Chapter Ten
Upon returning to the Stadium, Braim and the others learned that Alira had decided to postpone the start of the Tournament's first challenge—which was in the Hollech Bracket, they learned—until the next day. The reasoning behind this decision was due to Raya's absence, especially when it was discovered that Raya was too traumatized by the assassin's attack to do anything. Still, Raya expected to recover and it was believed that she would be ready to participate in the Hollech Sub-Bracket challenge the next day.
As a result, the godlings were sent back to their rooms in the city, because it was now believed that the assassin, whoever he or she was, was after godlings in general, rather than Braim in particular. That both reassured and yet worried Braim. Reassured him because he now felt safer knowing that he was not being targeted in particular. Worried because that now meant that the others, including Carmaz and Raya, were at risk as well.
But the godlings were actually not totally segregated from each other anymore. For example, Braim learned that Raya had insisted that Carmaz stay in her apartment with her for her protection, which Carmaz had grudgingly agreed to, although several Soldiers were still placed outside the front door to keep them both safe. Saia had to go back to wherever he and Carmaz stayed and without protection. As far as Braim could tell, Saia's life was considered less important than Carmaz's, as his status as an ordinary mortal meant that it was unlikely that the assassin would come after him.
As for Braim, he was content to take a warm shower and take a nap, because all of that excitement and action had worn him out. Besides, there was that same creeping feeling of darkness following him again, which he tried his best to ignore, though he found that nearly impossible at this point.
It was only when Braim lay down on his bed, however, that he suddenly felt ravenously hungry. It was then that he also realized that he had actually been hungry all day, but had forgotten to pay attention to it because he was still getting used to the desire to eat. When he had been a ghost, after all, Braim had not needed any sort of food or sustenance to survive at all.
So Braim sat up and looked around his room for any food. Unfortunately, he saw nothing edible, so he decided to contact Mishak, the innkeeper, to have some food delivered up to his room when, without warning, a plate with a sandwich on it materialized in his lap.
The sudden appearance of the sandwich—which had some sort of meat between it that Braim didn't recognize—caused Braim to knock it off his lap onto the floor. The plate shattered upon crashing, while the sandwich's bread and meat scattered.
But nothing bad happened. No one attacked Braim or anything, though Braim hardly relaxed, because a sandwich magically materializing in his lap like that had set off his survival instincts. He would have blasted it with magic if he had been holding his wand at the time.
“Why did you throw the sandwich onto the floor?” said a voice above him that caused him to look up. “I thought you mortals liked sandwiches.”
A familiar, pale face appeared near the ceiling, followed by an even more familiar armored body with a ghostly tail. The Ghostly God looked down at Braim with a genuinely confused expression on his face.
“Wait,” said Braim. He pointed at the sandwich on the floor that lay amid the broken plate. “You made that for me?”
“Yes,” said the Ghostly God. “I confess that I've never done it before, but if you mortals can do it, then I can as well, and better, because I am a god.”
“You're joking, right?” said Braim.
“Of course I'm not,” said the Ghostly God. “Why would I be joking? I was merely trying to help you meet one of your needs. That you threw my plate off your lap, however, shows just how little respect you hold for me.”
Braim rubbed the back of his head. “It's not that I disrespect you, per se. It's that I've kind of been in danger of being killed by some four-armed freak over the last month or so and so I'm kind of on edge all the time. You could have at least warned me ahead of time what you were planning to do.”
The Ghostly God folded his arms across his chest. “Very well. I guess I … probably should have told you about it before I gave you the sandwich. It was … not the wisest move I could have made.”
Braim was under the impression that the Ghostly God was doing everything within his power to avoid saying 'I made a mistake.' Not that that shocked Braim, seeing as the gods in general rarely ever admitted to their mistakes, even on minor issues such as this.
As a result, Braim did not expect to get an honest admission of error from the Ghostly God, so he changed the subject. “Why'd you give me a sandwich anyway? I didn't ask for it.”
“I was merely trying to meet one of your needs, as I stated before,” said the Ghostly God. “While I generally dislike serving mortals, you are a godling, which makes you a little bit more important than other mortals. One day, you will be one of us. In fact, you might even rule over us. So why shouldn't I treat you perhaps a bit more kindly than how I normally treat mortals?”
“Did you deliver sandwiches to the other godlings?” asked Braim.
“Of course not,” said the Ghostly God. “What do I look like, a sandwich maker? They can do that on their own if they get hungry. I am not responsible for meeting their every want and need, like some kind of katabans.”
The Ghostly God said the word katabans the same way that Raya would say peasant.
“Uh huh,” said Braim. “Let me guess: The real reason you tried to feed me is because you needed an excuse to study me more, right?”
The Ghostly God looked even more offended than before. “Why would I ever do that?”
“Because I know that you've been trying to study me for as long as I've been alive again,” said Braim. “You want to figure out how I came back to life and how you can use that knowledge to your advantage. Right?”
Braim expected the Ghostly God to deny it, but to his relief, the Ghostly God nodded and said, “Very well. I can tell that no amount of deception on my part will convince you otherwise. Yes, indeed, that is what I came here to do.”
“Sorry, but I can't help you there,” said Braim, lying back in bed with his hands behind his head. “I know about as much as anyone else about how I managed to come back to life. All I remember is stabbing Uron in the Spirit Lands and then waking up naked in the graveyard outside North Academy. Weird way to come back to life, but there it is.”
“That is because you are a mortal who doesn't even remember what your first life was,” said the Ghostly God. “But I, with my centuries of experience and study of ghosts and the dead, might be able to understand better how you came back, if you gave me a chance to study you.”
“Nah,” said Braim. “I'm not interested in becoming your experiment, sorry. While I'm for the advancement of magic and all that, I'd rather do it with my freedom intact.”
“Whoever said anything about denying you your freedom?” said the Ghostly God. “You can still be free, you know, even if you let me study you.”
“Right,” said Braim. “Are you going to trick me into becoming your servant for ten years, like you did to Darek?”
“I didn't trick Darek into doing anything,” said the Ghostly God. “He was the one who came to me with that offer, not the other way around. Is he trying to play the victim again?”
“The point is, I don't really want to be associated with you,” said Braim. “Or any of the other gods, for that matter. Hell, I don't even want to win the Tournament.”
“Then what do you want to do?” said the Ghostly God. “Drift around the world aimlessly?”
Braim shrugged. “Dunno. Haven't figured it out yet. I just came back to life, after all. I thought I'd go back to doing what I was doing in my first life—being a student at North Academy and next in line to become the Magical Superior, or so I've been told—but even that doesn't interest me anymore.”
“Would you like to be free of the darkness that creeps up on you when you least expect it?” asked the Ghostly God. “The dar
kness that has made it almost impossible for you to sleep?”
Braim looked at the Ghostly God suddenly. “How did you know about that? I haven't told anyone about that, not even Darek or Jenur.”
“Because you mortals are not as good at hiding your secrets from us gods as you like to think you are,” said the Ghostly God. “I have seen your thoughts in which you worry about this darkness that follows you wherever you go.”
“So what?” said Braim, trying to hide his feelings of unease with an indifferent tone. “Maybe it's depression or something. It's probably nothing serious.”
“Oh, but I think it is,” said the Ghostly God. “It is serious enough that you would like someone to get rid of it for you.”
“And if I do?” said Braim. He looked at the Ghostly God hard. “Are you going to get rid of it?”
“No,” said the Ghostly God, shaking his head. “Or rather, I can't, seeing as I have no idea what it may be and how to get rid of it. But I do have a theory about your body that may help shed some light on the subject.”
Despite himself, Braim said, “Shoot. I'm listening.”
“All right,” said the Ghostly God. He sounded like he had been waiting to share this theory with someone for a long time. “I believe that the darkness lingering in your body is from Uron's possession of it. Uron was one of the Almighty Ones, remember, which makes him far more powerful than even us gods. Although Uron no longer exists as an entity independent of the universe, I would be severely surprised to find out that his possession of your corpse did not leave at least some lasting scars that will take either years to heal or will never heal at all.”
“So you think there might still be a little bit of Uron left in me?” said Braim with a gulp.
“Not exactly,” said the Ghostly God. “Consider a forest fire that has recently been put out. While the flames that once burned the forest may no longer be causing any active damage, the fire has left behind ash and smoke and burnt wood in its wake. It will undoubtedly take years before the forest will grow again to its original strength. Uron is that fire and your body is the forest.”
Braim frowned. “But forest fires can start again. Does that mean that I am in danger of being possessed by Uron again?”
“Of course not,” said the Ghostly God. “By all accounts, Uron has been utterly destroyed. There is no chance at all that he will ever return, much less to possess your body. You are taking the analogy too far. Typical human behavior.”
“Hey, bud, you were the one who said my body is a forest, not me,” said Braim. “So what do you think that all means, then?”
“I have absolutely no clue,” said the Ghostly God. “It might mean nothing. Perhaps you will simply go on to live a normal mortal life and then die of old age later on. Or maybe it will have a lasting effect on your personality that will leave you utterly changed. You're unique, so no one knows for sure.”
“If it changes me, will it be in a good way or a bad way?” asked Braim.
“Again, I do not know,” said the Ghostly God. “That is why I wish to study you. I don't even know if you can actually die. Your resurrection might have granted you immortality for all I know.”
“Immortality, huh?” said Braim. “Well, I guess that's plenty of time to figure out exactly what is wrong with me. Without your help.”
“But why reject the aid of someone as experienced and knowledgeable on the subject as I am?” said the Ghostly God. He made a sound of disgust. “Wait, don't answer. I know how you humans think, behaving as if you know better than us gods. You are all the same.”
Braim shrugged. “Whatever. Anyway, do you know anything about that assassin that tried to kill me? You know, the guy who just tried to murder Raya and Carmaz about an hour ago?”
“No,” said the Ghostly God. “We have been working alongside the Soldiers of the Gods to find out who he is, but so far they have not found any evidence to point towards the assassin's identity or the identity of his employer.”
“Is it one of you guys?” said Braim. “Because if he's a katabans, then that means he's working for one of you, right?”
“You are assuming that that is what he is even when you have no proof to justify that belief,” said the Ghostly God. “More typical human behavior. But no, the evidence doesn't suggest that our assassin is a katabans at all.”
“Well, he's clearly not human or aquarian, either,” said Braim. “And I kind of doubt he's a god. Otherwise, we'd all be dead by now. That still doesn't explain what he is, though.”
“The answers, I am sure, will come in time,” said the Ghostly God. “Both the gods and the Soldiers are working hard to discover who he is. It is shameful that this assassin has struck twice on World's End and has yet to be caught.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” said Braim. “Thought that World's End was supposed to be the safest island in the world, because it's also the home of the gods and everything.”
“It is still quite safe in comparison to other islands,” said the Ghostly God. “In any case, it is only a matter of time before the assassin is found, caught, and exposed. I know that Grinf in particular has been searching for him everywhere. He cannot stand the idea of a criminal running loose on World's End. It isn't 'just,' as he put it.”
“I think we'd all sleep a little safer if that guy was behind bars,” said Braim. “But one thing I noticed about him was how he bled gold blood when Tashir and Malya attacked him. You gods bleed gold blood, right?”
“Typically, yes,” said the Ghostly God.
“But our assassin is clearly not a god,” said Braim. “So what's up with that?”
The Ghostly God opened his mouth to answer, but then a sudden realization came over his features. He closed his mouth and tapped his chin, like his brain was putting together all of the pieces of the puzzle.
“No, that can't be,” the Ghostly God was rapidly muttering under his breath. “But yes, it seems logical and certainly fits all of the evidence. But that only opens up more questions, though they may be far easier to answer than this one was.”
Braim raised an eyebrow. “Ghostly God? What are you muttering about?”
“You will find out in time, assuming my theory is correct,” said the Ghostly God. “For now, I must contact my fellow gods and share with them my theory. If it is correct, we should have an idea of what we are up against. If it is not, then you do not need to know it and thus fill your mind with more wrong information that will not help you survive if the assassin comes after you again.”
With that, the Ghostly God vanished as suddenly as he came, leaving Braim all alone in his room. While Braim was glad that the Ghostly God was gone, his stomach grumbled again, causing him to look at the sandwich on the floor sadly.
“He could have at least gotten me a new sandwich before he left,” said Braim under his breath.
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Gathering of the Chosen Page 10