God’s Perspective

As they drew near the altar, Megara's heart began to race, an inexplicable sense of unease creeping through her. The towering totem stood majestically, carved from solid cedar, its surface etched with symbols and divine imagery that seemed to pulse with life. The figure depicted on the totem was none other than Andriel, the god of imagination, with arms outstretched as though cradling the world itself. His face was carved with delicate precision, radiating compassion, his deep-set eyes gazing down with both wisdom and kindness. The vibrant colors that adorned the totem made it seem alive with celestial energy, and the flowing patterns down its sides suggested a divine presence, always in motion, always watching.

At the base of the totem rested the marble tablet, an intricate slab lined with blue and gold. The surface shimmered faintly, and inscribed upon it were sacred words, the prayer of invocation. The tablet, which resembled something like a divine window into Andriel’s power, seemed impossibly polished, its gold lining weaving into patterns of stars and sky. Around it, small offerings of feathers and stones were laid in reverence, the villagers’ humble tribute to their god.

“This is Andriel, the god of imagination,” the girl said softly, her voice full of reverence.

"And this," she continued, pointing to the marble slab, "is his prayer invocation."

The group looked down at the base of the totem where the tablet was placed. The carved words shimmered faintly under the light, drawing their attention.

“Do you know how to read?” the girl asked.

Hartwell, feeling a strange sense of curiosity and awe, nodded. “Yes, our boss made sure we knew how to read. Said it’s useful for doing more intricate work.” He glanced down at the tablet, taking in the beautifully carved script.

The sacred prayer, etched deep into the marble, was unmistakable in its clarity:

"O God of Imagination, who transcends the bounds of time,  

You are the weaver of creation’s grand tapestry,  

Blending the wonders of knowledge, magic, and dreams.  

You are the sovereign of stories and adventures,  

Guiding our narratives with insight and creativity.  

Bless our pursuits and quests, and inspire our journeys with your boundless vision and favor."

They began to read the words aloud, their voices hesitant at first but gradually becoming more confident as the sacred incantation filled the air. As the words left their lips, they felt something shift in the atmosphere, as though the very ground beneath them recognized the prayer.

Hartwell, feeling a strange compulsion, closed his eyes as instructed, and the moment he did, a vision blossomed in his mind. He was startled at first, but before he could react, the girl gently grabbed his shoulder. “Do not open your eyes,” she whispered, her voice soothing but urgent.

In the darkness of his closed eyes, Hartwell saw a glowing panel appear, as if floating within his consciousness.

His heart pounded faster as he took in the strange display. What is this? he wondered, blinking in disbelief. He had never seen anything like it, and yet, it felt oddly familiar, like a distant memory he couldn’t quite place. His attributes were laid out plainly before him, as though a mirror was reflecting his very essence.

Then, beside the character panel, Hartwell noticed four simple icons that caught his eye. Each one had a clear description beneath it, making their functions immediately apparent. The first icon was a small messenger bird, labeled Messenger, likely a tool for communication. Next was a bookshelf, marked Library, a place to access knowledge or records. The third was a woven basket, simply named Store, where he assumed he could acquire items. Lastly, there was a coin purse, labeled Wallet, perhaps to track whatever currency was linked to this strange divine interface.

Hartwell's initial confusion faded as the meanings of the icons became clear. He marveled at the system presented before him. It was so straightforward, yet it offered a sense of endless possibility. This... this is incredible, he thought, a spark of excitement now replacing his earlier anxiety.

The girl smiled knowingly as she watched him explore his divine interface, understanding the awe and curiosity in his expression.

But before he could dwell on it, the girl’s voice once again broke through the haze. “This is your link to Andriel’s divine interface,” she explained softly, her hand still resting gently on his shoulder. “You’ve been blessed.”

Then, they had spent nearly an hour waiting for Hartwell as he fumbled through navigating the Divine Interface with the help of the village girl. Megara and the others stood by, not really understanding what was being discussed. They exchanged confused glances, watching as Hartwell squinted, muttered to himself, and occasionally got frustrated. 

“Are we going to be here all day?” one of the company members murmured, stifling a yawn.

Megara crossed her arms, eyeing Hartwell with concern. “I don’t even know what he’s trying to do…”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trial and error, Hartwell’s expression shifted to one of triumph. He clasped his hands together, whispered the prayer again, and a satisfied grin spread across his face. “I did it!” he exclaimed, looking as though he had just conquered some grand challenge.

“Thank the gods,” Megara muttered, rolling her eyes as they began to make their way back from the altar.

Hartwell, still grinning ear to ear, caressed the pendant of the necklace as they walked. “It wasn’t so hard after all.”

***

As they walked back from the arena, Hartwell couldn’t hide his excitement. A grin stretched from ear to ear as his fingers repeatedly caressed the pendant now hanging around his neck. The marble-white cross-shaped necklace gleamed in the sunlight, accented with subtle gold hues. Its design matched those worn by the villagers, yet it felt personal, like a symbol of his newfound connection to the god of imagination.

Megara and the rest of the caravan company trailed behind, exchanging glances of confusion. What’s gotten into him? they thought, eyeing the pendant with suspicion. 

Villagers they passed noticed Hartwell’s new accessory, offering him nods of approval or waves of recognition. Their reactions were strange to the caravan members—how quickly he had been accepted just by donning this simple object. 

Megara leaned closer to him, her voice a quiet whisper. “Hartwell, you do realize how... strange this all seems, right? The necklace, the way they’re treating you now.”

But Hartwell only chuckled, his thumb running along the smooth edges of the pendant. “Strange? Megara, this is amazing. It’s like... I’m one of them now. You should try it!” He shot her a playful grin, oblivious to the unease brewing within the rest of his companions.

Megara bit her lip, glancing nervously at the villagers who continued to smile and nod as they passed by. One of them, she thought. That’s exactly what worries me.

Hartwell beamed, placing his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest as if to show off the pendant more proudly. “And besides,” he said, with a broad grin, “doesn’t this look good on me? Look!” He struck a pose, turning his head slightly as though admiring himself. “I look expensive, like one of those nobles from our city!” He let out a hearty laugh, completely absorbed in his own enthusiasm.

Megara sighed, crossing her arms. “Hartwell, this isn’t about looking fancy...”

But Hartwell wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy basking in his imagined new status. “Hahah! I mean, seriously, if anyone back home saw me like this, they’d think I’d hit it big. Maybe I’ll get mistaken for royalty or something!” His laughter echoed through the village, drawing a few chuckles from nearby villagers who seemed to share in his amusement.

Megara shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Yeah, until the boss sees you flaunting that thing...”