Gathering of the Chosen

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Gathering of the Chosen Page 25

by Timothy L. Cerepaka


  Part of him should have expected that, considering how much tact Raya lacked. Still, he had no tolerance for that kind of disrespect from her. He didn't care that she was royalty. Here on World's End, in the Tournament of the Gods, she was just another godling to him, and not a particularly bright one, either.

  Of course, part of the reason Carmaz was so angry was that he was trying to avoid crying. He could feel the tears trying to well up in his eyes, but he didn't want to be overcome by his sadness. He had already cried over Saia's death a couple of days ago. Besides, he was used to tragedy. During his twenty-five years of life on this world, Carmaz had seen men get torn apart by crustaceans, watched young children die due to a lack of nutrition, often in the arms of their weeping mothers. He had thought that he had gotten used to tragedy, yet every time he thought about Saia's death … it almost overwhelmed him.

  Carmaz kicked a stone in his path, which bounced along the street before him. That was when he saw a crowd of katabans coming his way, a large crowd that made a lot of noise as the katabans in it chattered among each other. Not wanting to interact with other living beings at the moment, Carmaz stepped into a side alley and continued his wandering of the city in there.

  The streets are too clean, Carmaz thought, scowling as he looked at the back alley he had ended up in. I know that this is the Throne of the Gods and all, but it seems almost unnaturally clean. Wonder if the God of Cleanliness is behind this.

  But Carmaz didn't really care much about the gods. He cared about Saia. Saia had been his childhood friend. He had known him for as far back as he could remember. To just lose him like that … so fast, without a chance to say good bye … Carmaz was truly at a loss for how to deal with that.

  I can't handle the grief, Carmaz thought, wiping the tears that were starting to flow from his eyes. I should throw the upcoming challenge. Then Alira can send me back to Ruwa and I can tell everyone else there about Saia's death. There's no way I can compete in this sorrow. I'm not that strong.

  If only there was some way to bring Saia back …

  Carmaz stopped in the street and frowned. Where had that thought come from? He certainly didn't think it on his own. He looked around, but did not see anyone else in the alley with him.

  Resurrecting Saia is silly, Carmaz thought. He's dead. It's impossible to bring back the dead.

  “Braim would disagree, I would think,” said an unfamiliar voice above him that made Carmaz look up.

  Floating in the air above him was a pale-skinned, armored brute with a wispy, ghost-like tail. Carmaz's first thought was that it was another half-god, but then he recalled seeing a statue of this god near the apartment building where Raya was staying, though that didn't make him any happier to see the deity.

  “The Ghostly God,” said Carmaz, watching as the god floated down in front of him. “God of Ghosts and Mist.”

  “So you recognize me,” said the Ghostly God. “Am I really that famous now?”

  “No,” said Carmaz, shaking his head. “I don't think we've ever met.”

  “But you don't need to introduce yourself, Carmaz,” said the Ghostly God. He smiled and leaned forward, though Carmaz didn't move from his spot. “I know the names and faces of every single godling participating in the Tournament of the Gods. Including yours, though it's hardly one to remember. I have no idea what Raya sees in you.”

  “Neither do I,” said Carmaz. He tensed. “I don't trust the gods, especially you southern gods. Did Alira send you to get me?”

  “Neither Alira nor any of the other gods are even aware that we are alone together,” said the Ghostly God. “Alira is obsessed with the Tournament, as she always is, while my brothers and sisters are debating what to do should the Void attack again. I took the opportunity to slip out and find you while they talk uselessly about the future. No one noticed, since I have a habit of leaving boring conversations like that.”

  “Why did you want to find me?” said Carmaz. “I'm nothing special. I think you'd want Braim, considering how he is the guy who came back to life.”

  “Braim has proven very … uncooperative,” said the Ghostly God. He sounded frustrated about that. “He has not let me study him and the secrets of his resurrection. I know that if I got a chance to study him, it would only broaden our understanding of death and make us that much more powerful.”

  “I still don't see why you are talking with me about all of this,” said Carmaz. He sidestepped the Ghostly God and kept walking. “I don't want to talk with you or anyone else right now. Just leave me alone.”

  Carmaz got perhaps ten steps away from the Ghostly God before a cold hand rested on his shoulder. He looked over his shoulder and saw the Ghostly God behind him. He didn't like the disappointed look on the deity's face.

  “Get your hand off me, you—” said Carmaz.

  The Ghostly God removed his hand from Carmaz's shoulder and said, “You are just as childish as Raya, you know. Storming off when you're angry, not wanting to talk to anyone … actually, I think I am starting to understand why she likes you so much.”

  “Unlike Raya, I have an actual reason for my moodiness,” said Carmaz. He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “My best friend in the whole world just died a few days ago. Not that you'd understand. You gods don't have friends, do you?”

  “We gods do in fact form friendships among each other,” said the Ghostly God. He shrugged. “It's just that no one has ever formed a friendship with me. Not that I need friends, really. Friendship is overrated.”

  “So are you actually going to tell me why you are talking with me at all or are you just going to waste more of my time?” said Carmaz. “Because I know how much you southern gods hate talking with us mortals, so I can't imagine that this is pleasurable for you.”

  “You spoke of your best friend dying earlier,” the Ghostly God said. “Have you ever considered the possibility that we could bring him back?”

  Carmaz's hands shook, though he tried to keep his tone level. “I don't indulge in fantasies, Ghostly God. I focus on reality. And the reality is that Saia is dead and there's no way to bring him back.”

  The Ghostly God chuckled and then laughed. It was a mocking laugh, one that only made Carmaz's temper become even shorter. He wanted to strangle the Ghostly God with his bare hands, but because he couldn't, he just glared at the god until he stopped laughing, which took the Ghostly God a good few seconds to do.

  Still chuckling, the Ghostly God said, “You mortals truly are stupid. Have you already forgotten Braim Kotogs? The man who came back from the dead?”

  “He's an exception, not the rule,” said Carmaz. “He doesn't even understand how he came back to life, so it's not like he can give me some pointers to help bring Saia back.”

  “But what if we could find out how to bring Saia back?” said the Ghostly God. “If we could just study Braim's body and his soul, then we might be able to understand how he defied the natural laws and returned to life.”

  “Are you suggesting … an alliance?” said Carmaz.

  “A partnership,” said the Ghostly God. He shuddered. “The thought repulses me as much as it does you, but the two of us have similar goals, I feel. You want to bring back your dead friend and I want to learn how to bring back your dead friend. And do you know who might hold the answers to both questions?”

  Carmaz's hands stopped shaking as he thought over his answer. “Braim Kotogs.”

  “Exactly,” said the Ghostly God, nodding. “The only trouble is, of course, that he would never let me study his body long enough to figure out how to replicate the process he underwent to return to life. Do you know what that means?”

  Carmaz shook his head. “No, I don't.”

  “It means that I want to offer you a deal,” said the Ghostly God. He held out one large hand to Carmaz. “You help me capture Braim. In return, I will help you resurrect your friend Saia with whatever knowledge I learn from my study of Braim's body and soul. How does that sound?”

  Normally, Carmaz
would have told the Ghostly God to capture Braim himself, but then he thought about the offer a little bit more. Braim had indeed proven that it was possible for a human being to defy death and return to life, even thirty years after they had passed away. Saia had been dead only a few days by now. Resurrecting him should be a piece of cake.

  Besides, Carmaz didn't really like Braim that much. While Braim was more tolerable than Raya, Carmaz was still not close to the resurrected man and therefore would not feel guilty if he helped the Ghostly God to capture him.

  So Carmaz grasped the Ghostly God's cold, metallic hand and shook it. “It's a deal.”

  The Ghostly God smiled, showing his ugly crooked green teeth. “Excellent. I will send you your first orders later, but right now, let's go over the general plan so that you and I will be on the same page. I promise that you will not regret this.”

  ***

 

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