Gathering of the Chosen by Timothy L. Cerepaka

that at the time many criminals were
friends or family members of government officials, who often turned
a blind eye to their criminal activities as a personal favor to
them.
    As a result, injustice ran rampant all
over the island until a group of Grinfian Monks, tired of the crime
and their inefficient government, formed their own group dedicated
to bringing justice called the Judges of Justice. Their modus
operandi was to send vague, yet threatening, letters to various
well-known and minor criminals alike, written to sound like they
had been dictated by Grinf himself, telling the criminals to give
up their evil ways, lest they invite the wrath of Grinf himself
upon them.
    When—inevitably—the criminals would
disregard the letters' warning, then the Judges struck. They used a
combination of magic and trickery, first to scare the unrepentant
criminals, and then to kill them. Often, the Judges wouldn't even
bother to hand the criminals over to the authorities, mostly
because of their distrust of the government's ability to properly
punish lawbreakers.
    Eventually, most criminals would cease
whatever they were doing as soon as they received a letter from the
Judges of Justice, even though the letters were always unsigned and
delivered anonymously. The fierce reputation of the Judges
themselves caused the crime rate to fall year after year, until a
religious reform united the entire Carnagian people under the
principles of Grinf, which led to the government taking the matter
of arresting and punishing lawbreakers more seriously. The Judges
then disbanded, though many of their letters were in the Carnagian
Vault and had been reprinted as Scripture that was still read by
many Carnagians today.
    That was what this letter reminded Raya
of. It was almost like the Judges of old had sent her a letter from
beyond the grave. Only, Raya was pretty sure that this letter
wasn't written by a bunch of ghosts.
    Unless Braim wrote it, but he doesn't
seem like the kind of guy to do that, Raya thought.
    She considered telling her parents about
this letter, but then Raya decided that they didn't need to know.
It was probably just a very strange prank. Maybe it was the work of
the God of Jokes and Pranks. Or maybe one of the katabans who lived
in the city had sent it to her as a bizarre joke that only a
katabans would understand.
    So Raya walked over to the trash bin near
the writing desk on the other side of the room and held the letter
above it. She then drew a match from her dress pockets—she always
carried a few around—lit it in one stroke and then held it under
the corner of the letter.
    The flame rapidly ate away at the letter,
until soon it was nothing more than a pile of ash in the trash. She
did the same to the envelope, thus eliminating all traces of the
mysterious letter.
    And now it's time for bed, Raya
thought as she picked up her thrown fish, which was still wrapped
in the paper towel. After I finish my snack, of course.
    ***
     

Chapter Six
     
    O ne moment, Carmaz, Saia, and
Tinkar stood in the now-empty village of the crustaceans. The next,
all three of them stood in the center of Carmaz and Saia's
hometown, which was called Conewood. Not only that, but a cursory
look at his body showed Carmaz that Tinkar had somehow also managed
to heal him during the teleportation. Saia looked much better as
well, so much so that he was able to stand on his own without any
trouble.
    But Carmaz's stomach immediately rebelled,
causing him to grab it with both hands and moan involuntarily. He
had no idea where this sudden sickness came from because he hadn't
been feeling sick at all earlier. He hadn't even had much to eat
today, so what was his stomach trying to get rid of?
    “Teleportation can often have unintended
side effects on humans who are not used to it,” Tinkar said. “I
assume you have never teleported before, Carmaz?”
    Carmaz looked up at Tinkar with annoyance.
“Yes, though I thought you'd know that, seeing as you gods