Chapter 44: Stolen Valor?
“Fish cooked over a campfire feels pretty anime.”
“The fuck did that come from?”
“I mean, don’t you see it all the time on camping episodes? It’s practically a staple for a comfy outing scene.”
Sunset in another world. Dinner over a campfire with friends. A fish on a stick in my hands, and a gorilla in a yellow speedo at my side.
This was a scene I wouldn’t have imagined experiencing in a lifetime. I don’t know exactly why, but today I felt particularly emotional. Maybe because it’s been a while since I shared a moment like this with others?
I think that the last time I had fun with my friends like this was during one summer back in high school. It was at a beach resort. It was my classmate’s birthday back then, and they invited a handful of us to a party on that small family-run resort.
Thinking about it now, I used to spend all my time fucking around with the boys. We’d do stupid shit like ride on each other's backs and charge at each other like jousting knights at school. I was a very different person back then.
During that trip to the beach resort, we’d pull on each other’s swim shorts when the other wasn’t looking, and get into serious volleyball matches where the losers had to confess to their crushes. Of course, I was one of the losers then.
I was a bit luckier than most—the girl I confessed to actually accepted me… or maybe that’s where things started going downhill.
I shouldn’t think about that right now.
I should just enjoy the time I’m sharing with this… strange group of individuals I’ve grown fondly acquainted with. Heh.
“Gross. Why are you smirking like that?”
“... No reason. I’m just… happy right now.”
“...?”
“Moments like these are pretty rare these days, you know. Where you could just share a calming moment with friends. You know how busy it gets on Earth. People are always chasing attention these days. Nothing ever feels sincere anymore.”
I take a bite out of the cooked fish on a stick. The salt was doing a lot of the powerlifting for the flavor. It’s crazy how much the flavor profile can change with just a little salt.
Ori furrowed her brows and flashed me a brief, scrutinizing gaze. It was hard to tell what she was thinking since I could never read her expression that well with that mask over her mouth.
Could she tell I wasn’t goofing around this time? Her gaze seemed to return to the campfire as she fell deep into thought.
“I think I know what you mean… Even special moments at a party, or eating dinner together with family, somehow wind up becoming a post on the internet set up for likes. Nothing really feels sincere when you realize how often people do things for an ounce of validation.”
Ori pulled down her mask and took a bite out of her cooked fish on a stick. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she had a pretty small mouth.
Her bites were equally as small. It was like watching a tiny animal nibbling on their meal.
“When I was still a kid, people didn’t care this much about shit like that… Actually, no—that’s not right. Kids my age back then wanted attention, too. Just not as obsessively as people do now. Definitely not.”
“Come to think of it, you’re older–”
Swish.
A stick flew by the side of my head, lightly grazing my ear.
Fuck. I almost died just now, didn’t I? Maybe I should keep quiet about her age.
“Some cosplayers I know practically depend on others’ validation, like they’d die without it—like fish out of water. They’d start wilting like a dying rose if it were taken away.”
“They crave validation? Why would they?”
“Ori, what is a cosplayer?”
The two goddesses of this world were drawn into the conversation. Come to think of it, Esphera was learning about culture on Earth, wasn’t she? I faintly recall her already knowing about beer and celebrations from the moment I met her.
Maybe Graille was the same? Though I’m not sure if Earth’s culture is something healthy to learn from, especially if they’re learning from the internet. I hope they don’t find out about R34.
Ori then proceeded to teach the two about her “profession.” Though she called it a profession, she didn’t seem to take it too seriously, seeing as she identified as a fellow NEET.
She pulled out her phone and showed them her social media page on XYZ. While she wasn’t crazy popular, she had an occult following online. She had nearly a hundred pictures up.
She used to do some crazy good 4Z cosplay back when that android character was super popular. I think that was what put her on the map.
“These clothes are so pretty! And you say you made all of these yourself?”
“Not everything. Sometimes I had to commission some parts I couldn’t make myself from others. Though I’d say I made about most of them.”
“This is amazing… I would like some of these for myself.”
“I could give some away for a price. I don’t really use them anymore.”
“Really? Then, I would appreciate a fair trade!”
It’s a good thing that the girls are getting along. But now I’m feeling a bit lonely.
I turn my head to the side and find Ramube spoonfeeding Sylvie. In Sylvie’s hands was a rubber chicken toy that she seemed to be lovingly embracing while she sloppily ate off the spoon in Ramube’s hand.
I guess I have someone to talk to… but the speedo… Ugh. Are there furries out there who’d be into this?
“Oog?”
Let’s just get a conversation rolling. I do need some divine input into the constellation invitation plan I’ve been cooking up since that talk I had with Ori. The gorilla will be the second-best thing I could get besides a discussion with this world’s two goddesses about this topic.
“Sir Gorilla. There’s something I’d like to ask you.”
“Oog.”
I spent a few minutes giving Ramube a run-down of the plan. The idea was fairly simple.
The idea was simple: create a system that lets specific constellations enter a newly formed world and pursue new opportunities. Gods could seek faith, revive their dormant religions, or expand their influence, while ascended constellations could try to elevate themselves to full godhood.
The latter shouldn’t be too difficult, since, by Ramube’s account, ascended constellations still command divine power. They simply do not possess the same level of influence as gods among the constellations.
It should be possible to elevate them from the mere status of ascended, seeing as even Ramube himself has become a mix of both worlds.
Of course, this wasn’t a plan that could be acted on right away. As much as I’ve learned from Ramube’s own accounts of things, there aren’t many new budding worlds out there at all that we could take advantage of for this plan.
This world was one such ideal place where we could enact that plan, but…
“Oog.”
The Constellation, Gorilla of Fates and Twisted Futures, warns that the plan will cause problems to the host constellations of those worlds. He clarifies that godhood is a competition to cultivate faith, with other gods as rivals and worlds serving as the arenas where those contests take place.
He adds that few gods would be willing to allow such a plan to be enacted upon their world for fear of stunting their own growth and fading into irrelevance in their own territory, or for fear of throwing the world into chaos with the presence of several gods.
Poot.
Sylvie let out a small fart in the middle of our discussion. Ramube picked her up to check if she needed a change of diapers, but ultimately found it necessary. Then, the discussion continued.
“Oog.”
The Constellation, Gorilla of Fates and Twisted Futures, explains that the core issue of that plan is the lack of an enforceable authoritative structure if it is ever put to action. Without someone ensuring divine laws are enforced, gods may run rampant in their attempts to get ahead of others. The same is true for the ascended.
He adds that creating an enforceable authoritative structure might very well be impossible, due to the power difference between constellations. Power is what maintains law, and without someone powerful enough to hold the reins on other constellations, a catastrophe would inevitably strike.
Sounds really complicated. Maybe I should’ve taken that one class on laws a lot more seriously. Maybe then I’d understand this a little better.
From what I can tell, this plan is flawed right from the start for two simple reasons.
First, no one in their right mind would welcome strangers into their own territory and let them set up shop to compete with their own religion.
Second, the whole idea of having a “God Police” falls apart immediately, because whoever takes that role would need to be strong enough to keep other constellations in line. The hosts of these worlds would never willingly hand that authority to someone stronger than themselves, since that constellation could just turn around and take over their world.
That fear would be even worse, considering these hosts are probably weak constellations to begin with—new worlds tend to come with new, inexperienced gods.
Constellations like Esphera and Graille wouldn’t be fans of this arrangement. They’d be giving up far more than they’d ever get out of it.
Sigh.
“Every day I find myself thinking that nothing is ever easy.”
“Oog…”
Ramube gave me a gentle pat on the back. What a kind monkey. If only he weren’t still wearing that speedo, then this’d be a much warmer scene.
“Oog?”
The Constellation, Gorilla of Fates and Twisted Futures, asks you why you do not choose to ask constellations in the server for their opinions on such a plan.
“Isn’t it obvious? Because their own interests will bleed into their own answers.”
Humans are ultimately creatures that calculatingly jump at opportunities. Though these constellations aren’t humans, or no longer are humans, they ought not to be too different from what I’ve observed while lurking in the general chat of the Constellation Community Server.
The gods among them who bear human form reflect a lot of human characteristics, which isn’t too surprising when you think that it was humans themselves who likely conceptualized them into existence. The ascended constellations (with Ramube as a unique exception), on the other hand, were humans once, and they still carry their human traits over post-ascendance.
Some of them would probably froth at the mouth from the opportunity of becoming true gods themselves. It’s a no-brainer that they might try something sneaky if I bring the topic up to them.
As for the newer constellations, they’d likely just oppose the plan outright, seeing the dangers that the agreement holds towards them. That leaves me with only two options left to choose from to help broaden my horizons a little more.
“Esphera and Graille…”
I’ve grown quite close to them. They’ll probably give me their honest thoughts on the subject and be more willing to buy into the agreement, but…
“I don’t want to trouble them.”
I take a glance at the girls, who were now having a lively discussion about Earth-related topics in the distance.
If they agreed to my idea, it would mean saddling them with the burden of the plan itself. Two new constellations who have barely secured a foothold in their own faith—asking them to take on something this important, and this self-damaging, just feels… wrong.
I felt Ramube’s gaze on me as I was deep in thought. When I turned to look at him, he seemed to be giving me a reassuring gaze, from what I could barely tell from his gorilla face.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke in his usual monkey speech.
“Oog. Oog.”
The Constellation, Gorilla of Fates and Twisted Futures, tells you not to be afraid to ask them. He says that they place great trust in you, someone who cares so deeply about them. Whatever happens, he adds, he’ll be sure to lend his aid to you and the two goddesses.
… Ugh. Bro, why am I getting teary-eyed over this damn gorilla’s words? Fuck.
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Oog.” (Thumbs-up)
“Yeah.” (Thumbs-up)
I’ll have to wait for the right time to talk to them. Maybe later in the evening, if they’ve got the time to spare.
The girls usually busy themselves, browsing on their phones around that time, with the goddesses usually hooked on UTube. I’ll go and ask them then.
“This book is quite an interesting read, senior. I have learned a lot. Do you have volume three with you?”
Graille held up a book titled “Mythology 101 for Idiots.” Esphera smiled in response, happy to share her interests with her junior.
“I have yet to purchase it. I have been busying myself with theology books on still-thriving religions on Earth.”
Esphera swept her hand over a fairly thin red book resting on a foldable table. Its title was printed in a comical-looking font: “Cults & Fanaticism: The Loonies of the Western World.”
Beneath it lay another book—a comedy light novel titled “Goddess’s Blessing on This Brand New World!” And under that book were even more books that were very clearly just manga and light novels, none of them looking even remotely academic.
“It is interesting, the depths that constellations of other worlds go to build up their… ‘legacy’, as Lord Yvell calls it.”
“‘Legacy’… You mean to say things like those mythical events, like a great flood sweeping over the world, or a god turning into a swan to romance a queen, and–”
“Let us not discuss that part! Please!”
“Oh, sorry.”
The two goddesses had spent the past few nights together, exchanging the knowledge they’d gained from self-study. As disciples of a great constellation like Yvell—the ‘Utopic World Builder’—they needed to continue learning even without his guidance.
They didn’t want to bring shame to their teacher. And if they hoped to stand on equal footing with him someday, they needed to become accomplished constellations on their own, sooner rather than later. That way, they could make their mentor proud.
“‘Legacies’, as I understand them, are, in simple terms, significant events that shape a constellation’s identity. These are especially important to newborn constellations like us.”
“Could we really count as ‘newborn’ still when many generations have passed by your hand?”
“Compared to the many other constellations out there? Absolutely. There is no doubt there.”
Esphera smiled as she set her gaze on the sleeping form of the high elven infant, Sylvariel, who was deep asleep in her rocking cradle. She gently placed her palm on the baby’s forehead, feeling the warmth of life under her hand.
“We have only barely gotten started as goddesses, Graille. There is still much we have to learn before we can shed that title.”
“I suppose so…”
Graille lightly pushed the rocking cradle, causing it to sway gently back and forth. The sleeping high elf baby seemed to like the motions, babbling lightly as she suckled on her thumb.
“‘Legacies’ shape a constellation’s identity… I wonder what identity suits me best, senior?”
“Do you not already have the image of a nature goddess among your followers?”
“Not exactly. It may appear that way, but it is more like I am seen as their mother, in the literal sense. Though the ents seem to worship me as a divine figure despite that.”
“I do not mean to offend, but they seem… confused.”
“Hehe. I cannot deny that. It will take a while for true intelligence to take root in them, unfortunately. My powers are still too limited to grant them any more on my own.”
Graille leaned in close to the cradle and planted a kiss on the sleeping Sylvariel’s forehead. To Graille, the baby symbolized the future she imagined. The first seed of many to come in this world that she and Esphera would care for.
Elynthys—The garden of life tended to by gods. A paradise of divine making.
“Hm. Esphera, would you not say that the title of ‘Mother of All Life’ would suit me best?”
“... What?”
“It makes sense, does it not? After all, I may very well be nature-incarnate. And all life comes from nature, correct?”
From that line alone, Esphera felt her junior so rudely cross into her own territory.
‘Mother of All Life’
Such a title would imply that she, too, would be the mother of all humans. The very same humans that Esphera painstakingly raised and deeply cared for.
Is this what it felt like to experience being the victim of stolen valor?
“... Is that not too lofty a title to pick for yourself?”
“What was that, senior?”
“Are you not being a little too arrogant to lay claim to such a title? You are clearly overstepping your bounds.”
“Huh?”
Graille had unknowingly fired the first shot in what would be a long-standing rivalry.
