Those Who Would Not Be Gods

13. Reject: Raff

Sab peered around the bar. It was mostly empty, this morning. Too early for most. But not for his friend. A familiar ponytail of curls was moping at the end of the bar, head dipped into his mug. He slid in beside Raff and caught Marco's eye, then gave him a little shake of his head. Not this early. Not for him.

Raff barely acknowledged him, giving him a grunt before sipping at the beer again.

"What happened? Did the trial go poorly?" Sab asked. It was unusual for Raff to be in a bad mood like this, much less go drinking to solve it. Something terrible must have happened. "I missed the first half of the trials—fifteen laps—but Cecile didn't see you, either, so..."

"Fucking Cecile," Raff grumbled and tipped his mug back. He gestured at Marco for a refill.

Sab furrowed his brows. Where was that coming from? "Alright, so what's happening? Did you miss the trials or something?"

Raff looked up at him for the first time. His eyes were slightly red, though from alcohol or emotion he couldn't tell. "Got disqualified," he complained.

Sab sucked in a breath. No. "But Cecile was there..." he said, trying to process the situation.

A shake of his head. Raff turned back to his mug and tried to take another sip, but it was empty. He gave it a sour look. "Cecile's special," he replied. "And Matteo 'ates me, or something."

"I'm sorry," Sab said, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye. "I shouldn't have suggested going into the tunnel. I didn't mean to get you disqualified." He looked down and started to say something more, then bit his lip. "Should've known better. I'm old enough, for Ignis' sake."

Raff shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Matteo 'ad already decided I wasn' good enough. Too 'immature,'" he said, saying the last two words with as condescending a voice as he could muster.

"Oh. Well, in that case..."

Raff shot him a dirty look. Sab shook his head again. "No. I'm sorry. I really am. I can't imagine it didn't influence his decision, our little journey."

There was a pause. Marco refilled Raff's mug. He gave Sab a look, but Sab shook his head again, so with a shrug, he retreated.

"He lied," Raff said suddenly. "I've been thinking. There's something down there."

"What?" Sab asked.

Raff looked up at him, a strange sort of clarity in his eyes. "He said they'd locked a lich-'ing down there. Undead can't use magic."

Sab stared at him, trying to figure out his point. Then it dawned on him. "So why have the whole magic-channeling room set up...?" he said slowly.

"Right. There's something else down there. Something..." He paused and shook his head. "No, he wasn' lying. The way he said it... I don't think he knows what's down there. I don't think anyone knows." Raff gave Sab a slow smile. "It could be anything. Could even be the Lost Godstone."

"Too bad we'll never know," Sab sighed.

The door thumped behind them as someone else entered. Raff scooted closer to Sab. "Why not? I already got dis-disqualified," he whispered. "What're they gonna do?"

Sab's face turned stern. "Raff. You're not thinking straight. They could kick you out of the guard altogether. You can't ruin your whole life over this."

"But if we found the Lost Godstone," Raff said. "Think about it, Sab. Who'd care what Matteo thought? I'd be the one."

"You think it's down there?" Cecile asked.