Gathering of the Chosen (3 page)

Darek, as friendly as ever, held out a
hand and said, “Pleased to see you again, Your Majes—”

“Hold on a moment,” said King Malock, his
eyes fixed on Braim as if he was the only thing that existed in the
room at the moment. “Did you say Braim Kotogs? You mean
the
Braim Kotogs, the only man to ever return from the dead?”

Braim normally liked to be the center of
attention, but for some reason he found Malock's gaze unnerving,
perhaps because it was coming from such an ugly, distorted face. It
didn't help that the female katabans and the young girl were
staring at him as well. Especially the young girl, who was watching
him as carefully as if she was trying to figure out how to fit him
into her own little plans, whatever those may have been.

“Yes, that's him, all right,” said Darek.
He still held out his hand. “Anyway, pleased to see you again, Your
Majesty. It's been a long time since we last met, but I still
remember you very well.”

“I'm sure you do,” said Malock, although
Braim was under the impression that Malock was not paying much
attention to Darek. “This is quite an honor, Braim. I did not
expect to meet the man who came back from the dead. You are famous
throughout the whole world, you know, from the highest king to the
lowliest peasant, for having returned to life.”

“I am?” said Braim, scratching the back of
his head. “But I've never even left North Academy until
yesterday.”

“Word travels quickly along the sea
winds,” said Malock. “Even into the ears of old men like me.”

The female katabans coughed loudly,
causing Malock to start and look at her.

“Oh, yes, how rude of me,” said Malock. He
gestured at the female katabans and the young girl. “Please meet my
wife, Queen Hanarova, and my daughter, Raya Mana.”

Queen Hanarova smiled at Braim and Darek,
though it reminded Braim of that same patronizing look that the
katabans in the city earlier had given him and the others on their
way to the Temple. “Hello, you two. It is quite an honor to meet
the man who came back.”

Darek, as with Malock, held out a hand and
said, “Pleased to meet you again, Queen Hanarova. I—”

“So you really
did
come back from
the dead?” Hanarova asked, interrupting Darek as if he hadn't said
a word. “Truly?”

“Yep,” said Braim, nodding, not sure what
else to say. “I did. You can ask Darek. He was there when it
happened.”

Darek puffed out his chest and said, “Yes,
I was. I could tell you all about the Spirit Lands, if you'd
like.”

“I don't care,” said Hanarova, without
missing a beat. She then gestured for the young girl to approach.
“Come and introduce yourself to the most famous man in the world
now, Raya. Don't be rude or shy.”

Much to Braim's surprise, Raya curtsied
him and said, “Hello, Mr. Kotogs. I am very pleased to meet you.
You are far more handsome in real life than the descriptions of you
suggested.”

“Really?” said Braim, perking up. “Well,
no surprise there. Words can't describe this.” He gestured at his
face as he said that.

“And quite humble, too,” said Raya.

It took Braim a second to realize that she
was mocking him, but before he could respond, Queen Hanarova looked
at Jenur and smiled, although it was hardly a friendly smile.
“Hello, Jenur. I almost didn't notice you. You've grown quite a bit
quieter with age, haven't you?”

“Hello, Hana,” said Jenur. She sounded
polite, but she stood as straight as a board, like she was trying
to keep herself from doing something she would regret. “As
untactful as ever, I see.”

“Tact is a human construct,” said Hana.
“If anything, I would suggest that
you
should show some tact
to me, seeing as I am royalty.”

“And I'm the Magical Superior,” said
Jenur, “which means I know all sorts of ways that I can make your
day worse without even thinking about it.”

“Cute threat,” said Hana. She hugged
Malock's arm. “If you tried anything, Tojas would simply order the
Carnagian Army to tear your silly little school apart. Right,
Tojas?”

Malock now looked rather uncomfortable
with both Jenur and Hana looking at him. “Er, ladies, why don't we
move the conversation to something a bit more … lighthearted? I
mean, it has been many years since we have all been together like
this. Why not enjoy it, rather than fill it with petty
insults?”

“Mal has a point,” Jenur said. “I really
don't have any time to spend arguing with an old katabans,
anyway.”

“
Old
?” Hana said indignantly. “I am
only one hundred and fifty years old. That's young in katabans
years.”

“Hold on,” said Braim, causing Jenur and
Hana to look at him. “You really
are
a katabans?”

“Of course,” said Hana, tossing her hair
back. “What else would I be?”

“And you're married to a human king,” said
Braim, pointing at Malock.

“Indeed,” said Hana. “I am just going to
assume that your resurrection must have messed with your ability to
notice the obvious, so I won't hold your denseness against
you.”

Braim didn't know what to say to that. So
he pointed at Raya and said, “And this is your daughter? As in,
your actual, blood daughter?”

“Yes,” said Hana.

“So that makes her half-human and
half-katabans, then,” said Braim.

“Of course,” said Hana. She looked at her
daughter affectionately. “And she's the best daughter in the world,
best child in the world in fact. You would have to be a fool not to
see her greatness.”

“I didn't even know it was possible for
humans and katabans to, uh, mate like that,” said Braim.

“It is very much possible,” Malock assured
him with a wink. “And no, Raya does not suffer from any deformities
or terminal illnesses as a result of her upbringing. She used to be
quite ill as a child, but I had only the best doctors and healers
in the Northern Isles to take care of her, and she has been a
healthy girl ever since.”

Braim scratched his chin and looked at
Raya. She seemed too quiet for his tastes, but he supposed that she
might just be shy. In any case, she certainly didn't look like she
was sickly or suffering from any physical deformities that one
might expect from an inter-species hybrid, so maybe it was not
worth pushing the subject further.

Darek, on the other hand, said, “So can
Raya access the ethereal and stuff? Can she live as long as a human
or does she have the typical lifespan of a katabans?
Furthermore—”

“Do shut up,” Hana said to Darek, glaring
at him as if he was intentionally annoying her. “Our beautiful
daughter is not some unusual specimen for you mages to study and
dissect. If you want to talk to her later, you can do so, but right
now your questions are obviously distressing her. See?”

Hana was right. Raya looked rather
stressed, as if every one of Darek's questions had been as
difficult as a complex mathematical formula. She had pulled her
hood over her head, which seemed rather over the top to Braim, not
to mention rude. He certainly didn't like how it hid her beautiful
features, as Braim was of the opinion that a beautiful woman should
never be afraid to show her beauty wherever she was.

Then again, she
is
a
princess,
Braim thought.
She can do pretty much whatever she
wants, regardless of what we think.

Darek looked a little annoyed at being
told off by Hana, but he nodded and said, “All right,” before
turning to face Auratus and Yorak, neither of whom had said a thing
during this entire exchange.

“I'm glad to see you two again,” said
Darek. “How's the Undersea Institute?”

“Wonderful,” Yorak said. Unlike other
aquarians Braim had met, her voice lacked the distinct gurgled
accent that all aquarians who learned Divina as a second language
spoke with. “We have just recently built a new dorm to house the
large number of new students we've received over the last couple of
months. We named it the Kuroshio Dorm.”

Darek nodded solemnly, although Braim had
no idea what that meant. He figured that Kuroshio was the name of
someone important who must have died, but he decided to ask Darek
that question later, after the announcement.

“We were just speaking with King Malock
and his family while we were waiting to be let into the rest of the
Temple,” said Yorak, gesturing at the Carnagian Royal Family. “But
we certainly did not expect to see you three here.”

“Same here,” said Darek. “We thought we
were the only ones invited to the Temple.”

“Clearly, you were wrong about that,” said
Hana, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “although I don't
understand why they invited you five, aside from Braim, of
course.”

Darek—whose patience with Hana seemed to
be running thinner and thinner—folded his arms across his chest and
said, in a strained tone similar to Jenur's, “Well, it can't
possibly
be because I helped save the whole world and the
gods themselves, now can it?”

Jenur put a hand on Darek's shoulder and
shot him a warning look. Darek looked at her and said, “What?”

“Your mother is obviously trying to tell
you not to speak that way to royalty,” said Hana. “That honestly
surprises me, though, because Jenur hasn't exactly had a sterling
record when it comes to showing respect to royalty herself.”

“Sorry, Hana, but you aren't exactly right
about that,” said Jenur. “The truth is, I was simply trying to let
Darek know that he shouldn't be wasting his time responding to such
obvious bait.”

“Bait?” Hana repeated. She put one hand on
her chest. “Me? I would never bait anyone. Baiting people is quite
uncouth, especially for royalty such as myself. But if I
were
to 'bait' anyone, it would be you, Jenur, because you
are so easy to bait that I don't even have to try.”

Jenur shot Malock a look that clearly
said,
What did you see in this woman?

Malock shrugged sheepishly and said
nothing. Braim decided that Carnag was probably a very good place
to live, if Malock was wise enough not to get in between two
fighting women. Perhaps he'd move there once he got fully
acclimated to the physical world again. Braim had heard that
Carnagian women were quite beautiful, after all, which seemed as
good a reason to move there as any.

“Queen Hanarova, I do not approve of you
speaking so unkindly to Jenur,” said Yorak. “While I don't know the
history between you two, I do know that Jenur is the Magical
Superior and is thus my peer. As a fellow mage, I do not like to
see her treated in this way by anyone, even by royalty such as
yourself.”

“Fine,” said Hana. “I was getting tired of
talking to her, anyway. Does anyone know when the gods will call us
into their meeting chamber?”

“Good question, Hanarova,” said a familiar
deep voice above them, causing the entire group to look up toward
the ceiling in response. “The answer to that question is, very
soon.”

At first, Braim saw nothing on the
ceiling, but then a large figure slowly materialized into view. The
figure lacked legs. Instead, he had a wispy, ghost-like tail. He
was also heavily armored, with fingers like chains and a human-like
face that lacked a nose. His green eyes and crooked teeth only
added to his creepy appearance, especially as he floated down
toward the front of the group, blocking off their path to the doors
at the end of the hall.

Though Braim had not interacted with this
particular god often, he still recognized him, although it was
Darek who said, “Hello, Ghostly God. I didn't expect to see you
today.”

The Ghostly God, God of Ghosts and Mist,
smiled. “And a good day to you, too, Darek. You seem as a rude and
disrespectful as ever, which surprises me, seeing as you still owe
me eight years of service.”

Braim looked at Darek in surprise. “Eight
years of service?”

“Long story,” said Darek, without looking
at Braim. He then put his hands on his hips, looking up at the
deity floating before them. “What are you doing here, Ghostly God?
I thought they were going to send a katabans to fetch us.”

“This is the Temple of the Gods,” the
Ghostly God pointed out. “And seeing as I am a god, it should be
obvious why I am here. It would be sort of like asking why the
Magical Superior lives in North Academy.”

“You still didn't answer my other
question,” Darek said.

“Yes, well, I decided to give you all a
hero's welcome,” said the Ghostly God, in the least convincing
voice Braim had ever heard anyone use. “Everyone here today,
perhaps with the exception of Princess Raya, has contributed to
saving the world at some point or another. I believe that heroism
should never go unrewarded. Therefore, I wanted to greet you all
myself.”

The Ghostly God was not nearly as good a
liar as he thought himself to be. He didn't make any eye contact
with any of them the whole time he spoke, but that hardly surprised
Braim. The gods—especially southern gods such as the Ghostly
God—tended to think they were too smart for mortals to notice when
they were lying. It was one of their annoying tendencies, though
you usually didn't point it out unless you wanted to get punished
for speaking disrespectfully of the gods.

Anyway, Braim suspected that the Ghostly
God had really arrived to greet them because of his interest in
Braim. When Braim had come back to life two months ago, the Ghostly
God, who had been at North Academy at the time, had grilled Braim
on what the afterlife was like. Braim had answered the god's
questions to the best of his ability, but the Ghostly God still
dropped by the school every now and then to interrogate him about
it, though Braim had learned how to hide from the Ghostly God
whenever he showed up unannounced like that so he wouldn't have to
waste time answering more useless questions.