the capital light up at once, magically powered lanterns around the city providing illumination for all. He saw a few civilians as they got even closer to the docks and noted, as he had when he’d first arrived in this world, that even the casual clothing in Stent had a military cut to it. The women seemed to favor pants over skirts as was common in all the other kingdoms, and the men wearing coats all had bright metallic buttons reminiscent of those worn by the soldiers.

  Michael and the others were told to stand in a specific spot, and they obeyed, getting out of the way of the sailors as they prepared to dock and standing a bit behind Shreve. None of them had too much trouble standing on deck at this point, though Pyotr looked the most natural as they stood there, despite the fact that he’d spent very little time on the water in either world.

  Michael watched with interest as the boat was settled, tied off, and the plank lowered for them to exit onto the dock. There was a small group of soldiers waiting for them, led by a Sergeant who seemed to have been born wearing a frown.

  Shreve led the way down the plank for them.

  “Welcome, honored guest, to Stent,” said the Sergeant, no attitude in his voice in spite of the contempt that was radiating from him.

  “The honor is mine Sergeant…?”

  “Brom, sir. I am to guide you to the palace and ensure your safety. Viscountess Nyda will meet with you there.”

  “Excellent. Please have your men carry our things,” Shreve gestured to the pile of luggage behind them. They had emptied their military packs into them so they’d look less suspicious. Ollie had needed to wrap his staff in purple cloth to hide that it was Stent make and Marcus had disassembled his rifle and hid its parts on his person along with the bullets and gunpowder. Pyotr, as a bodyguard, was wearing a new set of Hume armor rather than his Stent made gear, and had his sword and shield at his side. Michael’s armor was no longer recognizable, nor was his mace, but he still had them hidden away amongst the luggage. That said, he could sense them, and knew he’d be able to retrieve them quickly if needed.

  Brom frowned at the luggage for a moment, then gestured to his men who moved quickly to retrieve it. Michael felt a twinge of empathy for the man that grabbed the suitcase that contained his armor.

  They started walking through the city, the streets clearing as pedestrians saw their retinue making their way through. The people he saw reflected the same stark difference Michael had seen between the buildings in Stent and Hume’s capitals. In Hume Michael saw diverse groups of men and women wearing colorful garb and going about their personal business at a leisurely pace even with the apocalyptic number of rifts all around them. He’d see men and women pausing in the street to talk or eating meals outside of taverns or small food carts. Here everyone seemed busy. They were delivering letters, heading to meetings of some kind, or arguing about previous agreements. Those few men and women that were meeting socially were whispering about revolting soldiers, the situation at the border, or even imminent loss. The colors were more drab, and even those he could identify as nobility preferred navy, white, gray, or other more neutral colors. He could only identify them by the quality of their buttons or the way their eyes scanned ahead instead of looking downward.

  The streets were orderly and straight, and after only a few turns Michael saw the palace, which was placed similarly close to the docks as the Palace in Hume had been. ‘Palace’ was not quite how he’d describe it though. It seemed to lean more toward being a castle or a fort. It was all high walls, sharp edges, and square shapes in plain gray.

  They stopped at the main castle gate, waiting for a small convoy ahead of them, then they were stopped at the gate once the group ahead was through.

  “Why are we stopping?” asked Shreve.

  “New protocol, sir. Please bear with us for a moment.”

  There was a pause as a woman appeared with two knights escorting her. She was older, with black hair streaked with gray and a friendly face and bearing that contrasted sharply with her escorts. Michael recognized her immediately, and began to rapidly consider all of his options.

  Meera, his former mentor at the academy, stood in front of the group for a moment, her eyes shifting to a silver color as she examined them one by one. When her gaze settled on Michael, he was certain that she recognized him, but she said nothing, only nodding when she was done and turning to look at the Sergeant.

  “They are who they say they are,” she said with a smile.

  “Good. Let’s continue.”