Chapter 11: A Sweet Dream for All

“Sister Dinnae, what do you think of the Holy Spirit and the Apostle?”

“What do I think of them?... What do you mean, Saintess?”

“I mean exactly that.”

The Saintess, who was admiring the flowers in the cathedral garden, turned her head to face the newly appointed sister.

Sister Dinnae had only recently concluded her theological studies, but was immediately appointed to work alongside the Saintess due to her intelligence and excellent demeanor.

“They are mysterious figures, are they not—appearing whenever humanity needed them most?”

“Certainly, that is true. Records say they came to our aid numerous times in the past, with some stories from the prehistoric age surviving through word of mouth.”

“Yes… The Holy Spirit, the righteous flaming fist of the Goddess. Whenever humanity was pushed to the brink of extinction, it was the Holy Spirit that descended to protect the Goddess’s children.”

“Then, there are the Apostles, the guiding hands of the Goddess. Whenever humanity lost its way or began committing atrocities across the land, it was the Apostles who led them back to the light.”

“You know well, Sister.”

“Of course, Saintess. I was the most learned of my peers in theological studies.”

Sister Dinnae puffed out her non-existent chest.

At this silly sight, the platinum-haired Saintess couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

The newly appointed sister then slunk back, her cheeks growing red with shame.

“I apologize, Saintess. I tend to get… too proud of my achievements sometimes, you see.”

“Worry not, sister. It bothers me not. Rather, I find it to be quite endearing.”

“E-Endearing?!? Ahem! A-Anyway, Saintess, why did you suddenly ask such a strange question?”

“I wonder.”

“Pardon?”

The Saintess gazed into the empty air with a hand stroking one ear.

There, floating before her eyes, was a transparent screen that only she could see.

The Constellation, Green Earth Mother, offers you a contract. Will you accept?

[YES] / [NO] / [HIDE NOTIFICATION]

“There are many Apostles in history, as you would know. The first Apostle was said to have given the gift of brilliance to mankind, making them the world’s first innovators. It is for that reason that we humans are the most prosperous of the intelligent races, though we only know of him through stories passed down by word of mouth and later recorded in text.”

“Indeed, Saintess. Then there was the fourth Apostle, who was said to have been a master of war and politics. When the Holy Empire, which was still only a Kingdom at the time, was on the brink of splintering into three, it was the fourth Apostle who put it all back together and subdued the opportunistic neighboring kingdoms that sought to take advantage of the discord.”

The Saintess’s expression turned gloomy as her gaze floated to the [YES] text on the screen.

“That begs the question—how exactly does one become an Apostle? To become a being so easily capable of changing the tides of history at the flick of a finger.”
“Become an Apostle…? Could one become an Apostle?”

“Who knows? Perhaps I am but a step away from finding out.”

“Saintess…?”

The Saintess lifted her hand into the air, as if to reach out to something, when…

Step. Step. Step.

“Are you Saintess Aureline?”

A young man approached from across the cathedral garden.

Although he was unarmed, it was natural for a sister to grow cautious around a man in the presence of the Saintess, especially one who managed to find his way into the cathedral garden—a restricted location for outsiders.

So, Dinnae protectively stood in front of the Saintess, ready to shield her at a moment’s notice.

The man stopped a meter before the pair and raised his hand in a gesture of reassurance.

“Calm, sister. I am Hardy Boyel von Augustine, the heir to the Augustine duchy. I have come to speak with the Saintess about some… matters of great importance.”

Saintess Aureline slightly narrowed her eyes as she met the young noble’s gaze.

“I hope you can make some time for me today, Saintess.”

“Is that everybody? I think we are missing one.”
“Lord Yvell, I think that woman… the village chief’s daughter does not appear to be with the crowd.”

“Yes, it seems that way. I wonder where she went. Oh, do not lose focus. Some of the ‘spirits’ are moving in the wrong direction.”

“I am sorry, Lord Yvell!”

The villagers, now all following behind the ‘spirits’ Esphera had made, which were really just orbs of fire she was controlling from afar, were slowly making their way up a mountain.

At the top of the mountain, we had made a nice stage for Esphera to start the first chapter of her legacy.

While Esphera thought it might have been too much to build a primitive shrine at such a height out of concern for her followers who would be made to scale said height regularly, I thought differently.

Having a shrine was important for any god, and even more so for fledgling goddesses like Esphera, whose faith could disappear overnight like the flame of a lit candle in violent winds.

For that reason, it was ideal to make sure that the shrine would remain standing for a long time. Naturally, more shrines would be built over time, but having a long-lasting first shrine would likely give bonus points for cultural heritage reasons that would help boost faith in Esphera.

Unfortunately, shrines were also natural targets in warfare. Should a rival religion suddenly appear in the future, the legendary ‘first shrine of Esphera’ could be eradicated from the face of the map out of sheer spite.

So, to prevent that scenario, I decided to keep the shrine up high on a mountain that was difficult to access. Early-stage military forces would find it difficult to scale such a mountain, while defensive forces could fortify the mountain shrine and easily protect it from would-be invaders.

“Hm. While we did clear the path of beasts, it would appear the path will need further development to make scaling the mountain easier in the future.”

“Lord Yvell… will you proceed with the plan without… Agni?”

“Was Agni her name? Come to think of it, you read through Fish’s memories, did you not?... No, I will have her participate as well.”

“But… time…”

“Esphera.”

I took a seat on the grass, watching the villagers below as some of the older ones among them were starting to show signs of fatigue.

Though there was one strange pot-bellied old man among them who seemed a little too eager to get ahead of the crowd, pulling his assigned ‘spirit’ along like a reluctant dog on a leash.

Whatever his deal was, I decided to pay him no heed and return my attention to Esphera.

“You want to help her, correct?”

“...”

“You must not.”

While Esphera lowered her head in gloom, I stealthily scratched my gene tank.

The Esphera I’ve come to know these last few weeks was quite a caring person. Were those motherly tendencies she got in her package deal as a start-up goddess? Because of this, she felt immense responsibility for her followers. Their pain was hers, as far as she was concerned.

“There are limits you should place in your interactions with your followers, Esphera.”

“But, Lord Yvell, we…”

“This little excursion was meant for you to experience living among your followers and to ensure a solid foundation for their continued survival. Anything beyond that is pure meddling.”

Meddling in others’ affairs as a goddess can only spell trouble. Various mythologies prove this, especially Greek and Roman ones.

For a goddess to grow too attached to her followers and involve herself in their petty squabbles would be like dropping a boulder on a lake. Such an action would create massive ripples that would affect the world in ways Esphera wouldn’t be able to predict.

No matter how much she cared for her followers, this was a line best not crossed. However…

“I-I know, Lord Yvell! But you simply must allow me!”

“Did I say I would stop you?”

“W-What?”

“I am merely here to teach you right from wrong. Your actions are your own. I have no such control over you. So do as you would like.”

I was just a powerless mortal, after all. If she wanted to do something herself, there’s no way I could push against that, no matter how hard I tried. And she’s not going to listen even if I warn her against doing it.

“T-Then, I will—”

“But you will regret it.”

“...!”

That doesn’t, however, mean I can’t persuade her in other ways.

“Let me guess. You were planning to use the ritual as a means to bring Fish back for Agni, were you not?”

“... Truly, nothing can escape your gaze, Lord Yvell. Indeed. That was my plan.”

Figures.

The original plan was to use some clever presentation and theatrical effects produced by Esphera’s divine power to convince the villagers that they could both summon and contract with spirits to protect them from threats.

This would, in turn, actually allow Esphera to produce real spirits that could do just as she would promise them. However, such a plan could also apply to other things. Like, for example, the resurrection of the dead.

Allowing Agni this one grace could only cause issues down the road. Perhaps, had the situation been better and Esphera’s divine essence more stable, we could have taken such a risk. Such ideals are best left as dreams. At least, for now.

“Tell me—how much importance do you place on life?”

“I-It is very important, of course. Why ask such a strange—”

“If that is so, then what do you suppose would happen if you grant them this chance at a second life so early on in your godhood?”

Esphera always hopes to achieve the most desired result, often failing to see how much sacrifice it would take and how many consequences it would entail. Before her followers, she was intensely loving but shortsighted.

“Mortals value life far more than constellations do. This, I am certain, you know after having looked through Fish’s memories. Should they learn that their deity would so willingly allow the resurrection of her departed child, their greed for life will only grow and destroy you and your followers both.”

Immortality is one of the oldest desires in mankind’s history. Because people fear death, it is only natural that they seek to live indefinitely. It is also that greed for life that has caused many great tragedies.

“Once your followers learn of the possibility of being resurrected from the dead—now that they have learned how to seek knowledge—they will find ways to appease you. They will lie and scheme so they can be assured continued existence through your blessing. And when that does not work anymore, they will turn to more drastic measures.”

Perhaps they might take hostages and threaten genocide upon innocents, demanding immortal life. Or perhaps they might even threaten Esphera with taking their own lives.

Maybe even one day they’ll figure out a way to reach the gods themselves so they can steal from them their immortality.

Whatever the case, if you give such a potent drug to civilization this early on, they will, no doubt, take the wrong path forward.

“Esphera, you will make a big mistake by doing this.”

Fear is a teacher. One of the most ancient and effective teachers.

While it is true that I applied some logic to my reasoning in my persuasion, my primary method of attack was her emotions. Once she realizes that such a generous action could only hurt everybody involved, she would have to think twice about that decision.

Sure enough, it seems that my persuasion-through-fear strategy worked, as her face scrunched up like she’d swallowed a bitter pill.

No, maybe it was a little too effective…

Shit, she’s crying.

I made a goddess cry.

“T-Then… what can I do, Lord Yvell? My children… Fish and Agni, they’re both hurting. Deeply hurt. I cannot bear to watch Agni suffer like this.”

Come to think of it, I have noticed that, in the last few weeks, the two have rarely crossed paths in the village.

I always thought it was just a coincidence, but it seems now that she was actively avoiding her. Perhaps, out of shame? Or intense pity?

Ugh… What do I do about this? It’s not like I can just let her go through with it.

One fuck-up and my ticket to survival in this prehistoric world would be gone and… well, no, that sounds wrong…

I… want to help her, sincerely.

But letting her have her way here would just be watching her throw herself into the fire, not that that would hurt a sun goddess.

Could there be any other way around this?

A method to make all parties happy?

Think, NEET, think. There has to be a way to solve this.

I’m not the smartest tool in the shed, but I’ve found my way around the most absurd of situations recently. Surely, I can pull it off again.

Surely.

“... Lord Yvell?”

“...”

“... I think I see Agni sleeping by the riverbank. I can see her from my sun form in the sky. I will send a 'spirit' her way to wake her and lead her to the mountain.”

“...”

“I am sorry for acting so childishly. I know now that I would only bring harm by… acting so unseemly as a goddess. A utopia… it is such a treasured dream to me that I often cannot help myself.”

“...”

“I… just wanted to make everyone happy.”

Happy.

When you try so hard to make everybody happy, more often than not, you wind up making everyone unhappy. This is one of the cruel truths of reality.

You cannot please everyone.

It is not a problem of differences in desires and pleasures between individuals, I think.

If people try hard enough, perhaps they could find a solution that could fill things in between and make things work.

Often, I have found that, throughout my life, it’s more often an issue of balance.

By casting such a wide net, you often wind up catching many unintended things.

These become problems, which stack up like dominoes that fall into each other, cascading into a greater and greater issue. That’s why people-pleaser types often end up dragging themselves into various scuffles.

So what was the solution there?

There wasn’t one.

Just don’t cast such a wide net in the first place, and you wouldn’t get yourself into unnecessary trouble.

Once the die is cast, there’s no taking back what’s been thrown. So all you can do is prevent such a situation from happening in the first place.

Prevention.

Wide nets.

Happiness.

Sleeping.

Agni was sleeping.

Esphera was going to wake Agni up.

Ah.

“Wait just a moment, Esphera.”