The whole world began to shake, but I knew that I had to remain calm amongst the chaos.
Sera instinctively moved closer, clutching my arm and pressing herself against me. My former self might have grown nervous at such closeness, but now I felt only the desire to comfort her, to ease her fears.
I wonder whether godhood has added features to my personality, or rather enhanced the qualities that were already present.
I was calm enough to even think such thoughts.
The other four stumbled toward me, some losing their balance as the tremors disrupted the land beneath us. They huddled close to me and Sera, seeking reassurance.
"What should we do, Great Vale? What is this?" Dyliana asked, her voice trembling as she clung to Thomasu for support.
I have no idea, I said, but only In my head.
"Remain calm," I said with a confidence that was entirely honest. "It's a natural occurrence. It will pass soon."
My words, though uncertain to me, seemed to soothe them. The five figures continued to cling to me as the tremors intensified, their helpless eyes fixed on mine.
Minutes passed before the quaking began to fade. Slowly, the land returned to its tranquil stillness.
My disciples let out the breaths they had been holding, their bodies visibly relaxing.
During the rumbling, my mind felt as if it wished to allow fear to creep in, a natural response to an earthquake. Outwardly, I showed no signs of it—my heart rate steady, my composure unshaken.
What was that? I asked myself, wondering whether that was the survival event Osidon had mentioned.
Due to it's lack of danger, I decided that it most likely wasn't.
---
After the tremors ceased, the disciples returned to their tasks and conversations, though Sera remained at my side, quietly eating her bread.
She truly was beautiful to me, her presence captivating enough that she might have stood out even amongst the gods. I wished to know more about her, but deep down, I suspected her past was nonexistent—a creation of Osidon, brought into being solely for this peculiar game of gods.
Sera noticed my gaze and flushed, her tanned cheeks deepening in colour.
"Wow, what an honour to be watched so intently by a god," she joked, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.
Her hesitation was clear—perhaps she feared how I might react to humour. But when I laughed, I saw her relax.
"Well, when someone is so pretty, perhaps even the gods cannot help but stare," I replied, watching as her cheeks turned an even brighter red.
Silence fell between us for a moment before she broke it, having finished her bread.
"Do you mind if I ask you a question, Great Vale? It might be personal, so feel free to refuse. You have every right to." Her voice was shy, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Please, just call me Vale when we're alone," I said. "And of course, what would you like to ask?"
Being called "Great" every time someone addressed me felt strange, and if I wished to build connections beyond worship, I knew I needed to remove such formalities.
It was a risk. Too much familiarity might lead to a loss of respect—a blurring of the line between god and mortal. Yet I decided it was worth it.
"What is it like, being a god?" she asked, catching me off guard.
"Well," I began, choosing honesty. "It's strange, and it comes with many burdens. I would advise against it."
We held each other's gaze for a moment before bursting into laughter.
I wondered if she knew anything of the truth—that I had been taken from a world where I was utterly ordinary and thrust into this role for reasons unknown. For now, I chose to keep that secret to myself.
The man who keeps his own counsel keeps his own fortune. I had once read.
Our conversation drifted to lighter topics—the land, plans for the realm, her hopes for this new world, and things she wished to experience in it.
It was then that I realised I was fond of her. Sera's energy was blissful, her presence stirring a joy I hadn't felt since my days on Earth—since an old lover I had long since lost.
The longer we spoke, the more at ease she became. For the first time, it felt as though I was speaking with an equal, rather than a disciple who worshipped me. Still, the respect she held for me remained evident, and I recognised its importance.
I will make you my closest disciple. My ultimate follower. I decided that day. Perhaps I do not have to be alone.