"My king, this is..."
"A little something I had Dunbelly make. Try it and see how it feels."
Femi looked down at the prosthetic arm, took it, and fitted it snugly over the stump of his arm.
"The prosthetic has two sets of Runes, one for control and one for energy storage. Dunbelly said it has about half the strength of an ordinary person's arm. It might take some getting used to at first—"
Before Annan could finish, the prosthetic's joints began to move. Its five fingers flexed one after another.
"Looks like you've already got the hang of it," Annan said with a pleased smile.
He'd expected Femi to be overjoyed, or perhaps to stand there red-eyed and silent.
He hadn't expected Femi to drop to one knee before him and swear, "Great King of Free City, Annan Reeves, I pledge my life to you, down to my last drop of blood. And if my soul can still fight, I will fight for you until it ceases to exist!"
Thud—thud—
Two more people dropped to their knees outside the door.
Annan froze, then laughed. "Who keeps fighting after they're dead? If you really do become a Heroic Spirit someday, come back and protect Free City's next generation."
He understood Femi's excitement. Femi had only just reached his prime, with a whole life ahead of him, and had been forced to face the prospect of being useless.
Annan went on, "This is the first prosthetic, so it's not perfect yet. If you have any suggestions while using it, tell Dunbelly so he can improve it. In time, he might even make one that works like a real arm—or one a Professional could use."
"Yes, my king."
"Get back to work. And you two, get up. No kneeling—"
Annan didn't stay