How to Be a God [ManXMan]

Chapter Twenty-Six: Meet-and-Greet

~Chapter Twenty-Six: Meet-and-Greet~

The text from Vepkoadur arrives at three in the morning the next day. Staying up late in this apartment feels odd, as I rarely went to sleep past eleven, so it is a bit of a struggle not to climb under the sheets for a few hours of rest. However, with a little help from my magic – which I am intentionally using more of – I forced myself to remain awake with Ullr, who insisted on showing me random videos on Youtube to pass the time. At one point, he even showed me the video of my release from the statue; some of the comments were quite offensive, while others merely expressed their disbelief and 'proof' that the video was faked.

How can something real be proved false?

Since I cannot take my eyes off Ullr's laptop screen – he brought it with him when he invited himself over while I was away – I blindly reach for his phone on the floor between us when it starts vibrating and attempt to answer it before I realize it is actually a text, not a call. Ullr pauses the video of an interesting dance with people who glow in the dark, some of which reminds me of some pranks the Fae and I would play on mortals centuries ago. Back then, anything that glowed unnaturally was scary; now, it is adored.

"Where are they?" Ullr asks, jaw clenched in unease.

"A beach," I mutter, squinting at the picture. The lighting in the picture looks artificial, which means Vepkoadur was either using flash or there are lights set up to keep the area from being too dark. However, it hardly matters what he used; what matters is that the beach looks clear of obstacles that might hurt if I hit them while teleporting. I show Ullr the picture. "Some place called Point Dume. Have you been there?"

Though Ullr trusts me to take care of myself – and Maelgwyn to help if anything goes wrong – he still insisted that he come along, albeit a little later, giving them a chance to warm up to me before introducing someone new. However, his plan will only work if Ullr has been to that area before, as he cannot just teleport off a picture like I can.

Ullr looks it up on his computer and shakes his head. "Nope, though I have been to Malibu before, which is near the beach."

"How long would it take you to reach the beach?"

The Norse god fiddles with the computer for a moment, bringing up another version of the map, this time with bright lines and little upside-down water drops with numbers. "About ten, fifteen minutes tops," Ullr says, closing the computer. "I'm surprised they chose to do it on a beach; most beaches close at sundown."

"You can close beaches?" I inquire in disbelief, wondering why, and how, someone would shut down a beach.

Ullr shrugs. "It's a human thing. Something about safety, or maybe they don't have enough lifeguards to cover the shifts."

His explanation only brings up more questions, but I decide against asking, as I doubt 'lifeguards' will come up at any point today. "Maelgwyn," I call, waking the slumbering hound that is curled up on my bed. The hound's ears perk up and he groggily glares at me, but he does eventually jump off the bed and stumble ungracefully over to us. I would find it funny if the situation was not so serious...actually, it is funny, serious time or not. "We are going."

Sending a quick text back to Vepkoadur, warning him of my 'dog' companion, I stand up and stretch, wincing slightly when my lower back cracks loudly. "See you in a little while," Ullr promises, mockingly saluting as I firmly grab the back of Maelgwyn's fluffy neck. Calling upon my magic and picturing the beach takes but a second of practiced focus before then the world flashes black.

The darkness lasts less than a second before the feeling of sand under my feet – Zeus be damned, I forgot my shoes – becomes apparent and Maelgwyn shakes himself to free his scruff from my tense grip. The world comes into focus a second later and I find myself staring at the faces of, at least, thirty people with a background of rocky cliffs and large stadium lights. A third of them are outright gaping, though I am not certain if it is because of me or the giant hound glaring menacingly at the wide half-circle of people in front of us.