The settlement's growth hummed along like a workman's hammer steady, stubborn, improbably bright. At my suggestion the people had set up a divine-kingdom system: one king, four ducal houses, sixteen earls for ceremony, and a whole lot of pomp to make a village feel like a nation. If the king displeased me, I could strip him of the laurel and leave him with nothing but a very awkward public lecture. Practicalities and theatrics, in equal measure.
Enoch was the first king. When the laurel crown settled on his head I cast a circular golden halo behind him, the light filling the wooden manor until the rafters looked like cathedral glass. The crowd chanted until their throats went raw,
"Long live the king, and may God long protect his reign,"
The rafters themselves seemed to echo the words. Enoch rose, hands trembling only a little, and spoke like a man who believed what he had to say.
"This servant thanks the Lord for choosing him. I promise to govern diligently and with fairness. I swear to protect you all as long as my sword is not dulled."
The people cheered until the floor shivered. Gifts were offered, oaths sworn, unwanted marriage proposals aired and carefully declined. The coronation ended on a high, wooden note.
That night Enoch stood at his window, looking small beneath the stars. He sighed, changed into a plain nightshirt, and slept with a crown set aside like a hat you only wore for important funerals.
Morning came with the steady noise of carpenters again. The attackers had not returned since I incinerated their camp; the settlement was expanding to hold newcomers.
And then, as if someone had opened a new book in my life, a stranger arrived.
He, as the morning light revealed, stood at the gate in gilded clothes and a swirl of murky purple that smelled familiar enough to unsettle me. Familiar in the way an old scar is familiar; I had seen that signature before. Guards stepped forward, paladins in old armour at the ready. Enoch came out in light armor to greet the visitor.
The newcomer bowed, then straightened and smiled with a politeness that radiated practiced charm.
"Greetings, prophet of God," he said.
"Hail, traveler. May we help you?" Enoch answered, polite and cautious.
Purple light spiraled over the stranger, then their eyes flared violet. The voice that came out after that was dipped in something else entirely. "I want to speak with you, daemo—Adam," they finished, the last word as if they were thinking.
No one called me daemon except one person, Ramona. I sank into Enoch without thinking. Our bodies overlapped, and Enoch's skin tightened, a hairline crack blinking across his palm. I flexed his fingers; the crack smoothed. When Enoch breathed again I felt the strain recede.
"How long have you been here, on the earth I mean?" I(Enoch)asked one eyebrow up.
"not very long, which is why I need your help to establish a foothold here." she said her voice rising above the man's
"And, how do you plan to do that?" I(Enoch) asked.
"You don't have followers yet," I said, eyes scanning the settlement for the small, constant hum of faith.
Then the man smiled, a slow thing. "I'll handle that," she(he) promised.
When the man's purple eyes softened and stopped glowing, he glanced at Enoch's golden eyes and actually bowed, trembling like someone caught looking at the sun. The glow then returned. "I have returned," Ramona(the man) said.
"So where are your followers?" I asked.
"Three days out, to the west," she(he) said. "We'll have to wait."
"Where did you get followers so fast?" I(Enoch) pressed.
She(he) shrugged as if to say, its not a big deal"I asked my father for some," she(he) said with a laugh that oozed of privilege.
"Your father, huh? Nepo-babies all the way then," I muttered through Enoch, and the man's amusement widened into a smirk.
"Nepo-babies?" She(he) asked in confusion
"Never mind. So gods can have real children, you know, the natural way?" I(Enoch) asked
"Yes, not all gods are birthed from void or faith," she(he) said.
"We have a lineage. Call us… new gods."
We sat in a silence that stretched for a long time. Enoch's chest rose and fell as though surfacing. The two of us, my consciousness inside his, then sliding out of him, I rose to the palace tower, Ramona followed after me. Together we landed on the single tower and watched the village now a little miniature beneath us.
"This place is barely three months old," Ramona said, scanning the town. She looked appreciative, then businesslike.
"I have a proposition."
I tipped my head. "I'm listening."
"Merge our civilizations," she said, plain and bold.
"Two deities, one unofficial pantheon. My people and yours work together. Your people get stability and numbers, mine get a local anchor." No flourish, no bargaining; just a plan laid down like a map.
"That's... practical." I studied the Ramona's face. "How would you introduce yourself?"
She smiled in a way that made her purple aura flicker.
"My followers will carry the symbol of your faith. When asked, they'll say they follow the God of Protection and his divine spouse."
Her eyes searched mine. "It'll ease things. When you speak, they'll accept it as revelation."
Of all the relationship models available, Ramona had chosen "wife." My internal eyebrow lifted. My mouth, traitorously, chipped into a grin. A faint, almost human heat crept across Ramona's cheeks.
I couldn't resist. "Fine," I said after a beat, and let the word roll like a coin between my teeth. "I don't see an issue, my, lovely dear divine wife."
Her face went beet-red, then she swatted me playfully with a sleeve and chased me around the settlement skies. For a moment, the world narrowed to wind in my face and gold light on my skin. We laughed like idiots, absolutely ridiculous gods tumbling above a village we were trying to raise.
This is fun, and terribly, perfectly unstable.