The inn door swung open and a young man entered, dressed in white like one of those moronic Geborene priests, blond hair falling to his shoulders. Wichtig’s good mood soured. Morgen. Even though he somehow aged ten years, Wichtig recognized the lad.
The godling strode directly to Wichtig’s table and sat across from the Swordsman. Was this part of Bedeckt’s plan?
“Wichtig,” said Morgen.
“Pig sticker,” said Wichtig.
“We need to talk.”
“More you than I,” said Wichtig. Careful, he reminded himself. This little shite is a god.
“It’s Bedeckt,” said Morgen.
Wichtig waved the boy’s words away as if they stank. Sure he was curious, but showing interest was a weakness. No one understood manipulation like Wichtig.
“I see godhood has aged you,” he said.
Morgen tilted his head to one side, examining Wichtig who in turn pretended not to notice the attention. “It’s all about expectations, isn’t it,” said the god, eyes hinting at the howling madness within.
Ascending done little for your sanity, eh? The boy had been horribly tortured by a Slaver-type Gefahrgeist just before he died. Not that he was terribly sane before that. “The Geborene not so eager to follow a child?”
Morgen shrugged. “I am their god. They made me. Their beliefs define me.”
“Neat little trap,” said Wichtig. “A god and yet a slave.” He glanced at Morgen, pretending to spot something. “Got some dirt on your robes.”
Morgen twitched, face twisting in disgust as he searched for the blaspheming smudge. Finding nothing, he scowled at Wichtig’s happy grin.
“A slave in more ways than one,” said the Swordsman.
Morgen took a calming breath. He examined Wichtig with eyes of impossible blue, the first real colour Wichtig saw since his death. The kid’s gaze jumped away like he saw things Wichtig could not. He never focussed on anything for more than a heartbeat.
“A trick,” said Morgen. “Nothing more.”
“Why do you look older than you are? You want your priests to respect you. Looking older is a trick to gain that respect. But their lack of respect is also a trick. Bend yourself to the expectations of others, and you will always be a pawn.” Wichtig grinned perfect teeth. “That is why I am free.”
Morgen gave him a pitying look and Wichtig ignored it. You can’t manipulate me.
“I’m sorry I killed you,” said the Geborene god.
Wichtig kept his calm fa?ade. Inside he felt the growing need to do violence. If I stab him here, will he die? “I think we finally learned what kind of person you are.”
The young man’s shoulders slumped and he stared at the table top, picking at a small imperfection in the wood with manicured fingernails. “They were lying to me,” he whispered.
“Well then, as long as it wasn’t your fault, I guess it’s all fine.” Arsehole.
“Bedeckt is gone,” said Morgen, still entranced by the table. He found another imperfection to worry at.
Wichtig watched. The godling’s need for perfection was a weakness. Such flaws were the pivot upon which Wichtig would tilt the boy. It was too easy.
Then he finally heard what Morgen said. “Gone?” What did gone mean in the Afterdeath?
Morgen shook his head, blond hair clean and straight, barely moving. Wichtig wanted to bury the little shite in a lifetime of hurt and blood.
“He’s alive,” said Morgen.
Wichtig blinked. “Alive?” What the hells?
“He’s not here. Not in the Afterdeath. He is alive.”
The old goat sticker left me here. He abandoned me. Wichtig understood immediately. His trip to Selbsthass was a distraction, nothing more. “I…” He couldn’t find the words. How could Bedeckt abandon me after all I’ve done for him? I’ll kill the bastard.
“He abandoned you,” said Morgen. “Just like when the Therianthropes attacked you in Neidrig. He ran away, left you here. But that’s not all.”
“Not all?”
“He took a great deal of wealth with him. He robbed the Geborene.”
Wichtig’s fists clenched tight. He’s rich and alive and I’m dead and poor. “How?”
“He killed me,” said Morgen. “I had to obey.” The boy showed perfect teeth in a silent snarl of rage. “I trusted him and he betrayed me.”
“Idiot.”
Morgen’s lips cut a hard line, but he didn’t argue. “I want you to go after him.”
Wichtig’s chest tightened but he maintained his calm and bored demeanour. “Why would I help you?”
“Because you aren’t finished yet.”
“Not finished?”
“A dead man can’t be the Greatest Swordsman in the World.”
“I’m the Greatest Swordsman in the Afterdeath,” said Wichtig. The words rang hollow.
“Not the same, is it,” said Morgen. “Want to repay Bedeckt for abandoning you?”
Wichtig shrugged this away like it was nothing. “I’m sure he had his reasons.” And I don’t give a shite what they are.
Morgen leaned forward, staring into Wichtig’s eyes. It was disconcerting. People usually avoided eye contact with Gefahrgeist.
“Still want to be The Greatest Swordsman in the World?” the godling asked.