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  The Choosing

  ( The Blood and Brotherhood Saga - 1 )

  Jeremy Laszlo

  Jeremy Laszlo

  The Choosing

  Prologue

  Many gods there were who gathered to create the world. Each of them lent an equal gift of their own power, of their own life force, to create all things living upon Thurr. This method of creation allowed them all to remain equally powerful, working together to create perfection. Through eons they watched their world grow and prosper. Civilizations arose and their creations learned and thrived upon the land that had been made for them. With expanding civilizations came discovery of neighbors. With that discovery came borders. With borders came disputes and ultimately wars erupted from time to time upon the world that the gods had made. Among all of their creations upon Thurr, the many races of man held the gods enthralled. The creatures were but a speck in the shadow of the gods who had breathed life into them, yet the many races of man never failed to surprise their makers. So it was that the races of men were to teach the gods who made them many lessons.

  All gods were equal, and being so, many concepts had never occurred to them. The races of man however were not all equal. Some of the races had higher intellect, yet others had more brawn and larger physical prowess, but these differences occurred between different races and thus the gods expected different cultures to arise to fit the needs of different peoples. What they had not suspected came in not a physical form, but from within individuals of individual races. As time progressed the gods stood in the heavens watching man, awed by the spectrum of concepts they had never before postulated. Honor, trust, courage, fear, hope, loss, excitement, vanity, greed, lust, and ambition were just a few of the lessons gleaned by the gods from their own creations. Above all however, jealousy was learned by the gods.

  Though none of the gods would outwardly show it, each had become jealous of the races of man. Wanting to experience these things for themselves the gods took council with their brethren and it was unanimously decided that each of them would take the form of a mortal, walk among man, and learn firsthand all that they could from their mortal kin. They decided to reconvene later to share all that they had learned. One lifetime each of them was given among the many species of men, and thus they set their ethereal bodies aside, wrapping themselves in the flesh of whatever race most inspired them. Leaving the plane of immortals vacant, the gods came to roam Thurr living among mankind.

  Decades passed, merely seconds to an immortal, but among mankind the gods felt as their creations felt, learned as their creations learned, experienced what their creations experienced. One among them however found it hard to cope with mortal flesh and mortal worries. She was lost to the concepts of honor, hope, happiness, or excitement, though she had learned of them from watching mortal life from the heavens. The life she had chosen however was abundant in none of them. Loss, pain, betrayal, fear, and hatred ruled the mortal life she was born into and she would not be allowed another life among mankind. Being all powerful, she decided that in order to experience the other concepts of life upon Thurr she would simply change the circumstances she was born into and make a better life for herself and those around her.

  First she repaired the misshapen body she had been born to, creating a beauty unseen among her people. The people considered her physical mending a miracle and so vied her for more miracles and she happily complied. She healed the sick, strengthened the weak, and gave vigor to the weary. The lowly people she had been born to began to thrive like never before and as they spread tales of her miracles, her name was shouted in the streets, and before another decade had passed they had built a temple for her to abide. The people came to her temple and offered her gifts and praise and some among the people began to worship her as their deity. That is when she learned the greatest lesson of her lifetime among men.

  Every living thing upon the world was made of equal parts of each of the gods, thus when a life ended and the power returned to the gods it left them all as equals. When a new life began it was also created with equality from the gods thus leaving them as equals. But the Goddess who lived among the humans, hailed as a deity, learned a secret. It was a secret of import, and many of the lessons she learned among mankind would now be put to use.

  So it was, that with her greed and cunning she made sure words of her miraculous deeds spread, and throngs of people came to see this Goddess upon Thurr asking for her favor. Thousands upon thousands came from many races and bent knee to her upon her dais in the temple devoted to her. As each man, woman, or child gave themselves wholly to her, worshipping her as their god, they changed. To a mere mortal the change was unperceivable, but to a god, a glorious change took place indeed. Within each living thing on the world was a spark of life created by the gods themselves. Each of those sparks was like a rainbow with a myriad of sparkling twisting colors, each color representing the individual god who lent the power of life to the receiver. As each person prostrated themselves before her however, the Goddess watched as their life sparks changed to the deepest of purples, barely distinguishable from the blackest night.

  The Goddess had a few decades left upon the mortal world and thus converted multitudes of peoples from many races to her cause. As her worshippers expired all of their life force now returned to her instead of being equally split among the gods, yet each new birth still took a toll on all of them. Thus it was in the span of a single lifetime in human years that Ishanya rose among her peers, becoming more powerful than half of all of them together. Mankind had taught her well.

  Eventually all the gods returned to their realm, and though only moments in the time of gods had passed it became evident quickly that something had went amiss. Ishanya came among them and with a new abundance of power, laid rule to them all. Each of them had learned many lessons among the world's inhabitants however, and in secret councils the other gods plotted to bring Ishanya’s rule to a quick end. They went about their normal routines dutifully as if nothing had changed, each of them, one at a time, sneaking off to the world of man to make miracles, earn followers, lend their powers to champions and returned to the realm of the gods, their individual absences going unnoticed.

  Thus the first great war of mankind had begun, known to all the gods but one as the purge. A battle erupted over all of Thurr, each gods' followers seeking to destroy Ishanya’s loyal subjects. Destroy them they did, nearly to a man. Man, woman, nor child was spared. If service to Ishanya was even suspected the life was forfeit, the body dismembered and burned. The event took nearly a century measured in mortal time, but was just a fraction of a blink of an eye to the gods, and realization struck Ishanya too late. With the wholesale slaughter of her followers her power swelled almost instantly making her more powerful still. Even then however she was not more powerful than the sum of her foes, and though they did not have the power to destroy her, they didn't need to. Instead they held her captive for only a moment allowing time to pass, and as they held her generations were spawned and died on Thurr. These new generations of people were those who still worshipped all the gods but Ishanya, for now all feared to worship her. As new generations came and went all the gods became more and more powerful as Ishanya shriveled to near nothingness. Her peers had thought to teach her humility, however backed into a corner, feeling afraid of death, mourning the loss of her power, hatred brewed in the soul of a Goddess and she swore to herself to have vengeance. Thus Ishanya fled into the deepest darkest pit of the realm of the gods and hid, plotting a way to return to power, a way to redeem her name upon the world, a way to destroy her peers. Her power was all but gone so she planned and waited until the opportune time. Her few remaining followers on the world dwindled over the many centuries she waited. Her temples n
early all lay destroyed or in ruins or completely forgotten. But word of mouth kept her alive throughout the ages. She was considered an evil Goddess now, thus a very few who thought no other god would accept their service still prayed to her. Ishanya continued to wait until only one last faithful subject remained. Nearly twelve hundred years had passed on the mortal world, and weak beyond belief Ishanya crept to the mortal world for one quick deed, nearly expelling the little power she had left. Returning to the plane of the gods to hide once again, Ishanya waited in exile biding her time. Her plan already in motion, she need not wait long to receive all that she wanted. Last time she tried to gain power by showing mankind love and compassion, and in return the people were forced to fear worshipping her. This time however she would hear their prayers even if she had to wring it from their necks. This time Ishanya would make them afraid NOT to worship her.

  Chapter 1

  Farewells and Friends

  The sun shrank slowly over the mountains to the west, taking with it warmth, and leaving behind a streak of crimson. The air was cool, cooler now without the direct sunlight to warm the forest below. Winter was coming sooner than most hoped it would come, and apparently it was coming with a vengeance. The atmosphere of the treed canopy changed almost subconsciously as insects began to buzz and nocturnal predators began to stir. The wind blew cold, wistfully down the mountain slopes as breath turned to crystals, and day turned to night.

  Seth tracked the beast stealthily through the forest carefully deciding each footfall. The rains had begun a week earlier softening the loam and fallen leaves cushioning each step. Occasionally he would lose sight of the crafty creature behind brush or a large tree, though tracking it thus far had been easy enough. Several times he had believed he had a shot, but unwilling to take it and miss, had not yet drawn his bow. Thus he crept silently stalking the beast, arrow knocked waiting for the perfect shot that he feared would never come. Though it was late in the fall and leaves carpeted the forest floor, the canopy above him was vast and still blocked out much of the light. The scent of rain was heavy in the air and from time to time he could see a glimpse of the cloud covered sky above. Darkness was nearing and with it came yet another storm.

  The beast sprang from the brush ahead and darted to a small clearing only twenty yards from Seth’s own cover. This may be the last opportunity for a clear shot he would get, and thus far the best vantage Seth had received to take the beast down cleanly. Taking a deep breath Seth drew his bow to the full, tightening his abdominal muscles as he did to assure himself a steady shot. He drew down on the beast aiming just behind the head hoping to sever the spinal cord and spare himself from following yet another blood trail. He exhaled and just before releasing the arrow he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

  Seth couldn’t bring himself to actually witness the death blow of his prey, and instead just listened the fraction of the second that it took for his arrow to reach its mark. Within an instant Seth heard the familiar shink of metal meeting bone, followed by the thud of his arrow driving through the beast into the soft earth beneath it. Opening his eyes Seth surveyed the carnage. Approaching the beast Seth realized that he had made a clean kill as he had hoped, and the hare didn't even bother to twitch let alone breathe or squeal.

  Grabbing the tail end of his arrow Seth gave a single tug dislodging it and the hare impaled upon it from the soil below. Careful not to shower himself in blood, he pulled the arrow from his catch and placed it back in his quiver. Seth dropped the beast into the leather sack tied to his belt and pulling his head and one arm through his short bow slung it on his back. He had spent the entire day in the woods and had only bagged four of the small hares, but he knew his brother would easily make up for it with his own catch. Seth turned and strode back the way he had come, no longer bothering to be quiet. After nearly a mile he approached the trail where he hoped to meet his brother, at least he was pretty sure this was the trail. In the forest with the light beginning to fail, Seth wasn't certain, even though he had hunted these trails nearly his whole life.

  Walking alone in the quiet forest gave Seth ample time to think throughout the day, yet no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, the same thoughts assailed him time and time again. Tomorrow he would leave home, and though he wouldn't be going alone the thought of leaving behind his life terrified him. The uncertainty of the future weighed upon his heart and he feared the days ahead. He had no idea what the future held, but felt certain that it would not be easy. Seth not only feared for himself though, he also feared for his family. Seth’s father would be alone, forced to handle all the chores that Seth and his brother now did, on top of his normal daily routine, and Seth feared that it would be too much to handle for his father. Sure, when Seth and his brother were young, their father handled it all on his own. However, Seth’s father wasn't getting any younger, and things that were easy in his youth may prove more difficult now, and Seth was afraid that all the extra responsibilities might take a toll on him. Seth tried to reason that the neighbors would chip in to fill the void the boys left when they were gone, but rationalizing the situation didn't make him feel any better for he had so many worries; his father was just one of the many. Seth also feared for himself and his brother. Though Seth’s brother had designs for his future, Seth didn't share his ambitions. In fact Seth didn't have any ambitions of a grand future at all. All he wanted was to spend the rest of his days in Vineleaf, eventually take over for his father, and live a long quiet life. Seth had imagined himself many times simply shirking his duties to the realm and just staying home to do just that, but he didn't want to disappoint his father, and didn't want his brother to face the world alone. Thus were his thoughts as he heard the snap of a twig up ahead and better safe than sorry Seth altered his course into the deepening shadows of the trees and crept ahead silently as death.

  Only an hour of light remained in the forest valley, and being stuck in the forest, in the cold dark, was not what Garret would consider an enjoyable last night at home. His decision to head home made, he rose from the fallen tree he rested on, picking up his bow and the rabbits he had bagged, slung them across his shoulder. He tramped through the underbrush to the familiar trail he had walked many times in his years living in Vineleaf, and hunting in these forests. He continued down the path, always downhill, listening to the small mountain river that ran parallel to the trail deeper within the trees. It was not long before he came to the fork in the path where he and his brother had separated. Looking around for any sign of his brother Garret couldn’t help but hope that Seth had been watching the time. Unsure how far his brother had followed the trail to hunt, he decided to see if Seth was close.

  “Seth you coming?” Garret shouted in no direction in particular.

  “Of course” The nearly whispered response from directly behind Garret startled him.

  “Wouldn’t want to keep dad waiting.” Seth finished. A mocking smile on his lips. Pleased he was able to catch his brother unaware.

  Garret stared at his brother, so much like himself, and wondered silently how he hadn’t heard him coming. It was true, Seth was more agile than he, leaner, but what gave him the advantage? They were both tall. Both muscled from hard work, though Garret obviously the stronger, bulkier. Both had Chestnut hair, brown eyes. So very much the same, but in their entire lives together, Garret could not remember a single time he had ever caught Seth off guard. It was irritating.

  Being twins, it was somehow hard to surprise each other, as if their minds, like their bodies, were so much alike they could anticipate each other’s thoughts. It was kind of creepy to think about, yet familiar and comfortable. Seth couldn’t help but wonder how strained their bond might be if they were separated in the days to come. He could only hope that fate keep them together, as they had been from birth. Being so much alike, he could not imagine them being chosen for different paths. They turned together, and walked down the winding path towards home.

  “Still worried huh?” Garret stated more than
asked with feigned nonchalance.

  “I wish I could be as sure as you are that all will just magically fall into place and our lives won’t change.” Replied Seth. “It’s just all the possibilities, all the change, all so quickly. It’s like it’s utterly out of our control, what if something goes wrong?”

  “Stop being such a pessimist Seth.” Garret said. “It's not like the world is coming to an abrupt halt, it’s just another chapter in our lives.”

  “Yeah, a chapter someone else is writing for us.”

  “Oh cut it out, everyone has to go to the Choosing, it’s not like we are the first ones.” Garret couldn’t help but be optimistic, even excited.

  The thought of being a soldier, maybe even fighting in the wars to the south, the romanticized glory of won battles, all the tales told to him over the fires at the inn had struck a chord in his soul. He longed for adventure. He had been told once by a retired soldier that nearly two thirds of the people who had gathered for The Choosing went to the vast armies of Valdadore to train as soldiers. Two thirds, damn good odds.

  Seth had no notions of glory however. He knew all too well the stories of the great wars and battles won by the immense armies of Valdadore. Always the pessimist however, or perhaps just a realist, he remembered the stories of the fallen, and often forgotten comrades that the story tellers always mentioned with misty eyes, but never dwelt upon in their tales of adventure. Blood, death, destruction, families broken, and love destroyed; hope shattered, soul wrenching loss. The parts of the stories left untold, hidden between the lines of the tales. Those were the stories Seth feared, the stories he had never been told, but he heard them, beneath the surface, the stories of those lost, that each began their final chapters at The Choosing.