Page 50 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope
But this was different.
Instead of bored business executives hoping to maintain their health by paying their dues on the long row of treadmills, the participants in tonight's ceremony hoped to join the ranks of the immortals by facing one of them on the wrestling mat.
The paranormals filed in with expressions ranging from nervous to excited. Jeremy led the group, elected as their unofficial leader. Behind him came Spencer and Dylan, who were also trying one more time to be induced. James and Mollie entered holding hands, while Abigail, Sofia, and Naomi walked in chatting among themselves and looking nervous.
The door opened again, and Kian entered with Anandur and Brundar flanking him like bookends of opposite temperaments—one grinning broadly, the other wearing his usual stoicexpression. Carol followed, catching Lokan's eye and giving him a smile that could melt ice.
Kian took a bag from Anandur that Lokan hadn't noticed him carrying and pulled out a bottle of wine. "I've been thinking about why the inductions didn't work before. Maybe we've been too casual about it and offended the Fates. We shouldn't have skipped the ritual. It has always been part of the process."
"You surprise me." Lokan took the sleeve of paper cups that Anandur handed him. "You're usually too pragmatic and skeptical to believe that a ceremony might change the outcome."
Kian set the wine on a bench and started separating the paper cups. "Over the past five years, I've gradually changed from a skeptic to a believer. If there's even a sliver of a chance that the ceremony is what's been missing, it's worth the few extra minutes it will take."
Anandur clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the gym. "Any excuse for a party, right? Even a small one with crappy sweet wine in paper cups."
"It's not crappy," Kian protested. "It's ceremonial wine."
Anandur shrugged. "That doesn't make it taste any better, and it still goes into paper cups."
Lokan studied Kian's face, wondering if Carol had told the boss about his crisis of confidence after his failures to induce the paranormals. He'd started to believe there was something fundamentally wrong with his venom, despite everyone's assurances that being three-quarters god should make it the most potent available.
But Kian didn't look like he was humoring anyone. He seemed genuinely convinced that the wine and the traditional words would make a difference. Lokan didn't want to mention that the Brotherhood never bothered with a ceremony or wine. The induction ceremony at thirteen years of age was a brutal and humiliating affair, and the young dormant males subjected to it still managed to transition to immortality.
Lokan had been born immortal because his mother was a goddess, and so had Kalugal, but Navuh had manipulated everyone to believe that they'd gone through a privately held induction ceremony like all his other so-called sons.
"Alright, everyone, gather round," Kian said. "We're going to do this properly this time."
The paranormals formed a loose semicircle, their partners standing beside them.
"Before we begin," Kian said, pouring wine into the small cups Carol was distributing, "I want to make something clear. Whether this works or not, you've all shown tremendous courage by coming here, trusting us, and being willing to go out on a limb."
"Hear, hear," Anandur boomed, already holding his cup high.
Kian cast him a reproachful look and then cleared his throat. "We are gathered here to present these brave three souls to their elders." His voice carried a formal cadence. "They stand ready to attempt transition into immortality, if the Fates will it. I vouch for each of them as being worthy of the honor."
The atmosphere in the gym shifted, became charged with something that hadn't been there during the previous attempts.Even Anandur seemed to stand straighter, taking the ceremony seriously.
"Jeremy, please come forward," Kian continued. "Who volunteers to take on the burden of initiating Jeremy into immortality?"
"I do." Anandur raised his hand.
Kian nodded. "Jeremy, do you accept Guardian Anandur as your initiator? As your mentor and protector, to honor him with your friendship, your respect, and your loyalty from this day forward?"
Jeremy glanced at Naomi, who squeezed his hand encouragingly. "I do," he said.
"Does anyone have any objections to Jeremy becoming Anandur's protégé?"
Silence filled the gym, but it was supportive rather than awkward.
"Then let's seal it with a toast." Kian raised his paper cup. "To Jeremy and Anandur."
"To Jeremy and Anandur," everyone echoed, taking sips of the ceremonial wine.
Lokan had to admit that the ceremony made a difference. Before, there had been a clinical efficiency to the induction—get in, inject the venom, wait for results. This had weight to it, a meaning beyond two guys on the mat, one with fangs and the other without.
"Now then, ready to dance, Jeremy?" Anandur asked, his grin tempered with purpose. "I promise I'll go easy on you."
"Define 'easy,'" Jeremy said, managing a nervous laugh.
