"Helpers," Walter deadpanned. He expected something a bit more exciting, like learning to conjure fireballs or lightning bolts.

"Yes, helpers," Davy answered. “Did you think a god spends their day searching and collecting stray souls?

Walter looked confused. “Well, yeah? What else would a god do?”

Davy snorted. “Sit around and tell people what to do, mostly. Why, I’ve had plenty o’ gods come to me as if I’m some ferryman.”

“Sounds like I’m not exactly… needed,” Walter replied.

Davy sagged, “Well, the helpers can’t do everything, lad. Sometimes you gotta go yourself. It ain’t a nice job either. Some souls don’t act nice.”

Walter snorted, “I doubt any soul would act nice when a god is coming to take them.”

Davy gave Walter a sidelong glance, “You didn’t act up much.”

Walter opened his mouth to protest. “Well, that’s—”

“Different?” Davy interrupted. “Look, lad. Everyone thinks that they’ll fight long and hard when the end comes. The truth of it is most souls are ready to move on. They’ve had their time and want to see what’s next. It’s a rare soul that fights.”

Walter frowned.

Davy sighed. “But that ain’t what we were doing. Trust me, lad. You need helpers. Now, you’re gonna want something simple. And something that isn’t dangerous. Trust me, you don’t know how many gods make something deadly as their first helper only to get betrayed later.”

Walter nodded. “Got it, something safe. So how do I go about this?”

He still wanted to talk more about the nature of souls, but he could see Davy wasn’t having it.

“Just get a good image in your head of what you want,” Davy answered. “The energy will do the rest. Now, I’m gonna make sure my ship is top-shape. I don’t want to affect your first helper.”

Walter nodded and focused on his divine energy.

Current Assets

Divine Energy on Hand

250

Total Current Assets:

250

Long-Term (Fixed) Assets

Property, Plant, and Equipment

1250

Total Long-Term (Fixed) Assets:

1250

TOTAL ASSETS:

1500

Walter blinked. It looked like his spreadsheet had changed slightly. Nothing extensive, but it was starting to look like a proper balance sheet. Sure, the page needed liabilities and equity, but it wasn’t like Walter had shareholders or debts. Yet.

“Davy?” Walter asked.

Davy stopped picking at a tenacious barnacle that had adhered itself to his ship. “Yeah, lad?”

“Are you able to loan divine energy and recoup it later?”

“I already said ya could,” Davy answered as he pulled a hammer and chisel from nowhere. “If you give a soul some of your divine energy, you can perform tasks through them to gain more energy. It’s generally a bad idea though, lad. Plenty of old gods in your world did such a thing, and it often came back to bite them. The Grecian, or Babylonian or Phoenician, if you want to get more technical, were the worst offenders. They loved to fill souls with their energy and then had to scramble when the mortal turned on them.”

Walter recalled all the stories of Greek demigods and started to understand. “Gotcha. I’ll be cautious.”

“You do that.”

Davy turned back to his ship.

“One more thing,” Walter said as a thought came to him. “Can I give more divine energy to helpers later? Or is it a one-time thing?”

Davy scratched his head with the chisel. “Aye. You can give them more energy later. It’s probably a good idea, too. Keeps your first helpers from falling behind.”

“Perfect, thanks,” Walter answered.

“Hrm,” Davy replied.

Walter watched as the sea god took a hammer and chisel to the barnacles. These barnacles must’ve been stronger than others because Walter recalled sailors using a plastic scraper to remove ones on their boats. He’d seen it once when they stopped at the Out Islands near the Bahamas.

It had been such a great cruise up until Walter’s fall. Again, the man put the thought out of his mind and attempted to focus on his new task. He needed a helper, something that would ferry souls into his cove.

The image of Charon, the Greek ferryman of death, appeared in Walter’s head. He immediately dismissed the idea. Walter wasn’t a fan of some skeletal figure taking people to his cove. He wanted the journey to be peaceful. Dying was already scary enough.

A mausoleum manifested in Walter’s mind next. He’d always felt they were peaceful places, though they were filled with solemnity more than contentment. Plus, a mausoleum wasn’t living, and Walter had difficulty imagining a living mausoleum that wasn’t cartoonish.

No, his helper would need to be a living thing, that was for sure. And it couldn’t be something Walter traditionally aligned with death. His mind flashed with images of the cruise ship, and he tried to push them away. Instead, he remembered when he went on deck to see the dolphins that appeared. The energetic creatures would make for great ferrymen.

But Davy had also said not to make the helper a predator, and Walter knew dolphins ate fish. He filed the idea for later when he had more experience in this whole thing.

Maybe another sea animal, one that was vegetarian. Unfortunately, Walter didn’t have a clue which sea animals were herbivores. Though, he bet Davy would know.

Walter turned to his mentor. “Hey, Davy?”

“One second, lad,” Davy answered.

Walter looked over to see the god tugging a clam by the tongue to place in a porthole. He was so surprised he almost forgot his question when Davy finished his work.

“You alright, lad?” Davy asked.

Walter shook his head. “Yeah, fine. Sorry. Still not used to all this.”

The man gestured to the ship and his domain.

“Aye, understandable,” Davy answered. “Though you’re catching on quick. So, what did you need?”

“Do you know any vegetarian sea animals? I wanted to use dolphins but remembered they were predators.”

Davy nodded. “And right mischievous too. Knew another god who used dolphins once. Ended up getting into a war with another sea god because his dolphins kept playing pranks. Caused some great flood in the end.”

Walter’s eyes widened. “Okay, no dolphins then. What could I use?”

“Well,” Davy mused. He tugged at his starfish eyepatch. “There are some snails, but they’ll be slow no matter how much you try to fix that. Plenty of fish eat algae and such. Though you might have to twist your mind a bit to get them to swim in anything other than water. Turtles would work. They’re faster than snails in the sea but might have problems on land.”

Walter nodded along as Davy explained. He threw the fish idea out the window when he heard it. Fish ferrymen just didn’t appeal to him. Snails and turtles sounded interesting, but snails had problems moving. It might not matter if the snail could house a lot of souls, but Walter suspected he needed something quick early on.

That left the turtle, which also had issues on land. Walter suspected he could get around that. In fact, the turtle also allowed for upgrading later, Walter imagining a crafted mausoleum resting atop the turtle’s shell. Multiple souls would sit safely in the animal as it traveled back to the cove.

Getting around the slow land speeds would take some imagination, but Walter already knew tortoises were fast when they wanted to be. A turtle was likely the same.

The image started to form in Walter’s mind. The shell came first, an oval disk patterned in the same aquamarine as the cove’s crystals. The body came next, sketched out in real-time like the speed painters Walter watched when he needed background noise. Four flippers formed under the shell, green like algae and reflecting the light. The head came next, a serene face with onyx eyes that reassured those who stared into them.

More details came as Walter focused. The shell started to twist, small coffin patterns, raised slightly for depth, formed around a miniature crypt of aquamarine. The flippers gained small hooks to grip the land, allowing the turtle to jump. The head gained a spark of intelligence as its purpose formed under the onyx eyes.

Walter felt the rest of his divine energy leave him, coalescing into the new beast that appeared before him. It landed softly in its creator’s arms and looked up with a pleading expression.

“Squeak?” the turtle cried.

Walter held the beast in his hands and looked at his spreadsheet.

Current Assets

Divine Energy on Hand

0

Total Current Assets:

0

Long-Term (Fixed) Assets

Long-Term Investments (property)

1250

Intangible Assets

250

Total Long-Term (Fixed) Assets:

1500

TOTAL ASSETS:

1500

It seemed his spreadsheet interpreted his helper as an intangible asset.

“I half expected you to get marked under wages payable or something, but you aren’t exactly a liability, are you?” Walter questioned his helper.

“Coo?” the turtle squeaked.

Actually, thinking about it, Walter likely wouldn’t have to worry about payroll at all. He wasn’t exactly selling any goods, meaning pay wouldn’t be a part of it. At least, Walter hoped that was the case. He had always hated having to remember which accounts to credit and which ones to debit in his accounting classes.

Walter’s train of thought arrived at a new station. “Davy?”

“What, lad? Got a question about your new helper?”

Walter wobbled his head uncertainly. “Maybe? I wanted to know, is it possible to automate some of this?”

“Automate?” Davy asked.

“Like, set it up so the little guy here gets divine energy every so often. Like a paycheck.”

Davy tugged at his starfish eyepatch in thought. “I’ve never tried it, lad, but I don’t see why you couldn’t. Be careful about that, though. You don’t want to give too much energy away.”

Walter nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

The man turned back to his newest creation.

“Coo?” the turtle squeaked in question.

“You need a name, little guy,” Walter said. “I can’t just call you turtle.”

“Why not?” Davy asked. “That’s what it is.”

“They’re not just a turtle!” Walter said in mock shock. “They’re my helper! And helpers deserve a name!”

The little turtle raised a flipper in agreement. “Squeak!”

Davy raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, lad.”

“I’ll name you Flipper,” Walter said to the turtle.

“Squeak!” Flipper answered. They jumped out of Walter’s arms and into one of the cove pools. Walter went after them, laughing as Flipper slapped water at Davy.

“I don’t think he likes you very much,” Walter joked.

Davy snorted. “He don’t gotta like me. He should like you.”

Flipper jumped out of the pool towards Walter’s chest.

“Oof!” Walter gasped as he caught a turtle with his chest.

Flipper rubbed up against his creator and squeaked softly.

“Doesn’t look like I need to worry about him liking me,” Walter commented.

“Hrm,” Davy replied.