Gathering of the Chosen (13 page)

Braim shook his head. He was already
pretty late as it was. He had slept-in this morning—despite knowing
that today was the first day of the Tournament—and was certain that
he was the last godling to arrive, because he had not run into any
other humans or aquarians on his way to the Stadium. He had,
however, literally run into a rather large, menacing-looking
katabans who had threatened to rip out his spine and beat him with
it before the katabans realized who Braim was and let him go with
his spine intact.

Braim had no idea if there were any
consequences for arriving late, though he bet there were. Alira had
struck him as a very disciplined, by-the-book kind of woman. She
probably did not tolerate tardiness or lateness for any reason.
Even if the entire city had been burning down, Alira would likely
not have accepted that as a valid excuse for not being on time.

Then again, there was a reason that Braim
had woken up later than usual. Ever since his first night on
World's End, after that katabans assassin had tried to kill him,
Braim had found it almost impossible to sleep through the night
anymore. Anytime he heard anything—the scurrying of the mouse, the
fluttering of a bird outside his window—his eyes would snap awake
and he'd prepare to shoot a spell, only to realize that he was
completely alone in his room. Even so, Braim had come to sleep with
his wand under his pillow at night, with one hand firmly grasping
it at all times. He had cast a few spells to protect his room, but
he was not much of a teichomancer and believed that any determined
assassin could break in with only a little effort.

As for the identity of the assassin, that
was still a mystery to Braim. Jenur, as the Magical Superior, had
gone to the gods and informed them of the assassin's attack on
Braim, but the gods all claimed ignorance about the attacker and
his identity and the identity of his employer.

Nonetheless, the gods had assigned a group
of katabans known as the Soldiers of the Gods with the task of
locating and arresting the assassin. The Soldiers of the Gods were
supposedly some of the best trackers in the world, yet to Braim's
knowledge, they had not found even one hint as to the current
location or identity of the assassin.

Darek and Jenur had both wanted to stay on
World's End to help protect Braim, but the gods had insisted that
the two go home because they were not supposed to participate in
the Tournament and were not needed here. Besides, the two of them
had their own responsibilities anyway and thus could not stay away
from their important jobs for very long.

But Braim had kept in contact with both of
them, sending them gray ghosts every day to let them know how he
was doing. Even so, Braim didn't feel safe about being on World's
End by himself and so he went to bed each night figuring that he'd
wake up in bed with all eight of the assassin's blades in his
chest.

Maybe I shouldn't worry as much,
Braim thought, shaking his head.
The assassin hasn't even been
seen since the night he tried to kill me. He's probably given up.
Anyway, I should head into the Stadium now. Hopefully Alira won't
be too angry at me for being late like this.

So Braim walked across the street to the
massive Stadium doors. He was just about to push them open and
enter the building when he heard someone behind him shout, “Wait
for us!”

Pausing, Braim looked over his shoulder
and saw two young men—both maybe a few years older than Princess
Raya, at most—running toward him as fast as they could. Their
curly, dark hair and pale skin immediately pegged them as Ruwans,
although he could tell that they were not brothers or related in
any way. Both wore identical silk tunics, although the taller one
wore a green tunic and the shorter one wore a blue tunic. Both
tunics had built-in hoods on the back, just like Braim's did.

The two skid to a halt before Braim,
panting as if they had just run a mile (and depending on how far
they had run, they very well might have run such a length in order
to get here). Braim had never seen either of them before, so he had
no idea who they were, though he guessed that they were both
godlings like himself.

“Looks like I'm not the only one who is
going to be late after all,” said Braim, smiling at the two younger
godlings. “Slept-in?”

“Even worse,” said the shorter of the two,
wiping the sweat off his forehead as he thrust a thumb over his
shoulder. “Stupid katabans innkeeper who can't speak Divina tried
to get money out of us, even though Tinkar
told
him that the
gods are the ones paying our tab. Idiot tried to swindle us.”

“Yeah, the katabans in this city aren't
exactly the most trustworthy, especially the ones who run their own
businesses,” said Braim. “Anyway, I don't think we've met before.
What are your names?”

“Carmaz Korva,” said the taller one. He
nodded at his friend. “And he is Saia Qurea. We're from Ruwa. Ever
heard of it?”

“Yeah,” said Braim, nodding. “I actually
know someone who grew up on Ruwa. Or, well, I used to know her and
only got to know her again recently.”

“Oh,” said Said. “So you went on a long
trip or something without communicating with her for a while and
only just returned recently?”

Braim cracked a smile. “Something like
that.”

“Now that we've introduced ourselves, who
are you?” said Carmaz. He glanced at Braim's wand, which was in the
wand holster tied to his waist. “A mage?”

Braim noted a surprising bitterness in
Carmaz's words when he said that, even though Braim had done
nothing to annoy or anger him. He figured that Carmaz was probably
not very fond of mages for some reason.

“Yep,” said Braim, nodding. “I'm from
North Academy. Ever heard of it?”

“Of course,” said Saia. “It's the most
famous magical school in the world. Are you a student there?”

Braim thought about it, shrugged, and
said, with a smile, “It's complicated.”

“Okay,” said Carmaz. Then he started and
looked at the Stadium. “Almost forgot. We have to enter the
Stadium. They're probably starting without us.”

Braim—relieved that he wouldn't have to
tell them his name (as he suspected they knew it, seeing as
everyone seemed to know it nowadays, even people he had never met
before)—nodded and opened the door. He stepped inside, but held the
door open for Carmaz and Saia. Once they entered, he closed the
door and looked around at their surroundings.

He, Carmaz, and Saia had stepped into the
lobby of the Stadium, which was rather wide-open and had lots of
standing room. At the end of the lobby were five large steel doors,
each one emblazoned with the symbol of the five gods that had been
killed, though they were currently closed.

Much to Braim's surprise, however, the
lobby was full of people, who were undoubtedly the other
ninety-seven godlings. Most of them were human, but there were a
fair few aquarians as well, and all of the godlings were talking
amongst each other, introducing themselves, speculating about what
challenges they would have to undertake, what brackets they would
go into, and so on. None of them seemed to notice Braim, Carmaz,
and Saia enter, which was fine by Braim, as he was not in the mood
to talk to a bunch of strangers about his resurrection.

Even so, just seeing those people caused
that dark feeling to creep up his spine again. Braim tried to
ignore it, but as always, that feeling sneaked up on him wherever
he went. It always became worse when he was with other people or
was trying to sleep at night, which explained why it had come back
here all of a sudden.

Then Braim heard a familiar shrill voice
say, “Hello, Braim!” and a young Carnagian woman, wearing a
practical black tunic with the hood down, stepped out of the crowd
of godlings. Her hair was in a simpler style, like a ponytail, but
she still somehow managed to make herself look fabulous.

Princess Raya walked up to Braim, Carmaz,
and Saia with a rather arrogant step, as if they were her peasants
that she was graciously allowing in her court. Braim noted how
Saia's eyes ran up and down her body, though he didn't dwell on
that because the darkness was still trying to cloud his mind.

“Hey, Raya,” said Braim, waving at her as
she approached. “Haven't seen you in a while. You look
different.”

Raya threw back her hair. “Well, of course
I do. I am dressed for success. If I am going to become the Goddess
of Martir, then I need to be dressed to take on whatever challenges
Alira presents to me. Not that it will be terribly difficult for
me, of course, because I
know
that it is my destiny to
win.”

“You sure seem confident, silver spoon,”
Carmaz said, causing Raya to look at him (unlike Saia, Carmaz was
looking at her face with dislike), “despite the fact that no one
here even knows what the challenges in the Tournament will be. Tell
me, are you just bragging or do you know something we don't?”

“How do you know I'm a princess?” said
Raya in surprise. “I don't recall ever introducing myself to
someone as uncouth as you.”

“You're an actual princess?” said Carmaz.
He looked at Braim worryingly. “Is she telling the truth or pulling
my leg?”

“She's telling the truth,” said Braim. He
gestured at Raya. “Beautiful here is Princess Raya, the Princess of
Carnag.”

“The one and only,” said Raya. She then
put her hands on her hips. “But how could you
not
have heard
of me? Everyone in the Northern Isles, even those who don't live on
Carnag or Shika, knows my name, if not my appearance.”

“We're from Ruwa,” said Carmaz. “The only
royalty we know of has been dead for at least five hundred years,
the rumors of the ghosts in Castle Ruwa notwithstanding. Afraid we
don't keep track of international politics very closely.”

“Ruwa?” Raya repeated. “I have never heard
of the place. Is it some backwards island somewhere in the
west?”

“Friana Archipelago, actually,” said
Carmaz, whose tolerance for Raya's rudeness, Braim could see, was
growing thinner and thinner every second. “Ever been there?”

“Oh, I visited Friana once on holiday,”
said Raya with a bright smile. “Absolutely beautiful weather and
geography. Loved the Crystal Mines, though the food was awful and
the people ranged from mediocre to rude.”

“Gee, I wonder what it's like to talk with
a rude person,” said Carmaz dryly.

“It's awful, I tell you, just awful,” said
Raya, shaking her head. “And I am royalty. I just can't imagine how
they would have treated me if I was a peasant.”

“Probably worse,” said Carmaz.

“Indeed,” said Raya, “although I've always
wondered what it would be like to live life as a peasant. I've
sometimes considered putting on some of my rattier clothes and
going among the people of Carnag without telling anyone my name,
but I think I'd be instantly recognizable no matter what I wore or
how I styled my hair.”

“I think your attitude and word choice
would give you away more than your face,” said Carmaz. “It is very
… distinctive.”

Raya, as usual, didn't seem to notice
Carmaz's implications. “Yes, yes, I agree that I am very unique.
Father always tells me that there is no girl like me in the whole
world. Even among the princesses of other nations, I am unique.
After all, I have learned that I am the only member of royalty
among the godlings, aside from that aquarian man named Foroz, who
claims to be a descendent of some ancient aquarian king from the
Primordia Era or something like that.”

“I suppose that does make you … unique,”
said Carmaz. He looked at Saia. “Right, Saia?”

Saia blinked several times and then looked
at Carmaz suddenly, like a dozing student suddenly called on by the
teacher to answer a question during a lesson that he had paid no
attention to. “What? Yes, I agree that Raya does have a very unique
body.”

Carmaz elbowed Saia in the side, causing
Saia to say, “I mean, yes, Raya is a unique woman, which includes
her body, because the body and mind are one whole that can't be
separated from each other.”

“Yes indeed,” said Raya, folding her arms
across her chest with a smug smile on her face. “But I don't
believe you two have introduced yourselves to me yet. What are your
names?”

“I'm Carmaz and I am what you would call a
'godling,' I suppose,” said Carmaz. “And this is Saia, my friend.
He's not a godling, but the gods allowed him to come and support me
while I'm participating in the Tournament.”

“What?” said Raya, looking at Saia in
shock. “The gods sent my parents away and told me I couldn't bring
any of my servants to stay with me here. I've had to learn to fend
for myself without my servants to dress and feed me. It's been so
horrible, and yet they've allowed a commoner like you to bring a
friend along who isn't even a godling?”

“Sounds like you have had such a
tough
life, silver spoon,” said Carmaz. He had completely
dropped all pretense of politeness now. “Having to dress and feed
yourself
. However did you survive a month on your own? I
can't imagine what that must have been like.”

“It was the toughest month of my life,”
said Raya. She sniffled. “Fortunately, the gods provided me with a
katabans servant to attend to some of my needs, but he was so rude
and didn't serve me nearly as well as my servants back in Carnag
Hall. But I believe that this month on my own has only reinforced
my belief that I would make an excellent Goddess of Martir. If I
can survive this, then ruling the world should be no problem for me
whatsoever.”

Carmaz looked like he was at a loss for
words now. Saia, on the other hand, was nodding along, but it was
pretty clear, based on the position of his eyes in relation to
Raya's body, that he wasn't actually listening to a word that Raya
said.