God’s Perspective

Paul noticed that Brennan, the village head, had finally chosen the Warrior class. Given his adventurous background, it seemed fitting. With just the two of them left at the dilapidated altar in the central village, they headed back home.

"I need to fix that altar as soon as possible," Paul thought about the altar. It symbolized his existence to the villagers and anchored him to this world. If it were to break, he would struggle to find another unclaimed altar. Moreover, he found it too ugly for his taste; it resembled more of a totem than anything meaningful. He wanted to modify it, but his control over creation was still weak. His imaginative authority often dominated, making any attempts to fix it costly. The lack of control compounded the difficulty the more he tried.

Paul knew he needed to repair the wear and cracks in the altar, making it look new again. He wanted the villagers to remember that what happened tonight was not a dream. Drawing on his authority of imagination and creation, he set to work restoring the altar.

As an embryonic god, he was aware that his power was limited by the diversity of his concepts. Out of his total potential, he could only control 25 percent: the majority was tied to imagination, followed by creation and healing. The remaining aspects included information, magic, light, and beauty. To become stronger, he would need to abandon some of these concepts and focus solely on one. However, Paul believed that having many diverse concepts was the key to true power.

He knew that gods cannot easily die unless their original body is exposed outside the astral realm. Although it's possible to significantly harm a god by killing their incarnations, depleting their reserves, or stealing their followers, infiltrating their divine realm is not only rare but nearly impossible. Typically, the best one can achieve is forcing a god to be expelled from a world. Thus, the most effective strategy is to strengthen one's reserves by cultivating a powerful and abundant followers. 

The altar, as I’ve come to call it, is actually a totem pole. After completing my modifications and infusing it with my essence, the totem stands tall, carved from a solid cedar trunk. It depicts a lone figure resembling himself— The god who descended from the sky the previous night, with arms outstretched in a pose as if he's carrying all things. The intricately detailed face reflects a divine presence, radiating compassion and understanding, with deep-set eyes that seem to embrace the land below, offering solace and wisdom to those who seek it.

Adorned in vibrant colors, the figure is embellished with symbols of celestial significance and awe. Flowing patterns cascade down the sides, suggesting movement and energy, while the wood’s natural grain adds warmth and texture. 

At the base rests a tablet that resembles his signature 'divine interface', crafted from solid marble and lined with gold and blue. Inscribed upon it are my prayer incantations, a sacred invocation, a key to link on my divinity. There's a small offerings of feathers and stones surround the tablet, further honoring this manifestation of the god. 

This singular totem will serves as a powerful affirmation that everything is not a dream; what transpired last night was real. That the god has shown mercy to them and blessed them with grace, becoming their spiritual guidance and hope.

As the rooster crowed and morning sunlight bathed the village of Ravenshade, the villagers began to rise one by one. Most offered their prayers from their beds, with the majority merely repeating my title and praising me. Some remembered the prayer incantation halfway before stopping, while only a few recited the full incantation properly. All their prayers provided divine energy, but only those who prayed fully achieved and produce a single unit of divine energy. I hoped the village head and his granddaughter would fulfill their duty and share their discoveries from the night before.

The villagers began their day with prayers to me before attending to their morning chores. When the mothers and children noticed the significant changes at the central altar, memories of last night flooded back as they examined the totem altar closely. They gazed in fascination at the intricately written prayer incantation, though its meaning eluded them, as most of Ravenshade's residents were illiterate. Surprisingly, only the village head and his granddaughter could read common.

As nearly all the villagers crowded around the altar, some attempted to get a closer look, others reached out to touch it, and a few hoped to recognize familiar characters in the writing. Even the hunters from the previous night wished to kowtow. Finally, the village head and his granddaughter arrived. Seeing the commotion, he tried to get their attention, but his efforts were in vain; his shout only resulted in a fit of coughing due to his age.

Concerned, his granddaughter began to pray. Suddenly, the tome from last night appeared again, floating gracefully in the air. A soft light glowed above her head, flowing into her heart and down to her hands, then radiating out to touch the village head. As the healing light worked its magic, he felt a surge of vitality returning.

“Thank you, Eliza,” he said, ruffling her hair as she beamed with pride. As the book vanished, they noticed the bustling crowd had fallen silent. When they looked around, they saw the villagers staring at them, expressions ranging from shock to awe, some even weeping. Then, like an avalanche, they rushed toward the village head and his granddaughter, drawn by a miracle the girl made.

“What is that? Is it a blessing?” one villager asked, while another pleaded, “Can you heal my parents? They’re both sick from working in the fields!” 

“Eliza! I’ll pay! Please, heal my child!” The crowd surged forward, desperate to reach her, but the village head raised his hand to stop them.

“Everyone, please! This is indeed a blessing from the god of imagination. You can all receive it as well. All you need to do is pray in front of the altar, and divine writings will appear before you. Do not open your eyes, or the writing will vanish. Maintain your prayer and navigate those divine words.

“My granddaughter and I were fortunate to receive a blessing in the form of classes. I am a warrior, and she is an aid. She can already use her class abilities because our god has granted her that power. However, I still lack the quarks needed to unlock my first warrior ability. I must devote more to gain favor in the form of quarks to achieve the necessary amount.”

“So, all of you must fully recite the incantation to reveal the divine writings.”

From my divine sight, I observed the villagers gathered around the altar, relieved to see that I had created a 100-meter radius where everyone could access the divine interface, provided they recited my incantation. I considered expanding this radius to envelop the entire village, but I realized it would be counterproductive; maintaining the scanner detection for believers and if they wanted to pray consumed constant divine energy.

Instead, remote access remained the more viable option. I just needed to refine the system further to make it available to all.

“Oh my god! It’s real! I see words!” shout the villager

“Me too! But what do they mean? I don’t understand!” said the other he scratches his head as he maintain his prayer posture.

The villagers were filled with confusion as they looked at the interface but couldn’t decipher the writing. Realizing my oversight, I remembered that most, if not all, of them were illiterate. 

Should I bless them with knowledge of language? Creating that concept would drain my divine energy. Perhaps I could make it more user-friendly by turning the words into pictures, but that too would require new concepts and further energy. 

I needed to find a solution that wouldn’t exhaust my resources. What should I do?