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Gathering of the Chosen

Page 26

by Timothy L. Cerepaka


  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Braim Kotogs lay on his bed in his room in the inn he had been staying at for over a month now. Even though he had gotten much-needed sleep over the last couple of days, he still felt exhausted. He supposed it was due to Diog draining his life energy, but Braim was puzzled about why his body had not simply used the life energy he had stolen from Diog to replace what he had lost.

  Maybe it's another one of those weird aspects of resurrection, Braim thought with a yawn. Can't retain life energy as well as I normally do. Hopefully it won't have any long-lasting effects.

  Then Braim saw movement just outside his window. He started, sitting up and aiming his newly-repaired wand at the window, before he realized that it was just an unusually-tall katabans passing by and making the light look strange.

  Guess it was nothing, Braim thought, lowering his wand. Just glad it wasn't Ragao.

  Braim was not exactly sure what had happened to Ragao after he succeeded in talking the Void out of destroying World's End. All he knew was that the gods had taken her, but whether they were going to destroy her or not, he couldn't say. He doubted they'd let her live, considering how the gods treated other half-gods. He actually hoped that they'd kill her. After all of the trouble that she had caused him and the other godlings, Braim was pretty much convinced that Martir would be better without entities like her messing it up.

  Thinking about Ragao inevitably turned Braim's thoughts to Diog. After the Void left, Braim had told Alira and the gods about Diog's plan to kill him. He had been told that they were going to bring Diog to the Hall of Justice—apparently a building on World's End where criminals on the island were tried for their crimes—where he would be tried for his crimes. Braim wasn't sure exactly what they could do to Diog, considering he was a god and all, but it now seemed unlikely that Diog was going to harm Braim again anytime soon.

  But what if the gods take Diog's side? Braim thought. It was a thought that had entered his head many times over the last couple of days, not helped by the fact that he knew how much the gods generally favored each other over mortals. If Diog manages to convince them that my mere existence is a threat to Martir in general, there's no telling what they'll do to me.

  That was yet another thing that Braim had worried about. He knew now that the main reason that the Void had successfully managed to enter Martir and almost kill everyone was because of his resurrection. He wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with it, but it was plainly obvious to him now that Diog was correct about Braim's resurrection having negative effects on Martir.

  So far, none of the other gods had mentioned to Braim about doing something to him. It was possible, even, that they wouldn't harm him at all, seeing as he was a godling who was supposed to enter the Tournament of the Gods. As far as he knew, he and the other godlings were safe from the gods right now. Alira, at least, would keep Braim safe until he either won or lost the Skimif Bracket. He remembered how angry she had looked when he had told her about Diog kidnapping him. She seemed to take Diog's attempts to sabotage the Tournament as a personal offense.

  Can't see them leaving me alone for much longer, though, Braim thought as he lay back down on his bed. They're still angry at Diog for almost killing me, but once the anger fades and they can all think more clearly, then they'll probably listen to him and do something about me.

  Braim closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he found it impossible under the current circumstances. He had thought that getting rid of Ragao and the Void would take his mind off things, but now that he had to worry about the gods listening to Diog and doing something about him, he found it hard to relax.

  And there's still that darkness in the back of my mind that is still annoying me, Braim thought. Almost forgot about that.

  Deciding that he wasn't going to be getting any sleep tonight, Braim sat up again, threw off his covers, and stood up. He thought about where he could go tonight, but even the idea of going anywhere was enough to tire him out, though not enough to make him go back to bed.

  Indecision, Braim thought. Nice. Like the gods.

  Braim shook his head. The gods weren't indecisive. Well, he supposed they could be sometimes. It was mostly that they were divided on most subjects that it made it impossible for them to do much of anything. He saw why the Powers went ahead and sent Alira to organize the Tournament, rather than relying on one of the gods to do it. As an impartial third party, she was the only one who could do this without getting mired in the petty politics of the gods.

  And I am going to rule them, if I win the Tournament, Braim thought. Still have a hard time wrapping my head around that one.

  Perhaps that was another reason why Braim felt so uneasy. Deep down inside, he wasn't sure he was ready for the position of God of Martir, or if he would ever be ready.

  All this stress, but can't sleep it off, Braim thought. Fantastic.

  Shaking his head, Braim began pulling on his clothes, getting ready to go and walk around the city tonight. He had no idea what the morning would bring, no idea at all. And he decided that he did not need to know, at least for now.

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