Part 1
Two days had passed since Seraphina had provided the emergency medical supplies that stabilized Velika's condition, and the infirmary had become a center of constant activity. Word had spread through Podem that the Great Mage would attempt a miraculous healing, and soldiers took turns visiting their wounded captain, bringing small offerings—carved wooden figures, pressed flowers, even precious morsels of food saved from their rations. Velika accepted each gift with the same gruff humor that had sustained her through countless campaigns, though James noticed how she unconsciously favored her injured leg whenever she thought no one was watching.
"The swelling's gone down considerably since yesterday," James murmured, gently examining her leg in the morning light streaming through the high windows. His fingers traced carefully around the splint that held her shattered bone in place—the legacy of that mana-enhanced arrow that had nearly ended her life during the battle against Nikolaos. "But the underlying damage..." He trailed off, his expression troubled.
Velika caught his concern immediately. "Spit it out, Mage. I've faced worse news than a permanent limp."
"It's not just a limp." James met her eyes directly, knowing she deserved honesty. "The arrow shattered the bone, and the way it healed during the retreat—walking will always be painful. Running or fighting..." He shook his head.
"So I'm finished as a warrior." Velika's voice remained steady, but something flickered in her eyes—not self-pity, but a soldier's recognition of reality. "Well, I suppose I lasted longer than most. Not many can say they survived one of Nikolaos's mana-enhanced arrows and lived to tell about it."
Suddenly, a familiar tingling in James's mind made him straighten abruptly. Around them, the infirmary continued its normal bustle—attendants changing bandages, soldiers groaning on their pallets—completely unaware of the silent conversation beginning in their midst.
"Now?" James subvocalized, glancing at Velika who watched him with raised eyebrows. Bisera stood nearby, reviewing reports from the various patrols, but close enough to observe the healing.
"Indeed. I have a proposition regarding our brave captain's injuries. One that will require some... theatrical presentation."
James's stomach tightened. Seraphina's "propositions" invariably came with unexpected costs and complications. "What kind of proposition?"
"The kind that will heal her completely—or as completely as modern medicine allows. Top-tier orthopedic reconstruction, nerve repair, the works. I'm offering the equivalent of what your world's finest medical facilities could provide."
"That's..." James blinked. "That's incredible. What's the catch?"
"Catch?" Seraphina's mental voice carried amusement. "My dear James, I'm merely offering a service at fair market value. The procedures Captain Velika requires would cost approximately $80,000 in Shanghai's best hospitals—excellent quality at reasonable prices compared to your North American rates. Or if you prefer, we could price it at Tokyo's premier facilities, though that would run closer to $72,000 thanks to recent currency depreciations in Japan."
James felt the blood drain from his face. "That is so expensive!"
"Not expensive, darling. Divine medical intervention equivalent to world-class surgical procedures. The cosmic laws of equivalent exchange must be maintained. I can't simply grant miracles without proper compensation—it would upset the universal balance."
"Universal balance," James repeated weakly. "You're talking about universal balance while quoting medical tourism prices?"
"Seoul would be another excellent option," Seraphina continued, ignoring his dismay. "Their reconstructive capabilities are superb, and we're looking at about $50,000 for the full treatment package. Quite reasonable, really."
Velika watched James's face cycle through various shades of disbelief. "Problem, Mage?"
"Seraphina is... offering to heal you … almost completely," James managed. "But we are working out the method."
"What?"
"Oh, don't look so shocked," Seraphina's voice chided in his mind alone. "How did you think I maintained cosmic fairness? Random acts of kindness? Supernatural interventions operates on principles of fairness, James. Speaking of which, given your current liquidity issues—"
"My what?"
"Your account balance, dear. Between the android, medical supplies, and various other expenditures, you're not exactly flush with ready capital. However, I'm prepared to extend a line of credit."
James sat down heavily on a nearby stool. "You're offering me a celestial credit line. With interest, I assume?"
"Equivalent to your home equity line rate—quite generous, really. Prime plus 0.5%. Unless you'd prefer the unsecured rate, but that's significantly higher."
"This is insane." James ran his hands through his hair. "You're an archangel, not a banker!"
"I'm both, technically. Cosmic accounting is a serious compliance requirement, James. Now, about the treatment—I'll need to manifest the healing as visible light for maximum impact. The people need to see miracles to believe in them."
"Visible light?" James's voice rose slightly, drawing a concerned glance from Bisera. "You want to put on a light show?"
"In the main courtyard, I think. Maximum visibility. Have Velika brought there—"
"Absolutely not." James stood abruptly. "These people are conservative—late 9th-century conservative. A woman exposed in public for medical treatment? The scandal would—"
"Maybe you should first ask Velika." Seraphina stated flatly.
But Velika's answer surprised James.
James stared at her. "Velika, you don't understand. Many people would be watching. Your leg would need to be exposed for the treatment to—"
"My leg, which currently looks like a butcher's mistake?" Velika snorted. "Let them see what their enemies do to warriors who stand between them and our homes. And then let them see heaven's answer to such cruelty."
"Well said!" Seraphina's approval rang through James's mind. "I do like this one. Such practical thinking."
"You planned this," James accused mentally. "You wanted the public spectacle."
"Of course I did. How else will they learn to provide proper offerings?"
"Offerings?" James felt his headache intensifying. "This is about offerings?"
"Among other things. Shall we proceed? The morning sun is perfect for dramatic lighting."
Bisera approached, having noticed James's obvious distress. "Is everything alright for the healing?" she asked, her voice carrying the authority of command but tempered with genuine concern for James and her friend.
"Seraphina insists on a public demonstration," James said carefully. "Maximum visibility for... divine reasons."
Bisera's pondered for a split second. "Seraphina is quite wise. It's exactly what we need," she said slowly. "Witnessing such a miracle would certainly boost troop morale after all we've endured."
Within an hour, word had spread through Podem like wildfire. The Great Mage would perform a healing miracle in the main courtyard. Citizens abandoned their work, soldiers left their posts with hasty permissions, and even the nobility emerged from their quarters to witness what many had only heard described in hushed whispers.
Bisera stood beside James at the courtyard's edge, her expression carefully neutral.
The courtyard filled rapidly. Mothers lifted children onto their shoulders, merchants jostled for better positions, and soldiers formed rough ranks around the edges. At the center, attendants had placed a simple pallet where Velika now lay, her injured leg exposed from knee to ankle. The mass of scar tissue and misaligned bone where the arrow had shattered everything drew gasps from those close enough to see clearly.
"Sweet Spirit preserve us," someone whispered. "How does she even walk?"
Velika, for her part, appeared utterly unbothered by the attention. She'd even requested her armor be polished for the occasion, joking that if she was to be a spectacle, she'd be a proper military one.
"Ready?" James asked quietly, kneeling beside her.
"Yes," Velika replied. "Always ready for divine grace."
James nodded and closed his eyes, opening his mind to Seraphina's presence. "We're ready."
"Excellent. Now, stand back and I shall work the magic. Oh, and James? Try to look suitably mystical. Wave your hands or something."
"Wave my—"
The air above Velika suddenly shimmered. A column of pure golden light descended from the cloudless sky, so brilliant that the crowd cried out and shielded their eyes. Those who could bear to watch saw the light envelope Velika completely, her form becoming a silhouette within radiance that seemed to pulse with life itself.
"Behold!" Seraphina's voice rang out—not in James's mind but seemingly from the light itself, echoing off the courtyard walls with inhuman resonance.
The crowd fell to their knees as one, even hardened soldiers pressing their foreheads to the cobblestones. Only James remained standing, and only because Seraphina was somehow keeping him upright.
"Is that necessary?" he subvocalized.
"Presentation is everything, darling. Now watch.
The light around Velika intensified, and James could see—somehow, despite the brilliance—what was happening to her leg. Flesh rippled and reformed, scar tissue dissolving like morning mist. Bones shifted with audible clicks that should have been agonizing but produced no screams. Muscles that had been twisted and withered suddenly filled out, returning to their original strength. All the while Velika seemed to have gone into a slumber.
The process continued for what felt like an eternity, but probably was just hours. The crowd remained prostrate, many weeping openly at what they were witnessing. James heard prayers in multiple languages—Vakerian, Old Gillyrian, even what sounded like Rosagar dialect from some of the eastern soldiers.
Finally, the light began to fade. As it dissipated, Velika woke up and slowly sat up, staring at her leg in wonder. Where grotesque scarring had marked her from knee to ankle, smooth skin now showed only the faintest lines—surgical scars, James realized, consistent with modern orthopedic procedures.
"Rise, Captain Velika," Seraphina's voice commanded. "Rise and walk."
Velika swung her legs off the pallet and stood in one smooth motion. No hesitation, no favoring of the injured limb. She took a step, then another, then suddenly broke into a normal walk, circling the courtyard with the easy grace of the warrior she'd always been, albeit in a much slower pace.
The crowd erupted. Prayers turned to cheers, cheers to songs of praise. Soldiers embraced, citizens wept.
After James had dismissed the crowd in an almost regal gesture as directed by Seraphina, her voice rang again in his mind.
"Shall we discuss your current balance?"
James felt his legs go weak. "My balance?"
"Well, yes. The android cost $800,000—a bargain for military-grade technology, really. The various medical supplies and treatments have been adding up. Oh, and there was that $1,500 for repairing Selene's skin during her demonstration."
"Eight hundred thousand," James repeated faintly.
"She did save your life," Seraphina pointed out. "Several times, if I recall correctly. And your life insurance payout is valued at $1 million, so really, you're getting a discount on life-saving services."
"My life insurance—how do you even know that?"
"I know everything about your finances, darling. How else would I manage your account?"
James sat down hard on the courtyard stones. "I'm nearly a million dollars in debt. To an archangel."
"Don't worry, you are not. I've already liquidated your cashable GICs and sold some of your more liquid securities. The treasury bills fetched a good price, and I made sure your maturing GICs didn't auto-renew. Miraculously, I managed to pay off all your current debt balance with the cash from liquidating your investments. You still have your real estate, of course—I wouldn't presume to sell your rental properties without permission. That would be terribly invasive."
"But draining my investment accounts isn't?"
"Those are liquid assets, James. They are meant to be drained for emergencies anyways. Oh, I should mention—you're now operating on the credit line I mentioned. Current balance is $73,000 at prime plus 0.5%. Very reasonable terms."
James looked up at the sky, wondering if other people had these problems. "You're a cosmic loan shark."
"I'm a responsible financial partner," Seraphina corrected primly. "And speaking of responsibility, today I taught you a valuable lesson on how to impress people."
"What am I supposed to do with that!"
"Use it and later initiate offering rituals. Any offerings made by your people to me will be converted to your world's currency at current market values and added to your account."
"You're telling me I can pay off celestial debt with medieval offerings?"
"Exactly! Now you're getting it. Though I should warn you—at current rates, you'll need significantly more than one miracle's worth. Fortunately, there's a war on. Plenty of opportunities for impressive divine intervention."
James watched Velika demonstrating her healed leg to a group of awestruck soldiers. Bisera had moved to embrace her friend, tears streaming down the general's face—not just from joy, but from the profound relief of seeing her closest companion whole again.
"So this was all about money?" James asked quietly. "The public display, the drama—just to generate offerings?"
"Oh, James." Seraphina's voice carried something almost like fondness. "You still don't understand, do you? Look around. What do you see?"
James looked. He saw soldiers standing taller, civilians smiling through tears, children chattering excitedly about the miracle they'd witnessed. Hope—tangible, visible hope—radiated from every face. The despair that had hung over Podem like a shroud since news of the coup had reached them was lifting, replaced by something far more powerful.
"Morale," he whispered.
"Precisely. Podem was wavering. The coup at the capital, the uncertainty about Emperor Simon's fate, the endless bad news from the borders—it was wearing them down. Now? Now they've seen heaven itself respond to their struggles. They'll fight twice as hard, endure twice as long. That hope is worth more than any offering."
"Then why the elaborate payment system?"
"Because, my dear, sweet, naive James—hope without cost is just wishful thinking. When people sacrifice for their miracles, they value them. When they see their offerings accepted, they feel heard. The cosmic economy isn't about enriching angels—it's about compliance with the law of fairness. When I help one side, I inevitably disadvantage another side. Hence, there is a requirement for supernatural interventions that even archangels need to abide by."
"That's... ."
"I do have my moments. Now, shall we discuss your financial planning going forward?"
"Seraphina?"
"Yes?"
"Are all angels this obsessed with accounting?"
"Oh no, dear. I'm considered quite relaxed about it. You should see Gabriel's spreadsheets. Absolutely tyrannical about proper documentation. Now, about proper offering rituals—"
But James had stopped listening, watching instead as Velika challenged a group of younger soldiers to a sparring match, her healed leg moving with perfect precision. The joy on her face, the amazement in the crowd, the renewed determination in Bisera's eyes—perhaps some things were worth any price.
Even if that price came with interest rates and payment plans from heaven itself.
"Oh!" Seraphina added, just as James thought the conversation was ending. "I should mention—"
"What now?"
"Did you really think all those ancient temples demanded sacrifices because the gods were hungry? All those burnt offerings to Zeus, or Ra, or Odin?" Her mental voice carried distinct amusement. "My dear James, cosmic accounting has been around far longer than you might imagine. We've simply modernized the process. Direct deposit is so much more efficient than burnt lamb."
James stared at the sky in disbelief. "You're telling me that all of mythology's demands for offerings were just... to meet compliance requirements?"
"Well, what did you think they were for? Snacks?"