Reborn And Chosen By Three Gods

CHAPTER 2

Hemlin was feeling his fifty-two years as he opened the cathedral's catacomb entrance before the sun reached the horizon. He had maybe ten minutes before dawn, so they had to hurry.

  His assistant, Baxly, was right behind him, lugging a large sack of freshly laundered tunics for today's new arrivals. A second bag contained simple leather slipper shoes. One-size-fits-all for both items. Their job wasn't to make them pretty, just presentable in public.

  He made his assistant do the carrying these days as his chronic back injury was acting up again. He was grateful for the job the Cathedral gave him as it paid for his family's lodging and meals. The side job he'd signed on for earned him the money he'd need when his back finally gave out.

  The older man stretched carefully as Baxly watched him nervously, and he hid his smile. It was kind of sweet that his assistant was concerned about his health.

  "Are you going to finish teaching me the ceremonies today? I still don't know all of them and your back looks a little more crooked every day," Baxly said in concern.

  Hemlin's pleased smile soured as he realized his assistant was only worried about his training so he could remain employed when Hemlin was forced to retire.

  With a sigh, he nodded as they climbed down the stairs. "Yes, yes. We'll do it today."

  Baxly dropped the bags on the floor by the door and hustled back upstairs to get the water and cup.

  New arrivals were always thirsty.

  When he heard Baxly climbing back down, he put his key into the outer door's lock and wiggled it before turning the stiff mechanism. It opened with a loud clack and Hemlin pulled it open to rest it back against the wall. Baxly went inside and set the heavy water keg on the stone bench carved into the wall next to the door. A short distance beyond the bench was a counter. This was where the new arrival cards were stacked with the writing implements.

  The younger man lit the torches and stopped when he heard a dull thumping. He turned to look at Hemlin, but the old man just stood inside the door, pointing to the bags of clothes and shoes still in the hall.

  "Did you hear that?" Baxly asked as he hustled to get the bags. These went to the empty space on the counter.

  "What?" Hemlin asked wearily.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The hair on the back of Hemlin's neck stood on end as he locked eyes with Baxly.

  "...hey," a weak voice said from the other side of the door to the catacombs.

  "It's too early," the young man hissed.

  Hemlin flashed a glare at his assistant to hide his own fear. Then he moved to unlock the inner door. He pulled it open and stood aside to let the torchlight shine inside the entrance.

  Baxly squeaked a brief noise as a man with very light-colored hair stood just inside the door, blinking at them as he shielded his eyes. They couldn't tell the color of his hair in the orange glow of the flame, but it was light.

  "How did you get in there?" Hemlin asked.

  "No idea. Woke up here. In one of the alcoves." His voice was very scratchy. "Could I get some water?"

  Hemlin gestured for Baxly to quickly get him a cup as he helped the man walk into the room.

  "It's important you remember when you arrived," Hemlin said, taking the cup from his assistant and placing it in the young man's hands. He watched him swallowing and gestured for Baxly to get the tunic and slippers.

  Hemlin estimated his age to be around mid-twenties. Tall and well-muscled. He'd have to wait until he had better light to make a more accurate assessment of him.

  The man sighed in relief as he handed the cup back. He looked at Hemlin and blinked a few times. "It's good to know my eyes work. Waking up in the dark was a little disturbing." He paused to recall. "I woke up and crawled in the dark to the door and heard someone on the other side locking up and leaving."

  "Which alcove?" Hemlin asked.

  "Uh, the farthest one, at the bottom. I was in the last one. I counted twelve curtains after I went through the one I woke up behind,"

  "Agron!" Baxly gasped and got a sharp glare from Hemlin before the older man turned back to the new arrival.

  "Can you say how long it took you to wake, crawl up the tunnel, and hear us locking up?" he asked again.

  The young man frowned. "I don't know. Not more than ten minutes? Why does that matter?" He suddenly spotted the clothes in Baxly's hands. "Are those for me?"

  Hemlin nodded. "Yes, but we must first see the Gods' marks on your lower back."

  The young man looked at Hemlin in concern. "The what?" Then he turned and tried to look over his shoulder.

  Hemlin and Baxly stared at the area at the base of his spine just above his buttocks, and both men gasped aloud.

  "What? What is it?" the new arrival asked nervously.

  "Three! He's got three! No one's ever gotten more than one!" Baxly yelped.

  "Three what?" the man was getting angry.

  "God's marks. They're like tattoos, but they never fade. The Gods place their mark on the backs of those they bring to our world." Hemlin had a worried look on his face. "It's true. No one has ever had more than one God responsible for bringing them here. But more surprising are the Gods indicated on you. Agron, Ullentra, and Ffornexa haven't sent anyone to us in... generations! Their alcoves are always empty now."

  He turned to frown at Baxly. "Did you confirm all thirteen alcoves were empty after sunset last night?"

  Baxly looked away from the man to glare at Hemlin. "Of course I did! I followed the ritual to the letter. All thirteen were checked, and all thirteen were empty. I did the blessings in each and ensured the mats were ready for the new day."

  Hemlin handed the new arrival the tunic and sandals he took from Baxly's hands. "The timing is significant as the Gods only send new arrivals between sunrise and sunset. Never any other time. Except for you. You must have arrived after sunset as we completed our duties and left the catacombs half an hour after the sun had set last night.”