***The World***

***King Luxley***

“My kingdom is falling apart, old man, and all you can tell me is that you don't know what's going on?” I rave from atop my throne, hopefully sounding as mad as I am. “My family held this kingdom together for two hundred years and I am not going to be the last king of Sur! Give me a proper explanation! How can a strong kingdom slide to the edge of a civil war in a matter of weeks!”

Reginald, my most trusted advisor and the court's mage bows deeply. “I am very sorry that I can't offer you a better explanation, my king. I shared all of my reliable findings in my report.”

I shake my head. “That report reads like a child's story, or the diary of a madman. How am I supposed to believe that the gods are suddenly real and that prayers work!? It's been centuries since the fall of the Mirai Empire and their necromantic empress. They called her a goddess, but I am pretty sure that she was just an exceptional necromancer.”

“There are stories of her appearing wherever she wished to.” The old mage sighs and clasps his hands in front of him. He almost looks defeated. “I am very sorry, but in all my years I haven't experienced anything like this. I wouldn't have believed it myself, hadn't I stood witness to the appearance of such a deity, even if it was just a minor one. All I can tell you is that the gods are real.

“Apparently, the rules of the world as we know it have changed. Magical power and strength are no longer the final solutions. Every random commoner may mutter a prayer, and if spoken with enough conviction, he or she can summon powers beyond our ken. It's not so much about having the power yourself, begging for it is enough. By searching through the testimonies of eyewitnesses, I narrowed it down to the point that I can say that emotional distress is helpful in summoning these beings.”

He spreads his hands, helpless. “I have tried my magic against one of these gods, Nazareth, a minor deity according to his own words, but he just laughed at me. The worst thing was that I felt it. He was so far beyond me, I couldn't even scratch him had I trained my skills for another lifetime.

“And it's incorrect to say that all the gods are suddenly real. There seem to be one or two dozen of them at the most. Whatever the world went through to change the rules, it didn't awaken all the gods.”

Two dozen beings who are strong enough to laugh in Reginald's face? The man might be old, a withered bag of raw leather, but I would never underestimate his magical abilities. If these gods are indeed that powerful, then they may be capable of tearing the world apart.

“There is nothing we can do about them?” I ask.

Reginald closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Someone changed the rules of the world and we have to learn to live with it. From what Nazareth said, I assume that the gods themselves aren't happy with this development.”

“How!?” I ask, almost begging him. “I can't rule a country in which every peasant has the ability to wish away the tax-collector or to escape prison. What do I do if someone manages to send one of these gods after me?”

“Luckily, it isn't quite that easy,” Reginald answers thoughtfully. “Something compels the gods to answer our prayers, but they have their own goals and personalities. The word of them is spreading, we can't change that. But the people are also slowly becoming aware that summoning a god can backfire as much as it can save you.”

“Is that because you chose a minor deity for your summoning experiment?” I ask.

He shakes his head again and wanders to the throne room's large window front, looking outside. “I studied the reports, and I chose Nazareth because he was the god who was the least likely to react badly to a prayer. Out of a hundred testimonies, he only once cursed the one who brought him into our world. Compared to that, calling upon something like Ascathon will almost assuredly get you killed. It's much like calling a mythical djinn for a wish with that one. You may state your wish with as much detail as you want, the result will always be bad.”

I lean back in my chair. “That doesn't make it better. Should we just run away and hide then? Crawl deep into some cave and hope that nobody harbours a grudge strong enough to sic an unstoppable entity on us? I already forbade the citizens to call upon the gods, but clearly, it isn't as easy as that. One can't forbid a dying man to mutter a prayer of hope.”

Reginald looks thoughtful and licks his lips in consideration. “There is one possibility, but I am not sure if it will work.”

“Tell me.” I wave my hand towards the window. “Look outside. Truly look at what my country is turning into. My city is burning. The capital! How can it get any worse?”

The old man furrows his forehead, studying the scene. The people are on the streets, rioting. Columns of smoke are rising into the horizon, marking the burning slums.

Finally, he decides to speak. “The rules have changed, my king. This is a different world from the one we are used to. But if the rules are different, then maybe it's not a matter of them, but of us.”

I tilt my head, not understanding.

Reginald clarifies himself, “If we can't do something about the new rules, then we have to adapt to them. Maybe it's as easy as to choose a patron for ourselves.”

“A patron?”

He nods. “If we can't stop the gods, then our only choice is to get the protection of one, is it not?”

Trying to get that thought into my head, I slowly nod. “But which one? Is it as easy as to start praying to the god of my choosing?”

The old man shrugs. “That's why I didn't want to share the idea. It's just a theory. But a list of all the gods and their ideologies is in my report.”

***The Crystal City***

***Ascathon***

“What are you reading?” Marigold steps closer, trying to see the cover of the book in my hands.

Looking up, I study him and survey the other deities in Studio 7. There are currently two groups present and both of them hold a respectful distance from me. The place became something like a meeting area for everyone who got caught up in Tjenemit's experiment. It's a place where the others tend to share information and bitch about their bad luck.

My own reason for being here is information. Hopefully, I can listen in on something interesting regarding my current situation.

I show him the cover. Normally, I would try to give away as little as possible, but I am relatively sure that Marigold is not a friend of the Council. The two of us aren't the best of buddies, but I know him well enough. I am also just trying to understand my situation, something I can't be blamed for. And if in a day or two Tjenemit shows up to reprimand me for my choice of reading material, I know who is the snitch.

Better to know my enemies before I try something for real.

“One hundred and one ways to have fun with a succubus... without losing your soul,” he reads, baffled. “I knew that you are into the kinky stuff, but is it really wise to play around with a thing like that? Travelling to one of the infernal dimensions can be dangerous, even for a god.”

“Oh, don't worry. The book-cover is just there to trick anyone who might be a little too interested in what I am up to, like Tjenemit. But you are my fellow inmate, so you can know,” I whisper, trying to sound conspiratorial.

“So you don't want to bang a succubus?” The half-orc sounds a little disappointed.

I never knew that he had a fetish like that... but that's something I can easily help with.

“I already did! Who do you think is the author of Succubus 101?” I shake my head. “Marigold, if you want advice on that front, then I can suggest a nice castle on the Plane of Pleasures. The ruler is a succubus queen with forty-one daughters. Believe me, one night there and you are cured of all worldly desires.”

“Really!? There is a dimension like that!?” His voice raises an octave, but then he reigns in his excitement. “I err... don't think that I would be able to deal with that much attention. But back to the topic at hand. What are you really reading?”

“World Enchantments for Dummies, by Jahwe.” I carefully reveal the true cover to him. “I must admit that I never concerned myself with world enchantments, or how to break them. I really have to start from scratch and I found out that there are so many things you can do with world enchantments. I might have found a topic that keeps me interested for another decade or two.”

Marigold's expression turns concerned and he looks back at the other deities. “You shouldn't break Tjenemit's experiment. I doubt that he will be pleased,” the half-orc whispers.

“Nobody said that I'll break his little experiment,” I clarify, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to know how I can break it – should the need arise. “By the way, have you ever read this book? This Jahwe is a real vain bastard. He is into all that omnipotence crap, watching mortals suffer while laughing his ass off. And he made this whole heaven and hell thing on his Earth, pulling the souls of mortals into separate dimensions, just so that he can judge how they lived their lives, just for shit and giggles. The two of us would probably get along just fine.”

“Why would any god want to do that?” Marigold asks with an expression of genuine bewilderment. “Doesn't he have more interesting stuff to do? Like, godly matters?”

I shrug. “I don't know. Maybe it's what gets him off?”

“Anyway, let's change the topic.” I wave my hand and close the book. “How are you guys doing?”

Marigold lets his head hang. “Same as always. It's so humiliating to be summoned like some minor familiar to do some mortal's bidding.”

“Ever tried just killing them?” I ask. “Works great for me as a stress relief.”

Marigold spreads his hands and allows them to flop to his sides in a gesture of exasperation. “A few times. I have to guide the animalistic races on the warpath and some of them simply don't get the hint without cracking a head or two. Especially the orks, I hate orks.”

“But you are an ork,” I point out.

He looks at me.

“Half-ork,” I correct myself.

“That's the problem,” he affirms.

Pulling a face, I try to imagine how it must feel like to be the deity for a group of racist bullies who loot, pillage and rape their path through the world's history. I had a few dealings of my own with the world's tribes and I quickly learned that working through a third party is the only way to avoid most of the troubles which occur with that race.

In my days as the necromantic bane, I even supported the tribes in order to weaken my enemies. It worked, but in the end I had to admit that other solutions may have been better in the long run. The orks as a race are prideful enough to defy even gods.

It goes without saying that defying me wasn’t their best decision in the end, but I had to exterminate them with extreme prejudice, and that meant nuking them till the soil glowed – without giving a shit about bystanders.

“Yeah, I think I get your point,” I answer after considering his situation. “Maybe you should celebrate a culling or two. The orks tend to listen to those who burned down one or two of their villages. Oh, I know!” I raise my book and open the passage I was just reading. “This spell here automatically calls down rocks and lava on any who refuse to pray to you… or no… this one! An unending flood that drowns everything in the vicinity.”

I consider it for a moment. “Or better not that last one. I am all in for mass murder, but that spell isn’t localized to a town or a village. It gets everything, animals included. Man, Jahwe was a real asshole now that I think about it. Not even I walk around and drown poor, helpless animals. He is a god, so he really could have come up with a better solution.”

Marigold clears his throat. “Yeah, well I suppose I’ll go and take a look at what my brother is doing.”

“Nazareth? Where is the little imp?” I survey the room, noticing for the first time that Marigold’s better half is missing. They never told me the story of how one of the brothers became a half-orc and the other a gnome. Are they brothers in the sense of a ritual, like blood-brothers? Best friends? Bros? Or is their relationship on the warmer side of business?

Then again, they could also have been real brothers at some point and then they reincarnated into new bodies. It’s really hard to tell who drew the worse card should that be the case. Being a gnome or an orc would be one of the few cases in which I would consider suicide in earnest. No wonder Marigold perked up at my mention of succubi.

“Don’t know. He was teleported away by the world enchantment before you arrived,” Marigold interrupts my silent musings.

Feeling bad for him, I materialize a book and a business card with details on how to reach the Plane of Pleasures. “Take that, and mention my name when you are there. That will lower the chances that they will suck you dry.”

Marigold takes the book and stores it away in his own pocket dimension. After a brief glance at the business card which shows the golden letters “P. o. P.” in elaborate calligraphy, the card quickly follows the book. “I really have to go now.”

Grinning, I slap him on the shoulder. “Have fun.”

Then I watch him disappear in a flash of light and a few sparks. The web of energy that makes up the pathways glows for a few moments before the lights fade out and I am left to my own devices. Looking at the other deities in the room, I don’t feel like socializing too much, so I take a pathway back to my lair.

I appear in the long corridor which doubles as an entrance hall. Since it’s long and wide enough, it may as well be counted as its own room.

Distant sounds from the living room quickly guide me to where Karin is busily taking notes in some textbook while Willow is playing tutor with a second version of the book, pointing out certain passages. The both of them are in blue sports suits, sitting on the ground while working on a knee-high oaken table.

Normally, it wouldn’t be comfortable to sit on the marble floor, but I installed floor heating throughout the whole facility which ensures a comfortable temperature.

I smile. “Hi, girls. I am back.”

Karin gasps when she sees me and jumps to her feet. Before Willow can stop her, she is up and over the table, coming to a halt right in front of me. “Change me back!”

“No.”

“Why not!?” She points at her temples. “Do you see that!? Horns! And my eyes! I look like some freakish Kamera!”

“Chimera, child,” Willow corrects the girl while getting up herself. “It’s called a chimera, a conglomeration of different creatures.”

“I don’t care what it’s called,” Karin replies.

I tilt my head, studying her. “The horns are cute and the eyes look interesting. I don’t get what the problem is.” Walking around the girl, I take a glance at the textbooks before I sit down on the nearby couch, enjoying the comfort of my home. The living room is a square-shaped space of ten by ten metres with marble flooring and oaken furniture with turquoise padding.

She follows me. “You are lying. I look like some stitched together hatched-job!”

Well, she isn’t completely wrong about that. On both occasions when I gave her power-ups, I just took what was available at the moment. There was no planning or deeper goal behind my actions.

“You look cute. No immortal would ever comment on your unique looks, so just chill,” I murmur, sinking into the mattress. “Or do you want me to give you a tail? I am good with those.”

“Tail!?” she squeaks.

“Please don’t include her into your strange fetishes, master,” Willow steps forward and sits down next to me, linking arms. “How did it go? Are you finally ready to explain what’s going on?”

I sigh. “Fine, but I have to warn you. It will take a while.”

“Before that,” Karin points at the two of us. “What’s the exact relationship between you two, and are there any others coming to this facility?”

“Silly, I already told you that I am in his service,” Willow answers and points down at the floor. “Why don’t you sit down and listen carefully while the adults talk. You might get some answers to your questions, and then we can resume our attempts at filling that bottomless hole you call an education.”

Karin groans and looks at the textbooks with desperation in her eyes.

“Why don’t you put her into the neural learning machine? It should be much quicker than teaching her the basics the old-fashioned way,” I suggest.

“There is a machine like that!?” The girl perks up and glares at her tutor.

“What he didn’t mention, is that it feels like someone stabbed a hot fork into your brain and is turning it around,” Willow informs Karin.

Which quickly ends in a change of heart for the unwilling student. “Never mind, we aren’t going to do that.” And then her accusing glare turns to me. “Just for the future, you should mention side-effects.”

“He never bothers mentioning those.” Willow looks down at herself and picks at her snow-white hair.

I look up at the ceiling, slowly feeling fed up. “Can I give you the update on our situation now? Or do you prefer to keep bickering? In that case, I would make myself something to eat until you are done.”

“I am sorry, master,” Willow apologizes. “Please tell us what's going on. You have been strangely absent recently. I began to worry.”