“Would you like some tea?”
The question came out largely on automatic, common civility that had been drilled into me as a polite way of greeting someone who had arrived at my home.
“Ah. Oui, oui I would appreciate a drink.”
I stepped into the kitchen and began to make the tea in an almost mechanical manner. I made a cup for us both and brought the drinks back to the living room where the armoured young woman was looking at some of the pictures on the mantlepiece. Most of them were of either Chris or Doug’s family, but there was one of me with my parents from when I was twelve.
“These are your adopted parents?” She asked as she turned to face me, still holding the simple framed photo.
“You know I’m adopted?”
I asked, surprised that she hadn’t known what I looked like, but she had known I was adopted.
“I was told something of your circumstances when I was assigned this task. However, much was left unsaid so we could form our impressions of each other upon equal footing.”
“Ah . . . okay. Anyway, Amanda and Anthony, yes, they’re my parent, the best I could’ve hoped for!”
Setting her tea on the table in the middle of the room I took a deep breath as we both sat down. She had seated herself in one of the big armchairs and I had taken one end of the sofa.
“All right, you said that you were here for me, right? So, what’s going on?” I paused for a moment, then changed my mind. “No, actually, how about you tell me who you are? You know who I am, so who am I talking to?”
“Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier,” She said, leaning forward in her chair in a sort of seated bow. “I am Jeanne, once known as Jeanne d’Arc, the Maiden of Orleans. You may address me by my English name of Joan, if you so choose, I understand it has become the more popular version of my name in the years since my passing. Regardless, I have been returned to the world by our Lord’s will so that I might once more fulfil His design.”
The teacup I was holding rattled against the saucer as my hand trembled and I felt a surge of adrenaline hit my system as I realized I had JOAN OF ARC sitting in my living room!
Resurrected souls weren’t an unknown in the world after the Black Sun, but they were rare. Certain champions of the gods had been given life once more to serve their patrons as they were needed. There were rumours that Heracles had been resurrected in Australia to aid in one of Zeus’ schemes, and it was confirmed that Saint George had been returned to the world by heavenly agency. Here in Britain, we had King Arthur, who had returned from Avalon to safeguard the lands he once ruled.
There had been a lot of interest in them when they first appeared, and it was originally suggested that they were demigods that had been returned by their parents. Though this was the case with some of them it was also confirmed by both gods and angels that many of them had not a drop of divine blood in them. This didn’t seem to hold them back too much, though they tended to be a bit weaker in terms of raw power. Most made up for that by possessing odds traits or skills that were unique to them, though there were outliers like King Arthur, who possessed power on a level with a true god.
Joan of Arc getting resurrected was understandable. She was one of the most famous female saints in the world, and unlike most others, she had a distinctly martial background that made it even more likely she’d be chosen as a warrior of Heaven. I could also see the clues now, her slight French accent, the armour, her obvious reverence for God.
“I . . . I am honoured to meet you.” I managed to get out.
Even as I said it, I was mentally going over everything I knew about her. Granted, most of it was stuff films and documentaries. Still, it was something to go on.
If I remembered right Joan of Arc was a French peasant girl born during the last years of the Hundred Year War between England and France. At the time England had been winning, having seized many important locations, including a large chunk of the north of France, as well as the place where the King had to be crowned in order to be officially recognised. Joan had visions that told her to drive the English from her country, and she set out to do just that. She was attributed with immense charisma and luck because nothing else would explain how she’d managed to accomplish the things she did.
Firstly, she managed to convince the king of the time to let her, an illiterate farm girl only seventeen years old, her take charge of the country’s army. Then she managed to lead that army to victory at Orleans, thus gaining her name, and revitalizing a country that had been on the brink of despair. She then went on to score several victories that led the French to eventually drive the English from their lands.
In the end, she was captured though and placed on trial for heresy and witchcraft by the English. If I remembered right, they were unable to prove anything and ended up sentencing her to death for what was essentially wearing men’s clothing, and they were only able to do that because they had a completely biased jury. She ended up being burnt at the stake, but her death was not enough to swing the tide back in the favour of the English, and about twenty years later the Hundred Years War ended. Another decade or so later a retrial was held that exonerated Joan of all the charges against her.
Still, there were a few things that were jumping out at me as I looked at her. Most historical depictions of Joan of Arc showed her to have dark hair, brown or black, not blonde, and she wasn’t hailed as some great beauty either. Additionally, even though she did wear armour there was no historical proof that she had ever actually wielded weapons. Her role had been as a leader and a boost to morale. I was pretty sure I’d read that she said she had rather carried her banner than a sword.
One thing was for sure, she clearly had some sort of divine powers now. That demonstration with the tree made that pretty clear.
“The honour is mine. When I was chosen for this holy duty what other recourse could there be but to accept?”
“You were chosen by God?”
I had so many questions! What was being dead like? What was Heaven like? How had she come back to life? What was with the new look? Was she an angel now? What kind of being was God? It was all I could do not to start spitting them out as they came to me.
“Oui,” The one word was spoken utterly without any of the sort of pride or confidence that I would have expected from such a claim. Instead, there was only a respectful reverence for the one about whom she spoke. “It was my privilege to be chosen for this task by the Lord Almighty himself. I now walk the earth once more by his Grace, and I shall complete the task he has assigned me.”
I took a large gulp of my tea. It was oddly comforting as I felt the warm liquid travel down my throat and settle into my stomach. I took a moment to let it sit there, to let it calm the moths that seemed to have taken up residence there, before opening my eyes and looking directly at the resurrected heroine before me.
“All right, I think I’m braced now. What do you need me for, and why me?”
That was it, this was the billion-dollar questions and I had to set my teacup down as I asked it. As I did so Joan nodded.
“You are, of course, aware of the demigods that have emerged and continue to emerge in the wake of the return of the old power?”
I just nodded. One would have to be an absolutely wilful hermit cut off from all society to have avoided hearing about it.
“And you are aware of how some of these have been revealed to be the children of Heaven, Nephilim born of angels that took mortal flesh during the time of Separation?”
Again, I nodded. The revealing of the Nephilim had been . . . disruptive in the Judaeo-Christian community as it had proven that angels could have carnal relations with mortals without falling from Grace.
As with the gods, angels could enter the mortal realm during the time that the power of the divine and the infernal had been locked out. The difference was that while the gods could retain some of their memories and come and go as they wished, the angels and the demons had to pay steeper prices. Unlike gods they didn’t keep any sense of their original selves, no memories, no convictions, nothing. they were essentially reset to zero as they were reborn.
The threat was that whatever sins they committed as a mortal still hung onto them when they returned to the Heavens. An angel could lead such a terrible life that they’d Fall as soon as their power returned. This was unusual though since most of the angelic ranks only went to the mortal realm to try to experience the joys of love and family, and the results of this had been the Nephilim.
Nephilim were rarer than demigods since fewer angels had come to the mortal world than the gods. That said the children of angels were every bit as formidable as the offspring of the deities.
Did she mean that I was one? That would make sense, it would certainly explain why a resurrected saint was knocking on my door.
“I have been charged to find you because I was told that your blood is that of one of the highest lineages in Heaven. The Almighty spoke to me and told me to find and guard you, to act as your protector, your teacher, and your friend. Yours is to be a hard life, but it is my duty to be at your side.”
What was I possibly meant to say in response to that? I mean, sure, it’s the dream of most guys for someone to turn up and say, ‘You, you are special, and it is your destiny to be a great hero!’ That’s the kind of childhood fantasy that sticks with you. It’s the reason that even as you grow up you still enjoy films and books and comics about fantasy tales of knights, dragons, superheroes and so on. But you enjoy it because it’s just a fantasy, a daydream that is fun to indulge in. You can imagine yourself as the brave hero, gifted with good looks and charm, respected by all, loved by many, invincible in combat, knowledgeable outside it, that’s the appeal of the fantasy.
It’s quite another thing to find out it was actually happening to you. Suddenly all those brushes with death, those nail biting fights, those sudden betrayals, they didn’t look anywhere near as much fun anymore.
“I . . . I . . . What . . . what am I meant to do?!”
The last came out as almost a whine, I just couldn’t help it.
“That our Lord could not tell me. The future is a matter of free will, and though his majesty surpasses such things as time and the unknown, he protects our freedom by not interfering. He did tell me that you are born to great power, that your bloodline will make you one that will influence the course the world shall take. This can be for good or for ill though, and there will be those that shall try to use you for their own ends, or slay you so that you may not interfere with their goals.”
“But . . . but I’m just me! I . . . I’m just a guy that doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life! Great power? ME?! I . . . I mean, come on . . .”
Even though my words might have been tinged with growing hysteria they did carry the weight of truth to them. Those that had the blood of divinity, it seemed to me, were always marked in some way even before their powers awoke. They were unusually tall, athletically gifted, natural combatants, uncommonly beautiful or handsome or something. Me? I was just a normal guy, normally average, normally odd.
How the hell could I be a child of divinity when I was so ordinary?
“Have faith, Adam.” The absolute certainty in her calm and gentle voice was actually somewhat intimidating. “Notre Signeur would not have sent me here to find you unless it was for a reason. He told me to come to this home and to ask for the one called Adam. That is you, so you are the one that I have come to aid. There is power hidden in you, and it is a power that will one day serve in His plan. The world is in turmoil now, the gods that were once worshipped by the pagans have returned, and so too have their monsters and enemies. Already there are those that have risen up to protect the innocent, both among the gods and their offspring, but there will be a need for more. You have hidden depths that will make you suitable for what is to come, believe in Him.”
She paused for a moment, and the look she directed at me was breath-taking. Have you ever had someone look at you with absolute faith? Loving parents can believe in you. Romantic partners can have faith in you. Siblings can tell you that you can do it. But at the end of the day, you know they’re biased, that that it’s all subjective. Joan, she wasn’t voicing an opinion, as far as she was concerned, she was stating facts, something she knew with absolute certainty. The sky was blue, water was wet, things fell, and I was worth protecting.
I was inspired, excited, exhilarated. I was also completely and utterly terrified.
“You really think I’ve got something like that hidden in me?”
She just nodded at my question and then tilted her head slightly to the side.
“Yes, He would not tell me an untruth before setting this task upon me. The power of Heaven sleeps within you, I am certain, it is simply hidden.”
She paused for a moment.
“Very well hidden.”
Ouch, that one went right to the ego. Did she have to hit the nail on the head quite that hard?
“Thanks.”
The single word came out rather dry, but I could feel a smile tugging at my lips. Joan seemed to be reciprocating, though hers was a subtle thing.
“So, now what?”
The resurrected hero took a drink of her tea and then sat back into the armchair, her face becoming serious.
“Your safety has to take priority, but there should be a short time before the forces moving against you can find you. We should use that time to work to awaken your dormant divinity before then, you will be more likely to survive if you have power of your own to use.”
“I . . . you know how to do that?”
As far as I knew there wasn’t any known safe and reliable way for a demigod or Nephilim to Awaken to their powers on their own. There were cases where a god or other Legend had found their child or descendant and had Awakened them. This came easily to them since they were the source of the demigod’s divinity it was almost as simple as one candle lighting another, and completely safe for both of them
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A demigod Awakening without the aid of their progenitor was another matter entirely.
Several ways were known, the results of observing demigods that Awakened on their own. The problem was that none of them were reliable. Even if you had divine blood in you, trying to force the Awakening was likely to go wrong. Still, those desperate for power or security would try anything.
So far three general ways to Awaken had been figured out.
The simplest method was to have a demigod be infused by some external power. This could be done by a divine progenitor, a friendly god, or even a helpful magic user. It could also be done by the unawakened demigod stumbling into an area saturated by power or being in contact with a magic item when it broke. If done by someone that knew what they were doing it could be less risky, but for the unlucky or unprepared it could lead to fates worse than death.
The most common way so far was to Awaken due to experiencing an extremely strong surge of emotions. The absolute fear for your life, the despair of losing everything, the blazing outrage of injustice and discrimination, that was the sort of thing you needed to kindle sleeping divinity. It was utterly unreliable though, and many deaths had resulted from those thinking that putting themselves in danger could net them powers.
Lastly, it seemed possible for demigods to Awaken themselves using nothing but self-control and discipline. In Asia, there were publicized examples of dormant demigods Awakening their powers after extended and intense meditation. The problem was that months or even years of dedicated training were needed, the demigods who had Awakened this way having been monks or yogis.
The problem was that we knew so little, that these strange powers were so new and alien. The powers of divinity and magic just didn’t fit into the framework of the world we were used to.
“Your divinity is very strong and will be difficult to Awaken. However, I have learnt of a method by which it could be done safely. It will take some time to set up, but once I have it ready it should only take an hour or two to awaken the power of Heaven that you possess.”
The power of Heaven . . . I’d never been too concerned about who my blood parents were, as I said before. Anthony and Amanda were my parents, and I had never been concerned with it being otherwise, but not now . . . now that I had a chance to learn . . .
“You say my power is from Heaven, does that mean an angel was one of my blood parents?”
Joan paused for a moment, looking at me as she took another sip of tea. Her look was gentle, but there was also regret there. As soon as she began to answer I understood why.
“I don’t know, I am sorry to say. The Lord God did not inform me as to what your parentage was, only that your power would be great. He told me that it was not simply a matter of who your divine parent was, the bloodline of your mortal parent was also a distinguished one, one that could be traced back to when Bath Kol took mortal flesh and sired a child.”
That just drew a confused blink from me.
“Bath who?”
It might not have been the most sophisticated reaction, but I wasn’t at my best. I did notice a brief flash of disappointment cross Joan’s face before she replied.
“Bath Kol is the Daughter that Bears the Voice of God to mankind. She is one of the strongest angels, sister to the likes of Michael, Gabriel and Raphael.”
“I thought it was the Metatron that was the Voice of God.” I blurted out.
“The Metatron is the angel that carries the Word of God to those prophets and holy men that are meant to guide His flock and pass on His wisdom. When the Lord wishes to speak to all of his mortal children, when it is time to proclaim His judgement or to announce His will it is Bath Kol that acts as His Voice.”
“And she’s what? My great, great grandmother?”
“I believe the ancestry is a bit more removed. As I understand it, the last time the Daughter of the Voice descended to the mortal realm Britain was still protected by the Knights of the Round Table.”
Okay, that one I did know. King Arthur had been estimated to have ruled England somewhere in early 500AD. The collapse of Camelot had been one of the signs of the final end of the Age of the Gods.
“All right, do you have any ideas who my parent is? Even if . . . even if God didn’t tell you you’ve got to have some ideas of your own, right?”
“It is really not my place to speculate upon the angels of our Lord.” She said. “I . . . I cannot completely remember my time in Heaven, not anymore. To retain my sanity after returning to this world of mortal existence He needed to dull my memories or suppress whole parts. I do not remember much, but I do remember the angels. Here, in this world, they are great beings with powers that allow them to match the gods and stand above humanity, but they are constrained by the forms they take. In Heaven though, there they were unfettered, and I can recall something of them.”
She paused and looked up at me, her eyes intense and piercing.
“They are beings of light and will that are as close to perfection as can be without being their creator. They are will, purpose, and radiance incarnate, but at the same time, they are terribly close to being like mortals. They have emotions in the way we do, but there is more to them than that, things that our minds can’t conceive of because they are so different. Even so, they want the same things we do. They have a part of them that yearns for things like love and children.”
Joan paused again, looking at me with eyes that were now a bit sad.
“They cannot have children. Angels are created by the Lord God and are fully matured and aware from the instant that they come into being, so they have no childhoods. Angels cannot have children with one another, so there is no way for pure-blooded offspring to be born. The only way an angel can become a parent is with a mortal, that is why so many of them chose to take mortal flesh, even after the Paths of Divinity were broken.
“To have a child, to see a new life come into the world and to know that you are a part of them, just as they will always be a part of you, that is what so many of the ranks of Heaven wish for. Even the greatest angels such as Michael and Gabriel have such wants buried inside them. So, it could be any of them, from the simple soldiers to the great Archangels that serve as His direct hands. There is little way to know.”
Again, she paused, then smiled slightly as she set her now empty cup down.
“Still, the children of angels reflect their parents. Once we have awakened your power its nature and form will let narrow things down somewhat if your curiosity is still burning by then.”
Honestly, I didn’t know how to feel about that. I actually had a chance to learn who my blood parents had been, to know where I came from and why I had been abandoned. Old insecurities, old wants, old anger, things I thought I’d laid to rest and buried. Damn it, why did things have to be so complicated?
“All right, how do we go about this whole ‘wake up my divinity’ thing? You said you needed time to set things up, is it a ritual of some sort?”
“In a way, yes,” she said, “Your divinity could be unlocked by various routes. However, He imparted the knowledge of how your dormant powers might be Awakened safely.”
Her hand reached towards the armour at her back and fiddled for a moment, then she carefully pulled out three small white feathers. Well, calling them white didn’t really do them justice. The words ‘pristine’ or ‘immaculate’ might have been more in the correct line of meaning, but remained inadequate. Each one was a perfect paleness that seemed to be utterly unmarred by any hint of another colour. In addition, the feathers themselves were beautiful, each just under a foot long and utterly flawless in their form. One would not believe that they had just been pulled from some bag or satchel; instead, they appeared as though they had only just fallen from the wing they had belonged to.
“These are feathers given for this task by Bath Kol herself. Thanks to the bloodline that you share with her the power in these should be enough to kindle your own into full strength. It will require a ritual though, one that calls upon certain pagan forces.”
Her face grew somewhat disgruntled at that, which actually looked rather funny on her.
“Calling upon the powers of certain earthborn divinities will allow us to slowly drain the feathers and use their power to release your own. It will not be a swift process though, and we will need to be in a more secure location before we can begin.”
She scooped up the feathers and returned them to where she had taken them from, causing me to feel a slight pang of loss as they disappeared. She then took a look around the room again. This time I noticed her eyes focusing on the walls and windows, a measuring look to her.
“This domicile is unsafe; it would be unwise to stay here any longer than needed. Pack what clothing and belongings you’ll need for a week or so, maybe longer.”
“Wait, what?! Why? Where’re we going? No, wait, hang on a second! What do you mean this place is unsafe?”
She looked at me as though I had just asked a particularly stupid question and she was trying to think of a polite way to let me know that.
“Adam, I said that this ritual is to Awaken your power, and it will take time to perform. When I said that there were those seeking you out that had ill intentions for you, I did not mean it as some future issue we will face. I meant that right now, at this very minute, there are powerful players that are trying to find you with every resource at their disposal.”
It wasn’t that I’d forgotten what she’d said about having to protect me, but in the rush of information about me being a Nephilim, Bath Kol being my ancestor and how my power was going to be woken up it hadn’t clicked. Demons, gods, they were coming after me. ME!
I’d seen what those kinds of divinities could do. Gods, regardless of how weak they were, could do enormous levels of damage, potentially set off riots or burn down whole cities. Demons, on the other hand, were even more terrifying. They were far more vicious and malicious than the gods. Most of the time they seemed more concerned with fighting whatever angel they were facing at the time, rather than the mortals around them, but when they did turn their attention upon them it was never a good thing.
“But . . . why? I mean, there are other demigods in the world, why come after me?”
She gave me that look again, this time with a touch of . . . disappointment, maybe.
“The Lord God has placed importance upon your existence, I have been returned to the mortal world to aid you, and one of the highest caste of angels has donated her feathers to awaken your power. You can’t think this is all for just any demigod, do you?”
Well, when you put it like that . . .
“Adam, I do not claim to know what is planned for you, or for me, but I do know that these steps would not be taken without good reason. I don’t know how these others know of you, only that they do, and they intend to do something about it. I have been charged with protecting and aiding you, and I do not think that I can do it here.”
She gestured around the house which, I will admit, was not a bastion of security. I mean, it was just a house, it wasn’t meant to be a fortress again the onslaughts of the hostile forces of divinity, it was meant to keep the rain off, to keep the cold out, not lightning bolts or fireballs.
“So,” I asked, not entirely sure if I wanted to know the answer. “Where do you think we should go?”
Joan smiled at that, standing from the armchair.
“Le bon Dieu did not simply drop me back into the mortal world with nothing but my armour and sword. Nor was I sent here just a few minutes ago. I have been back for the better part of a month, and I have been able to make some preparations.”
“Oh,” I have to confess that her confidence was once again infectious. I could feel my anxiety lowering in the face of that certainty. “So where are we going? Where did you set up?”
“France, of course. I was able to renovate a somewhat isolated old farmhouse into a passable fortress.” She paused for a moment, letting light play across her fingers, then smiled. “The divine gifts I received from the Lord made renovating it far easier than you would expect.”
“France?”
Did we really have to leave the country?
“Indeed,” she confirmed. “The new domicile is out in the countryside and away from the more populous areas. We should be undisturbed there, sufficiently so that we can conduct the ritual without interference.”
Right, a hot girl has appeared on my doorstep and is now asking me to run off with her to a secluded spot in France where it’ll be just the two of us together. Why was it that the description of the scenario sounded so much more appealing than it actually was? Curse you, real life! Why must you crush my dreams like this?!
I dismissed thoughts of romantic getaways and tried to focus on the more important here and now. I wasn’t going to protest this relocation, that was a given. Sure, this was coming out of nowhere, but compared to learning that I might be hunted down, it wasn’t too much of a shock.
“Look, I get that this is important, but can’t I have a day or so to sort stuff out? I can’t just disappear!”
Even as I said it, I realized how . . . mundane it sounded. I was unhappy that I had to leave my nice normal home, my normal life, and my normal friends.
In legend the lives of the demigods were exciting, violent, and, above all, brief. The children of the divinities did possess powers that most mortals could only dream of, but those very powers came with many strings attached. They were pulled into the contests and conflicts of their divine progenitor, they were naturally drawn to events of importance, monsters were naturally drawn to them, the list just went on. Suddenly, my life seemed rather appealingly normal.
“Adam,” I had expected Joan to be irritated by my query, but instead she sounded understanding. “I know that I am asking a lot, but I would not do it if it was not needful. Nephilim are powerful, and you are going to be very strong. More than that, notre Seigneur has placed importance upon you, so that makes you all the more significant. When the Paths of Divinity opened again all of the old powers saw the chance to do everything from escaping their boredom to once more ruling empires. The demons regained access to earth while the angels could once more battle them in the flesh. You represent a potentially major factor in this, one that can push things in any number of directions, and that makes you very valuable.
“If you stay here, things will not go well. Even with the protection that Arthur offers this land, there are still a number of minor incursions every few days, gods or demons who invade in raids. I believe you were in the area when Abriel and Bellbarath battled near here a few weeks ago. That sort of thing happens. It is only the major incursions that attract the King of your nation. Do you truly think it would be very difficult to infiltrate the country if the divinity in question was willing to conceal themselves?”
No, no I did not. The reason that most gods were easy to track was that by their very nature they were about as subtle as a heavy metal concert. Stealth just wasn’t their nature, not unless they tried very, very hard. Sure, sometimes you had those that concealed themselves, but even they tended to drop their facades as soon as they had half a chance to dramatically reveal themselves
Just how hard would they be willing to try to get me? I still didn’t quite get this whole thing about ‘God’, seeing me as important. But I did get how it would make me a target. And not just for gods either, demons were probably even more of a threat to me. Gods might be more powerful in general than the demons were, but the demons had two advantages the gods generally lacked, namely stealth and numbers. The forces of Hell were accustomed to moving silently, to not letting themselves be seen, to sticking to the shadows. If it was kidnap or assassination I had to worry about, then it was far more likely that the demons would pull it off than the gods.
“Okay, I get that it needs to be done, but does it have to be now? Can’t I get a bit of time to get things ready?”
Joan shook her head, and there was a moment when a look of guilt flashed across her face.
“I’m sorry Adam, that’s not really an option, not now.”
“What do you mean?”
Again, that look of guilt, but even so she met my eyes unflinchingly.
“My presence is harder to track than that of an angel, but there are ways to do it. Those that will want to find you will know how to follow me, and it won’t take them long. We have only a matter of hours before they can use me to find you. I’m sorry.”
Her words hit me, and almost immediately I felt anger and betrayal welling up.
“So, the only reason that I’m in danger is because you’ve led them to me?!”
It was half a question and half an accusation. I thought I could see a trace of hurt in the resurrected soul’s eyes.
“No, they would have found you in time, that is for certain. It might have taken as long as a year, or they might have been able to locate you in a matter of days, but there is no question that they would have found you. Your divinity is strong, and it grows within you every day. Adam, that kind of power is not meant to be contained forever. Even if I had never come here it would have forced itself to awaken in time. However, as it grows closer to doing so your power is . . . leaking out, making it easier for those with the correct powers or skills to find you.”
She paused for a moment, then leaned forward, her face a picture of sincerity.
“I knew that coming here would precipitate matters, but it was the only thing I could do. By coming here, I can take you somewhere safer, somewhere we can see to awakening your divinity safely so that you at least have some power to protect yourself. This is surely the better option to just leaving you on your own until another with less benign intentions found you. Would you have believed any of this had we not met face to face? If I had just written you a message and had someone else deliver it? I thought to come here to prove my sincerity, but in the end, you needed to see my divine gifts before you would trust in my words.”
She was right, though it pained me to admit it. I couldn’t think of another way that would have gotten me to trust her in regard to this.
“Okay, what will I need?”
“The residence I have prepared is well stocked with food and drink,” Joan assured me, standing up herself. “However, there is little in the way of the more modern amenities aside from the essentials. There is power from a generator, and there is plumbing, but there is nothing in the way of internet connections, nor even an aerial for a television. Aside from clothing, I’d recommend bringing something to read.”
Ah, so not quite roughing it, but I would be cut off from the great sea of all human knowledge for a while. Well, it wouldn’t be any stranger than camping or something like that, at least not that part of it. Still . . .
“Will we be out of reception? I mean, if I drop off the grid completely, I’d think that my friends and family would get more than a bit concerned.”
“Then leave them a message,” She didn’t sound irritated, but there was a definite urgency to her tone now. “Though I suggest not letting them know the full details, doing so might well put them in danger. Perhaps some of the truth?”
Yes, that could work. I was going to try to call them before I started writing though.
“Thanks, I think I can do something with that. Okay, let me go get packed.”
I paused for a moment, then looked back to Joan.
“How are we going to get to where we want? Do you have plane tickets or something? What’s my carry-on limit?”
Even as I asked the questions my mind was distracted by another question, namely how Joan was going to get on board a plane while wearing armour.
“I have other options at my disposal; rest assured there will be little difficulty in getting you and your luggage where we are going.”
The smile on her face was pleasant, but there was a quality to it that I couldn’t get, maybe . . . amusement? Well, whatever it was I could worry about it later. I turned and headed up to my room, already mentally planning what I could take.