Gathering of the Chosen (2 page)

But Braim had read between the lines of
that message. He knew that the gods were interested in him, even
more so than they were in Jenur or Darek. And the reason why was as
plain as the sun: Braim was the first ever human to return from the
dead. He wasn't just a reanimated corpse, but a true blue,
flesh-and-blood living human being. His heart beat, his lungs
needed air, and he could tell when his shoes were too tight on his
feet. It was the only thing about Braim that was special or unique,
and the only thing that would make him stand out to the gods in
general.

As for why Darek and Jenur had been
invited, that was easy. Darek had helped save the whole world from
the villainous Uron, an evil spirit that had used Braim's own body
for a while to commit great evil, so the gods respected Darek a
great deal, even considered him a hero to an extent. And Jenur was
the Magical Superior of North Academy, a position which gave her a
unique link to the gods and which was respected by the gods in
general.

Despite that, however, none of them knew
what the 'momentous event' mentioned in the original invite was
supposed to be. Darek had spent the last week or so running down a
list of possible events, ranging from a simple thank you ceremony
from the gods for what they did to save the world from Uron all the
way to an ascension ceremony in which one of them would rise to
godhood as a reward for their efforts.

The Powers know that we could use new
gods, though,
Braim thought grimly as he followed Darek and
Jenur around a corner.
Or at least I think they do,
anyway.

During the conflict with Uron, five gods
had been killed by that monster, including Skimif, the God of
Martir himself. Aside from Skimif, none of the other gods had been
particularly prominent or important. The Northern and Southern
Pantheons of Martir, however, had existed in a very fragile balance
for a long time. With both the death of Skimif and the deaths of
members of both Pantheons, Braim was surprised that another Godly
War had not started yet.

Not that I'm complaining, of
course,
Braim thought.
Uron already did a number on the
world. We don't need a divine conflict among the gods to make
things even worse than they already are.

Braim found his thoughts becoming too
depressing for his tastes, so he said aloud, “Hey, Darek, how much
longer 'til we get to the Temple? My feet are killing me.”

“Not much longer now, I think,” said Darek
as they went up a small slope. He held a map of the city before
him, which he had received yesterday from Hashan before the
katabans ran off. “According to this map, we should be arriving at
the center of the city, where the Temple is, any minute now.”

“Good,” said Braim. “Say, have either of
you two ever been to the Temple of the Gods before? I've heard
about it, but have never actually visited it.”

“I have,” said Jenur, glancing over her
shoulder at Braim, although he noticed that it wasn't with a smile
on her face. “Years ago, before I even met you. I went on a voyage
to the southern seas with King Malock, King of Carnag, on a trip to
this very island, though that was before he became King.”

“You did?” said Braim. “What happened when
you got here?”

Braim knew that he had asked the wrong
question the moment those words left his mouth, because the stony
silence from Jenur radiated from her like the heat from the sun
above. What made Jenur's silence worse was that Braim had no idea
what the matter was, as it seemed like an entirely innocuous
question to him. And based on how puzzled Darek looked, Braim could
not rely on him for help in this matter, either.

Finally, Jenur said, “Let's not talk about
it. That was a lifetime ago, literally in your case. Let's instead
focus on the reason why the gods invited us here. We have all had
enough tragedy in the last several months. You don't need to be
burdened with the tragedies of the past, too.”

Braim was none too sure about that, but he
remembered enough about basic social etiquette not to push the
point. Besides, he decided that it wasn't really relevant to their
current situation.

“But I must say,” said Jenur, frowning as
the slope evened out, “World's End seems very different from how I
remember it. Of course, I am getting older and my memory isn't what
it used to be, but I don't remember having to go up a slope
before.”

“Well, World's End was attacked by Uron
when he was here,” said Darek. “Remember? He led an entire army of
half-gods to destroy the place. No doubt they've had to make a lot
of repairs on it, which is probably why it looks so different.”

“That is true,” said Jenur. “But they must
have had access to the original blueprints, because despite the
differences, the city still seems familiar to me. It is both
familiar and foreign, I guess, is how you'd put it.”

“Familiar and foreign,” Braim repeated.
“Same here. Except it's just foreign to me, like everything else
I've seen since coming back to life.”

“I wonder if we'll get to stay here any
longer after the big announcement,” said Darek, excitement in his
voice. He looked around at the large skyscrapers like they
contained the deepest secrets of magic behind them. “I mean, think
about it. This is the Throne of the Gods itself. We could learn so
much about magic and the gods here and bring back so much knowledge
with us to improve our teachings. We could advance our magical
knowledge by a century at least.”

Braim rolled his eyes. While he liked
Darek well enough, he thought that the guy was a bit of a dork
sometimes, always going on about the minutiae of magic and the gods
anytime anyone gave him a chance. Braim didn't have a lot of
interest in that stuff, despite being a mage, but then, he had
found that he had interest in very few things, ever since returning
from the dead. Most of his days felt quite aimless, because he
barely remembered anything about his past life and his past
interests, not helped by the fact that North Academy had little
records about him and his original life in general.

“I just want to go home as soon as it's
finished,” said Braim. He leaned in closer to Darek and Jenur as
they walked and whispered, “I don't think the katabans like me very
much.”

“Katabans don't like humans in general,”
said Jenur. “I wouldn't take it personally. In my younger years, I
knew a katabans who I did not get along very well with, due to the
fact that she tried to feed me to her goddess once.”

“You don't think that's what the gods have
summoned
us
for, do you?” said Braim with a gulp. “Because I
just got back from the dead and I really don't want to go back to
the Spirit Lands any time soon.”

“I doubt it,” said Jenur. “After all, only
the southern gods eat humans. If they tried to eat us, the northern
gods would probably put a stop to them.”

“Yeah, but aren't we beyond the Dividing
Line?” asked Braim. “Doesn't that mean the southern gods can eat
us, if they want?”

“Don't worry about it,” said Jenur,
patting him on the shoulder. “The southern gods are not very
subtle, so it is unlikely that this is an elaborate trap set to
kill us. It's not worth worrying about.”

“If you say so,” said Braim.

The party of three rounded one final
street corner and ended up in a wide-open plaza that took Braim by
surprise for a moment. It was probably the abrupt change from the
narrow streets to the wide-open plaza that had taken him by
surprise, especially when he saw the huge building in the center of
the plaza.

It was a massive temple. Not as massive as
the skyscrapers of ruby and emerald that towered around them,
perhaps, but so large that it made the Arcanium of North Academy
look like a rundown shack in comparison. A shallow moat, full of
water so clear that it looked like shiny air reflecting the rays of
the sun, surrounded it, with more water pouring from the channels
along the sides of the building. A tiny bridge of gold crossed over
the shallow moat to the marble and pearl gates, reflecting the rays
of the sun from above.

Not only that, but the building had dozens
of turrets arranged along the top, such as one that resembled a
lightning bolt and another that resembled a raging fire. A massive
glass dome rose from the midst of the turrets and towers, while the
building itself radiated the energy of all of the gods of Martir.
It was almost too much for Braim to handle.

“Wow,” said Darek. “It looks even more
amazing than I thought it would. Does it look like how you remember
it, Mom?”

Jenur nodded, her eyes fixed firmly on the
beautiful Temple standing before them. “Yes. It looks almost
exactly the same as I remember it.”

But Jenur didn't sound happy when she said
that. There was an unmistakable tinge of sadness in her voice and
she looked at the Temple the same way that a person might look at
the grave of a deceased one. She even looked older, as if the mere
presence of the Temple was enough to age her considerably.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said
Braim, causing Darek and Jenur to look at him in surprise. “That's
where the gods said the big announcement is supposed to take place,
right? Let's head on in, then. Don't want to be late.”

They crossed the plaza and the tiny bridge
over to the massive gates of the Temple itself. Braim was at first
confused about how they were supposed to open the large gates
before the gates opened inwards on their own without warning,
allowing the three of them to pass through without delay.

The lobby of the Temple was immense,
almost as wide-open as the plaza was. Huge marble columns supported
the ceiling, while thousands of stone statues of the gods—similar
to the ones in the Magical Superior's study on World's End—stood on
pedestals everywhere, although there was a clear red-carpeted path
from the front door to the end of the lobby.

But as Braim, Darek, and Jenur entered,
Braim immediately noticed that they were not alone. Standing about
halfway between the front door and the doors at the end of the room
were five people who were probably not katabans or gods, standing
together in a group chatting among themselves idly.

Two of the five people he recognized
immediately: Archmage Yorak, an aquarian mage with a whale-like
head, who was also the headmistress of the Undersea Institute, the
best magical school in the Undersea, and her pupil and student,
Auratus, another aquarian mage whose head resembled a goldfish's
head. He had met the two shortly after his revival, as they had
been helping defend North Academy from Uron at the time, but he
hadn't gotten to speak with either of them long, as they had left
for the Undersea Institute shortly afterward.

As for the other three, Braim did not
recognize them at all. One was an old, almost elderly, dark-skinned
man with piercing gold eyes, leaning on a fancy black cane with the
head of a golden hammer for its tip. Braim pegged the man's race as
Carnagian based on his dark skin and light hair. Not just
Carnagian, but Carnagian royalty, because he wore fancy red robes
with the symbol of Grinf, the God of Justice, Fire, and Metal, on
them, and a golden crown topped his head. His face was horribly
disfigured, as if it had been badly burned at some point.
Nonetheless, Braim imagined that the man had probably been
extremely handsome in his youth and would probably still look good
today if not for his face.

Standing next to the man, wearing bright
yellow robes like the butter flowers Braim had seen a botamancy
student summon once, was a much younger woman, probably in her
early thirties at the oldest. Though her blonde hair was hardly
alarming, Braim sensed that she was a katabans. He found it odd how
she held the Carnagian man's hand, as if she was his wife.

And finally, standing next to the female
katabans was a young girl, probably no older than eighteen, who
looked like the old man and the young katabans put together. She
had darker skin, like the old man, but also strikingly blonde hair
like the female katabans. She wore dark red robes, just like the
man, but she held herself more like the female katabans, with an
air of haughtiness that made her seem unfriendly at first
glance.

As a result of not recognizing those
three, Braim held back, while Darek waved at Auratus and Yorak,
saying, “Hi, guys! What are you doing here?”

Auratus noticed Darek and waved at him
with a large smile on her own face, while Yorak cut off her
conversation with the elderly Carnagian man and turned to face
them. The man, the katabans, and the young girl looked at them as
they approached as well, the man with a large smile on his
face.

“Jenur Takren? Is that you?” said the man.
Despite his age, his voice was strong and firm, but also friendly,
which sounded odd coming out of his disfigured mouth. “How are you
doing?”

Braim looked at Jenur, who was staring at
the old man in surprise.

“Malock?” said Jenur, the disbelief etched
in her voice as she, Darek, and Braim came to a stop before the
other people. “What are
you
doing here? I didn't know you'd
be here.”

“I was invited by Lord Grinf himself,”
said the old man, who was apparently named Malock. “But I didn't
expect to see you here, either. Were you also invited by the
gods?”

“I was,” said Jenur, nodding. “They sent
me an invitation, but they did not say that they had invited anyone
else.”

Then Malock's eyes darted toward Braim and
Darek. “And who are these two young men? I don't believe I have had
the pleasure of meeting either of them before.”

“Oh, excuse me,” said Jenur. She rested
one hand on Braim's shoulder and another on Darek's. “This is
Darek, my adopted son, who you met years ago during the Katabans
War when he was much younger, if you don't remember. And this is
Braim Kotogs, the man who just recently came back to life. Darek,
Braim, I would like you two to meet King Tojas Malock, the King of
Carnag.”