Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I ignore the screams, I ignore the songs and I ignore the souls I suddenly see in the water floating toward us, begging us to save them, offering us coin that we can no longer use to cross the river Styx, I ignore the people still trapped in the water waiting to be free because to look at them would shove them further into its depths.
We continue to walk until we’re on the island. The minute my feet touch the rocky soil, I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief.
We all walk through the trees. And to the ancient stone chairs, each of them from the worlds we used to rule. Mesopotamia, Egypt, Sumeria, Inca, and the list goes on.
Enki speaks first. “The trial for Ra ends in one week, who’s participating?”
Nobody raises a hand.
Inti kicks the ground in front of him. “I can do at least two or three tops, but it’s draining.”
Tyrell nods his head and starts to pace. “I’ll take two.”
Dag mutters a curse. “I did three last time.”
Apep actually laughs. “You all act like it’s a burden.”
Pain slices across my chest, I look away, jaw clenched. “It’s a burden knowing why they’re doing it, and you know that.”
Apep shrugs like it’s not a big deal while I want to pummel him against his stupid rune, with it’s annoying A etched in the stone.
“Father.” Enki’s grin widens as he tosses his hammer in the air over and over. “It’s been a while for you, what? A hundred years? Two?”
Apep looks away, his smile cruel. “And I bear that burden to this day, including the night I sired you.”
Inti starts clapping.
“Fight, fight.” Daggon laughs.
They’re all idiots. I’m stuck with idiots.
Tyrell shares a look with me, his long black hair blows in the wind.
Apep clears his throat. “The only one, who hasn’t participated is Cyrus, isn’t that right?”
He always pushes. One day, I’ll remove his head from his body. Worst creation I’ve ever dealt with. “That’s because I’m the one who gets to kill your final creation, look forward to your death once I leave Apep, I know I will.”
Apep takes a step toward me only to be stopped by Tyrell and held back.
“You can try, but deep down you know you like our little war, killing me would kill your only sad pathetic purpose, Ra."
The ground shakes.
“Enough.” Tyrell holds up his hands. His fingertips have formed into claws. One swipe and you wouldn’t even feel your own death, just see the sky as you fall into the underworld. “Everyone must do their duty of worship. And the others—.”
We all quiet as the trees start to sway.
The earth trembles beneath us.
And slowly, one by one, townspeople start to walk with lanterns down the stone pathway.
Minor gods.
Ninety-nine total are left in Deer Harbor.
They’re covered in black hooded robes as they walk toward us singing the ancient song of worship and sacrifice.
I squeeze my eyes shut as they try not to look into the water, some have deliberately done it to get sucked in, to see a father, a friend, a mother, thinking that all they have to do is swim back to the top to escape. The water offers them Heaven after an immortal Hell. Once you see the souls of loved ones it goes from giving life to only bringing eternal death.
It’s why immortals wear the hoods; the temptation to see beyond, to see what they used to, is too deep.
I wait for their song to reach our ears and lean back against my stone chair; my hand goes to my spear and grips it before twisting into the dirt with a loud click.
I can practically smell the blood on my blade, fresh, metallic, alive.
The words haunt me as the voices of our people rise. There were never lyrics attached to this music and yet, we all know they exist.
It’s Hurrian Hymn number six, the oldest recorded song in human history. I wince as the words fall from their lips as they fall to their knees onto the dirt, blood dripping slowly from their palms as they worship us and give their sacrifice of strength. It’s what they do, when a god is finishing his test, we mourn, and then we celebrate and wait for the next.
I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I was sent down for my trial.
Hundreds of years.
And finally, I can go home where I belong.
“Let them fight. Let us die. In the end the gods will rise. Save us from ourselves, protect us as we protect you, honor our sacrifice. See your promises through!” They cry out in unison. “We are here, we are your people, hear our cry, let them fight, let us die, in the end, the gods will rise. They must rise, Olympus hear our cries.”
“We must honor them as is our ritual. The final sacrifice will be given a gift and with that gift from the gods we will gift the immortals trapped here and create mates for them so they will no longer be lonely. We cannot allow them to mate with humans, but we can give them more of us,” I rasp, when the song is finished. “Each of you will take at least one, including Apep.”