Gathering of the Chosen (30 page)

And much to Braim's surprise, he could
already see and feel the effect that it was having on Diog. The god
looked weaker and weaker, his grip became limper and limper, and he
seemed to be having trouble standing. Still, Diog was a god and
therefore had a ton of life force, perhaps an infinite amount,
considering how it was impossible for a mortal to kill a god.

Even so, Braim must have been draining a
ton of it at a rate faster than he thought, because he now felt
stronger than ever. He kicked at Diog's chest, which caused the god
to drop Braim, who fell on his feet. Braim's throat still hurt from
where Diog had tried to choke him, but he didn't focus on that.
Instead, he focused on absorbing more of Diog's life force, because
he still held the god's arm and did not intend on letting go until
he was sure that Diog was down for good.

The god tried to pull his arm out of
Braim's grasp, but he could not succeed because Braim was holding
on as tightly as he could. Under ordinary circumstances, Braim
would have been absolutely shocked by this turn of events, but he
was so focused on taking down Diog that he didn't let himself be
shocked.

“Let go,” Diog said, his voice weaker than
ever. “Let me go, you unnatural abomination, or I'll—”

“Or you'll what, kill me?” said Braim. He
felt stronger than ever, so strong that even Diog didn't scare him
anymore. “That's not exactly the most compelling reason for me to
let you go, you know.”

Diog lashed out with his other arm,
striking Braim in the stomach. The blow—while not as strong as it
could have been, perhaps, because Diog was weaker than he normally
was—still hit like a boulder rolling down a steep hill and the
impact sent Braim flying. A ripping sound followed as well, but
Braim paid no attention to it due to the fact that he was currently
flying uncontrollably through the air.

But Braim managed to recover in midair and
land on his feet, albeit unsteadily. The impact jolted him, but a
quick shake of his head reoriented his senses and made him realize
that he was holding something.

Looking at his right hand, Braim saw that
he was holding Diog's arm, which was little more than a dry,
weathered husk now. The sight of it made him look up at Diog, who
was indeed missing the lower half of his left arm. The God of the
Grave, however, didn't look like he was in pain at all, though he
rubbed his left elbow just the same.

“Clever … clever move, Braim Kotogs,” said
Diog, whose voice sounded a little stronger now than it had before.
“Very clever. Very few human mages would have dared to even attempt
to absorb the life force of a god. I am surprised that the effort
didn't outright kill you.”

Braim threw Diog's severed arm onto the
floor. It immediately turned into dust. A second later, Diog's arm
regrew out of the stump of his left arm. The God of the Grave
glanced at his newly-regrown arm before looking at Braim again.

“Yeah, well, I'm pretty creative that way,
I guess,” said Braim with a shrug. “Maybe I survived because I'm
special.”

“Or unnatural,” said Diog. He flexed the
fingers of his newly-regrown arm. “But it doesn't matter how you
were able to handle that, because I will kill you just the same and
restore the power that the natural laws of Martir once held in this
world.”

Braim sighed heavily. “Come on. You've
already tried—and failed—to kill me several times. I know you gods
tend to be stubborn, but don't you think your time might be better
spent doing something else? Like, I dunno, attending a funeral or
something?”

Diog didn't answer. He just ran at Braim
again, his hands balled into fists.

Braim didn't run, however, because he was
tired of fighting and he wanted to end this now. He punched his
fist into his other hand and drew upon all of the godly power that
he had absorbed from Diog. He was going to wait until the god was
just within his reach, which would be soon, based on how fast Diog
was running toward him.

Just a few more feet now …
Braim
thought, staying as still as possible so Diog could not anticipate
his next move.
Just a few more feet and …

In a second, Diog was in Braim's reach.
And Braim struck, punching the god in the face with as much
strength as he possibly could. It wasn't just his own mortal
strength he called upon, but also Diog's own strength which he had
absorbed earlier. It made his fist feel strong enough to smash
boulders into pieces.

And when his fist struck, the blow sent
Diog flying. The god didn't even let out a shout of surprise as he
flew through the air and struck the back wall of the room, the
impact causing the entire building to shake. Then Diog fell to the
floor face-first, revealing a huge, ugly crack in the wall from
where he had crashed into it.

Braim waited ten seconds, waiting for Diog
to get back up and go at him again. The longer he waited, however,
the more unlikely it seemed that Diog would get up again.

Damn,
Braim thought, looking down
at his fist, which didn't hurt at all despite the fact that he had
just punched a god hard enough to send him flying.
I must have
hit him pretty hard. I don't think I killed him, but maybe he'll
have a really bad headache for the rest of the day.

In any case, Braim was happy that the
fight was over and that he had, somehow, won. He was pretty sure
that he shouldn't have won—gods were so far above mortals that it
was like comparing the strength of an ant to that of a human—but he
didn't like questioning strokes of luck like this, so he decided to
find his way out of here and get back to World's End.

So Braim ran over to the closed door and
pulled it open. He was just about to dash through it when he caught
a glimpse of shining metal from within the darkness of the hallway,
a sight that forced him to jump back.

But then Ragao's blades came flying out of
the darkness and cut across his chest. Blood shot out from his
chest and ripples of pain went across Braim's entire body as the
blades cut through him.

Crying out in pain, Braim staggered
backwards, staying just out of Ragao's reach, but the half-god was
advancing on him rapidly. She glanced at Diog briefly, let out a
deeply primal and unsettling growl, and then resumed advancing on
Braim, his blood glinting off her swords.

Damn beast,
Braim thought,
scowling.
I don't have
time
for you.

Braim raised his hand and unleashed a
burst of light from it. The light burst stuck Ragao in the face;
and since it was powered by Diog's life force, it was strong enough
to knock her flat on her back. Ragao's swords clattered around her
when she fell, but she did not get up again.

That did not solve Braim's chest problems,
but he knew enough panamancy to cast a quick healing spell to heal
his chest, which he performed without delay. His clothes were still
bloody and he was still worn out from the shock of the blow, but at
least he wasn't bleeding anymore. He would have to have a more
qualified healer look at his chest later, however, to have it
healed fully, because the spell he had cast only really healed the
skin and not much else.

Now time to get out of here,
Braim
thought as he walked around Ragao, who seemed to be out like a
light now.
I wonder how the others are doing and if they're
trying to find me.

But that thought made Braim stop. He
realized that he didn't know how he was going to get out of here.
He knew nothing about the general layout of Diog's castle; and even
if he did, that didn't mean he could get off this island and back
to World's End in a reasonable amount of time. While Braim could
teleport, he wasn't good enough at it to teleport great
distances.

Am I stuck here until these two wake up
for round two?
Braim thought, his shoulders slumping at the
thought.
There's no way I could go another round with these two,
not again.

Then a thought occurred to Braim. He
looked down at Ragao, who was still unconscious, and wondered if he
could possibly use her powers to return to Martir. She was clearly
capable of traversing great distances, after all, so he would just
make her take him back.

So Braim kicked the half-god in the head
to wake her up. The blow worked, because as soon as he kicked her,
Ragao's eyes opened underneath her mask and looked at him with
anger. She reached toward her swords, but Braim aimed a hand
shining with light energy at her face, causing her to stop.

“Listen, Ragao, I think the two of us got
off to a rough start, what with you trying to kill me three times
in a row and all,” said Braim, keeping his tone friendly, but
deeply serious so she wouldn't think he was someone to
underestimate. “And if you keep trying to kill me, we might have to
end our relationship on a grim note, if you catch my drift.”

Ragao stared at Braim, but she seemed to
understand his words well enough, because she didn't move any of
her arms. Still, Braim could tell that she was just waiting for him
to lower his guard so she could kill him as mercilessly as a baba
raga.

“So I thought I'd cut a deal with you,”
said Braim. He nodded at Diog, who was still lying unconscious on
the base of the wall on the other side of the room. “See your old
master? Diog? He's down. I beat him. And I'll do far, far worse to
you if you don't help me get to where I need to go.”

Ragao said nothing, but he could tell that
she was thinking about what he just said. Braim briefly wondered
what the thought process of a half-god was like before returning
his focus to the current situation.

“Now, I need to get back to World's End,
and fast,” Braim continued. “I, however, don't know how to get back
to World's End from here. So I want you to take me back. If you do,
I promise not to attack and beat you ever again. Sound like a good
deal?”

Ragao let out a deep, throaty growl, but
even he could tell that she was not going to try to kill him again.
She then nodded her ugly head, though she hardly looked happy about
it.

“Awesome,” said Braim. “Just take me back
to the Stadium and I'll handle the rest from there.”

***

T
he voice was cold and unsettling
and unnatural. It was like listening to the howling wind in an
empty valley, only a thousand times worse. And Raya could still
feel whatever it was that was crawling up her body in a way that
made her feel very violated.

Raya could hardly breathe. Abacos stepped
back into the corner, but the Steed had nowhere to go. He kept
snorting and pawing at the ground, but he was clearly doing that
more out of fear than anything.

“Who … who are you?” said Raya, her voice
so tiny that she felt more like a child than an adult now. “What …
what are you doing?”

Do you not recognize my voice?
said
the voice in her ear. Raya thought that it sounded vaguely
feminine.
I suppose not, seeing as we have never met before. But
I have seen your father, the brave man who saved this world from
its own creators in his youth. It has been ages since he came close
to my realm, but I can see that his daughter is as arrogant as he
was.

Raya gulped. “How do you know my father?
Are you some kind of goddess?”

Goddess? Of course not,
said the
voice.
I existed before the gods, who are as ants beneath me.
No, I am the Void, the primordial force that once ruled the wastes
of the world before this one until the Powers came and built
Martir.

Raya shuddered. “I've heard of you. But I
thought that you were returned to your original boundaries after
Uron's defeat.”

Silly girl,
said the Void.
Uron
did do that, true, but with Uron and Skimif's deaths, and the
resurrection of the human known as Braim Kotogs, the natural laws
of Martir have grown weaker. Now more than ever, I have a chance to
finally consume this world, and all who dwell within it.

Raya had no idea what these 'natural laws'
were, but it didn't really matter because at this point she was
pretty sure that the only reason that she was still alive was
because the Void was allowing her to live. She tried to move, but
it was impossible. It felt like the Void was restricting her
movement and she had no idea how to break free of its grip on
her.

“You can try,” said Raya, “but even if
Skimif is dead, there are still the rest of the gods. They will
stop you, you know.”

If the gods could stop me, why haven't
they already?
the Void said.
You do not realize how much
weaker the gods have become ever since Skimif's death. They can no
more stop me than you humans can stop the tide.

Raya had no idea if the Void's words were
true or not, but then she realized that the Void had a point. She
didn't see or hear the gods anywhere, which made her realize that
she and Abacos were on their own here, at least for now.

And don't bother hoping that Alira will
come and save you, either,
said the Void.
She's currently
incapacitated. Truly, you are on your own, as all beings ultimately
are.

Raya found that rather pessimistic, but
she didn't say that aloud because she knew that the Void could kill
her instantly. In fact, she found herself wondering why the Void
had yet to do so, considering how it had her in its grasp.

Maybe I can somehow convince the Void
to let me go,
Raya thought.
I mean, I can clearly
communicate with it, so maybe if I just talk to it, it will
listen.

But finding the words to speak was much
harder than it should have been. It was probably due to the way in
which the Void felt against her skin. It was a shuddering, creeping
feeling that made Raya want to throw off her clothes and jump into
a lake. She found herself wishing that Carmaz was here. Or really,
any of the other godlings. She would have even been happy to see
Saia.