Chapter 56: The Boozen One

Chapter 56: The Boozen One

“I’m not going to be your chosen one.” I harrumphed and crossed my arms. There were very few things I would never budge on, and this was one of them. Chosen ones lived a life of conflict and pain, and their stories always ended with some kind of sacrifice. I had zero interest in that. Several hundred years of brewing and good eating followed by a death surrounded by mustachoied great great great great grandbabies sounded just fine. Assuming I ever married again. Maybe great great great great grandnieces and nephews?

Barck pulled his beard. “IT’S NOT THAT KIND OF CHOSEN!”

“Well then, what kind is it? Keeping in mind that you kind of need to earn my trust here, Mr. Forced Blessing.”

“PETE, DOES ANYTHIN’ ABOUT ME SOUND LIKE THA WARRIOR HERO TYPE? WHAT KIND OF CHOSEN DO YA THINK I’LL NEED?”

“You’re a skyscraper-sized omnipotent deity made of landscape, I have no appropriate point of reference here.”

Barck grumbled for a moment. I thought I heard him mutter something about ‘whiny mortals’ under his breath. “FINE, LET ME PUT IT IN TERMS YOUR FEEBLE MIND WILL UNDERSTAND. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE GREAT GAME.”

“Oh, wow. Hearing the words ‘Great Game’ from a God makes it soooo much better.”

“I’M NOT LUNARA, I UNDERSTAND SARCASM.”

“Good for you.”

Barck’s eyes narrowed. “DO I NEED TO SMITE YOU?”

I quickly sat in seiza, then began pinwheeling in space. “Listening.”

“BETTER. IN A WORLD WITH REINCARNATION, YOU CAN GET STAGNATION. THA SAME SOULS GOIN’ THROUGH THA SAME CYCLES. THE GREAT GAME IS TO BREAK THAT CYCLE. DO YOU SEE?”

“I... think I do. You summon souls from outside the cycle to introduce change.”

“THAT’S RIGHT. YOU AREN’T A CHOSEN ‘ONE’, YOU’RE ONE OF EIGHT CHOSEN ‘CATALYSTS’. EVERY TEN THOUSAND YEARS WE COMPETE TO SEE WHO CAN SUMMON A SOUL THAT WILL BRING FORTH THE MOST CHANGE.”

“Good or bad change?”

“DEPENDS. USUALLY GOOD, BUT YOUR MORTAL CONCEPTS OF GOOD AND EVIL ARE OBVIOUSLY LIMITED. THERE HAVE BEEN SOME DEMON KINGS, BUT THEY MUST STILL BE PLACED IN AN EXISTING MORTAL VESSEL, WHICH LIMITS THEM GREATLY.”

“I hope I’m one of the good ones.” I joked, but there was a pit forming in my stomach. This felt a lot like responsibility.

“I CAN GUARANTEE THERE WILL BE SOME THAT FIND YOU TO BE THE OPPOSITE.”

“I guess... like Tim, or those Honourable Whatever of Brewers.”

“THOSE IN POWER WILL OFTEN FEAR CHANGE. I WOULDN’T WORRY THOUGH, THE OTHER CHOSEN WILL BE RUNNING INTERFERENCE.”

“Well, that’s nice. Can you tell me about them?”

“NO. THAT’S ONE O’ MY PUNISHMENTS. I CAN’T KNOW ANYTHIN’ NEW ABOUT THEM OR WHERE THEY ARE.”

“But you could tell me what you already know.” I waggled my eyebrows.

“NO.”

“In that case, will the others be told about me? That seems like a major handicap.” I frowned. I was going to have seven people out there with all my intimate details? That was almost as intrusive as social media.

“SOME THINGS. WE ARE FORBIDDEN FROM REVEALING YOUR NAME OR LOCATION DIRECTLY.”

“Well, shit. At least tell me they aren’t trying to kill me.”

“SPEAKING OF REWARDS.”

“Godsdamnit!”

“I CAN’T, IT’S IN THE RULES.” Barck deadpanned. “THE CHOSEN CATALYST THAT IS ABLE TO INFLUENCE THE MOST SAPIENTS WILL RECEIVE ONE WISH.”

“Worse still. Can we wish for more wishes?”

“NO. IT COULD BE TO GO BACK TO THEIR ORIGINAL WORLD, TO LIVE FOREVER, RAISE THE DEAD, OR GAIN VAST POWER.”

“ What about making someone love me?”

“SICKO.”

“Just asking.” I sighed. “What I’m hearing is that I have seven targets on my back.” This was almost worse than being summoned to kill some world devouring monster. At least the monster wasn’t incentivized to seek and destroy me personally. I would just be another tasty treat amongst all the carnage.

“YES AND NO. VERY FEW OF THE EIGHT SUMMONED THIS TIME WOULD BE INTERESTED IN KILLING YOU.”

“Barck, if you’re trying to make me feel better about this whole thing, you’re making it worse. 'Very few' is significantly higher than zero.”

“I’m good with spoilers. Hit me.” I paused. “Not literally.”

“I UNDERSTAND FIGURES OF SPEECH AS WELL AS SARCASM. MY FAVOURED SOULS WERE BRAN, ANNIE, WHISTLEMOP, AND TOURMALINE. THE OTHER GODS HAD SOME OF THEIR FAVOURED PRESENT AS WELL, BUT I CANNOT SAY WHO. THEY WERE ALL PLACED TO INFLUENCE YOU IN A SPECIFIC DIRECTION. I COULDN’T AFFORD TO LOSE YOU AFTER TIARA STOLE THE MARCH ON ME, WHICH WAS ANOTHER REASON FOR THE FORCED BLESSING.”

“Ok, those make sense. I’ll have to think about who the others might be.” Balin was almost guaranteed to be one. Maybe Tiara’s? Grim for Lunara. Maybe Doc Opal for Archis? “Were any of them ever famous people? Wait, Tourmaline? Who the heck is that!?”

“TO YOUR FIRST QUESTION, YES. WHISTLEMOP IS THE SOUL THAT INVENTED BANKING ON ERD. HE IS TECHNICALLY BOTH MINE AND AARON’S. BRAN IS THE SOUL THAT INVENTED BREAD.”

“Phew. Sliced bread?”

“THAT TOO. ANNIE GOLDSTONE IS MY MOST TREASURED SOUL.” Barck waved his hand and the mist below us cleared to reveal the inside of the Thirsty Goat, as if we were in a giant IMAX theatre. Annie was there, busy cleaning everything with wild abandon, and occasionally ordering Johnsson around. “THE FIRST BREWER.” Barck’s voice was full of joy and affection.

I leaned in to see. The view was crystal clear from up here. There was likely a zoom function too. I gave Barck some side-eye; creeper Gods using it to peep indeed.

“I CAN STILL READ YOUR MIND.”

I turned away and whistled. “Sooooo, anyways. Who’s Tourmaline?”

“FOR THAT CRACK I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU.” Barck waved his hand, and the mist covered the mountain once more.

“Oh, come on!!”

“NO. SUFFER, MORTAL.”

“You apparently own my soul. I don’t think any form of suffering can match that!” I paused, as my mind raced back to the visions I’d been shown. They were oddly hazy, as though my mind was rejecting the memory. [Flash of Insight]. Pain briefly spiked in my mind, and then I remembered. I pointed accusingly at Barck.

“You’re supposed to tell me how I can win my soul back!”

“EVENTUALLY.” Barck prevaricated.

“I would appreciate it if you told me now. Especially if we are going to have a relationship based on mutual trust and respect.”

“I AM A GOD. I DO NOT REQUIRE YOUR TRUST, AND YOUR RESPECT IS INEVITABLE.”

“I will sit on my ass and macrame tiny yellow ducks until the day I die.” I folded my arms and leveled my most deadly threat. I’d do it too, if only to make a point that I was nobody’s lackey.

“UGH, FINE. YOU MUST FIRST CREATE FOR ME AN APPROPRIATE STAGE. SOMETHING GRAND ENOUGH TO WARRANT ME SUMMONING AN AVATAR. I WILL THEN COME TO YOU IN A FORM YOU DO NOT EXPECT AND CHALLENGE YOU TO A GAME. IF YOU WIN, YOU WIN YOUR SOUL BACK. IF YOU LOSE, I CONTINUE TO OWN YOUR SOUL UNTIL THE NEXT CYCLE. YOU GET ONE CHANCE PER CYCLE, NO MORE, NO LESS.”

“Works for me. How grand?”

“THAT’S FOR ME TO DECIDE. 'NOT EXPECT' KIND OF REQUIRES THAT.”

Damnit! Well, the deca-millennial was coming up. I could probably do something with that.

“IT’S ABOUT TIME FOR YOU TO BE GETTING BACK.” Barck waved his hand, and my feet began dissolving into light. I panicked for a moment, and then realized he probably wasn’t going to be killing his ‘Chosen’.

“Wait! Do you really have nothing else you can help me with?”

“HMM, WHEN YOU ARRIVE BACK ON THA FIRMAMENT, LOOK FOR A FRIEND IN NEED.”

“That’s it?” My legs had now vanished up to my knees; white light streamed from my thighs and down the mountain.

“YOU HAVE ALREADY MET ONE O’ THA OTHER CHOSEN.”

“What? Who!?” I was now specks of light up to my neck, and I craned an ear up to hear.

“AND THA WHITE GOAT IS YER OLD WIFE.”

“NO! REALLY!? YOU LIE!”

“YOU FIGURE IT OUT, NOW PISS OFF, I HAVE WORK TA DO.”

My eyes dissolved, and the last thing I saw was a shit-eating grin that stretched across the horizon.

—

There was a flash in the Cathedral of the Gods. The statue of Barck cascaded through a rainbow of light before the entire room was filled with such brilliance that all assembled dropped to their knees in pain and reverence. Unnoticed among the chaos, a single figure fell to the floor in a corner. None saw him arrive, and none took notice as the room devolved into chaos.

The figure stumbled amongst the shoving, shouting throng. “Ugh, I still have grass stains on my pants, and couldn’t he have fixed this gash on my knee? Oof! Scuse me!”

“Pete? Is that you?”

“Bran, what are you doing here!?”