Chapter 3:
God’s Message and My Hope of Friendship
NOW THAT I’D DECIDED to send a prophecy, I needed to figure out how to word it. Would persuading them to be more friendly with me be the right approach? This felt like cheating—putting words into their god’s mouth—but I decided not to think too hard about it. I pulled out my phone and typed out a draft message.
“My dear followers. Thank you for taking care of my disciple. I would ask that you treat him kindly as one of your own. That is my will.”
Tonally, maybe a little off. I didn’t know if the God of Fate would make such a shallow request—if shallow was even the right word. But I guess I had asked for love advice before.
Was it right for a god to try to cozy up with his followers? Maybe I should put more majesty into the request and make it sound more like a duty.
At this rate, I’d just end up thinking myself into knots.
“Yoshio, you look weird.”
“Oh! Sorry.” I’d almost forgotten Carol was with me. I should get back to work and ponder the prophecy while I dug.
“I gotta go back to work, Carol. What are you up to?”
“I’m gonna help Mommy! Then I’m gonna make Gams spend time with me!”
No mention of Rodice. I felt bad for him. Carol had spent most of her first day back with her parents, but by day two she was all about Gams again. I was pretty jealous of Gams, not to mention Rodice. I’d only spent a week with Carol, but she was the most special of all my villagers to me. There was nothing unseemly about my feelings. I saw her like a daughter of my own.
“Oh, does God have any messages for us? Everyone’s worried because there are no new prophecies in the book.”
Wait, was Carol on to me?
“Everyone’s really excited to get another one, too, ’cause it’s been ages!”
Of course, what was I thinking? Her question was entirely innocent. My villagers had been missing their holy book for a week. That meant no prophecies and no miracles. On top of losing everything, they could no longer feel the presence of their god. No wonder they were anxious.
I couldn’t send a prophecy for selfish reasons. If I wanted my relationship with the villagers to improve, I had to put in the work myself. Having made up my mind, I changed the approach to my next prophecy. I’d express my relief that they were all safe and tell them to make good use of the disciple the God of Fate sent.
“Could you let Chem know there’ll be a prophecy soon? The Lord told me earlier that He was going to send one,” I said.
“Oh! You can talk to God with that glowing block! Right! I’ll go tell her!” Carol waved as she raced away. I waved back and then got down to business.
“My dear followers, I am immeasurably pleased to see you all safe and to witness your brilliant triumph over adversary. Be assured that I will afford my protection to all the village’s new arrivals. My disciple will remain with you for a time. Please put him to work as you would any other member of the village; he has no need of special treatment. That will help him feel more at ease.”
This was my first prophecy in a while and I was a little rusty, but I knew my villagers would kindly overlook any sloppy word choice.
I had to get to work on my own relationship with the villagers. I could only just remember the new names and family compositions; I had a long road ahead of me. I should start with my original five, plus Kan and Lan. Murus was openly avoiding me, so I’d leave her alone for now. She’d come and find me when she felt ready to.
“Guess I’ll start with the pandas.”
And I didn’t just choose them to steal a chance to touch their fluffy fur or because just looking at them improved my mood. More because that while they believed in the God of Fate, their faith wasn’t particularly passionate. They were generally reserved as well, so getting to know them shouldn’t take too much conversation.
I stepped out of my tent and immediately felt the stares. I smiled at the villagers, doing my best not to let my mouth twitch. They bowed as one before scattering in every direction. I was left all alone, my only company the cold wind whipping leaves past my feet. My heart felt empty. Being special and respected wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.