1.5 – When God Comes to Town

At this point it may be necessary to point out that you are not in trouble. Whoever you may be, wherever you may be, whenever you may be, you are precious. You are loved.

This will make more sense later.

In a way, everyone is the main character of their own life.

It is the little things, the things that are unimportant really, the things that you might disagree on, that endear a person to another person.

Vikom was born on earth to human parents, died in his mid-twenties and came to Xaranya as a Level 1 whatever you choose to be.

He chose to be a [Paladin].

This is – and is not – only his story. It is also mine. It is also yours.

In a way, I answered Vikom’s challenge the moment he made it, but in a way I also answered his – and similar – challenges long before he made it. As a general rule, by the time God shows up for you, most of the hard work was done, probably ages ago.

For example, I first met [Cleric] Aleren a year after the start of this story and those were some of the first words I said to her. Along with “leave this one to me. You won’t be able to help him, and you are really going to want to. Trust me. So don’t.”

I met Vikom years later, inside Castelmara, as he was turning to leave.

To be clear, he was not – entirely – alone. He had officially reserved the dungeon and had arranged for a timely [Resurrection] if it was needed, with the standard fee. So, it wasn’t exactly a mystery, not  a surprise that he was there. None of that is how I knew. No, I knew because I was, because I am The [Scribe], because I’m [God].

True story.

Vikom didn’t know that. All he knew was that a beautiful (if I say so), dark-skinned woman dressed in loose gold robes(?) a dress(?) (They were robes, Vikom.) Came walking into his newly-cleared chamber with a delicate Siamese cat following close behind me.

When Vikom looked at my status bar, he would see what anyone would see. I don’t believe in Keeping Secrets, after all.

Kat [God] and then … well, a lot of question marks for my statuses, not because I’m keeping secrets or whatever, but it is either that or infinity symbols and I prefer question marks. 

“And that’s Erin,” I said, pointing at my cat companion. “In case you were wondering what the cat is called. Also, hi.”

He was staring at me, biting his lower lip, having forgotten about the gauntlet that he was still holding in his hand. The chests had already faded away.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s an in joke with a friend,” I explained. I point at myself. “Kat with a K.” I point at the actual cat. “Erin. Kind of like Katherine, you know Katherine the Great. Didn’t you have an empress called that at one point?”

“Um….” He said. (Or the Russian equivalent, I am sure.) “What?” he said again.

While sort of walking around in linear time, I prefer to – anyway, no one cares – to think like a human, so I don’t (sorry, not sorry) Have Magical Omniscience. FYI. I mention this, because people often ask me: don’t you already know everything??? The answer is no. I pretty much know the kinds of things you know, except that I know divinity things instead of whatever things you know because of your profession, interests, et cetera. Like how if you are a [Farmer] you know farm things.

This usually ends the questions. I rarely let it get much farther, because – okay – like some [Farmers] really like to talk about farming, I could literally spend forever talking about [God] stuff. Because I enjoy it far more than I imagine most people would, most of the time. Experience has taught me that most people who keep listening are hoping for the [God] equivalent of free grapes with no effort.

And will therefore be both angry and disappointed to discover there is no such thing. And then, surprised when I am hurt to discover that is why we were talking, not because they really wanted to know. So, I generally just don’t. And that’s why. FYI.

Because of reasons, no one expects free food from [Farmers]. Many people seem to expect literally everything from me.

That said, since I was on Xaranya, it would literally be strange to not quickly check the codices, which is like the on-demand encyclopedia available in-world, like the Internet if you’re from 21st century earth. And yep, the information I had was in fact correct. Russia did at one time have an Empress by that name. Whew. Otherwise, that would be embarrassing.

And still, Vikom continued to stare at me blankly.

“Hi,” I said again. I really wished Vikom would say something. The silence was getting … awkward.

Erin decided that she either a) liked him or b) wanted to claim him as her own by marking him with his scent and – honestly c) probably a bit of both. She walked over to him, and he reached down to pet her absently, putting the gauntlet away in his inventory without thinking about it, and then reaching down to pet the cat who began nudging his hand with the top of her head. Yes, Erin definitely liked him and definitely was claiming ownership of him as well.

Honestly, of all the divinity choices I have ever made, Erin has to be one of the best. Even the most nervous – oh my God, you actually came, now please don’t unmake me – of petitioners seems to be put at ease by a small, purring animal.

Yes, I am aware that there are people out there who really don’t like cats, who (cover your ears, Erin – good) have been known to T-O-R-T-U-R-E cats, and if you ever hear about any of those people being visited by God, let me know, really. Because whoever is visiting those people, it is not me.

Just saying.

Well, not in a good, conversational way anyway. In fact, I can see why some people who really shouldn’t be are afraid of me are, but – look – those were Bad People and … anyway. Where was I?

Right … giving Vikom a moment to pet the cat.

Maybe more than a moment. Honestly, they both looked so happy there it almost seemed like a shame to interrupt that moment. If you’re a cat person, and if not you probably won’t enjoy this next part very much, so if you’re a cat person – hi – you know how sometimes a cat will curl up in your lap and you really need to do something, but no. Just another minute. And another. And another.

Eventually, I really did have other things to do, so….

“You called, and I answered.”

Vikom looked up at me and so did Erin, angrily, I might add, angry in a way only cats get, an innocent kind of jealousy that nonetheless is very real jealousy. How dare I interrupt Her Moment with This Guy?

I waved, again.

“You’re God,” he said.

I nodded. “Last I checked.”

“God is a cat lady.”

“I am a lady, and I have a cat. True.”

“Is Jesus real? I mean is Jesus really … your son?”

I laughed, because … indeed. “Yes and … interesting question. I mean, you always know who the mother is, as they say. He is definitely Mary’s son.”

“Are they … here? What is this place?”

I nodded slowly. “Walk and talk?”

“What?” he asked.

I make the universal(?) symbol for walking with my index and middle finger and then the  universal symbol for talking with my hand. “Walk and talk. Sometimes it’s easier to talk while you’re moving, get the blood flowing. Get out of the dungeon. Your reservation is due to expire in a half hour and this might take a while.”

“My reservation?”

“For the dungeon,” I said. I could have pulled him out of time for this conversation, more for my sake and for everyone else’s sake than for his, but … nah. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, nothing important would happen in my absence would in fact be a demeaning thing to say about … people in general. Nothing would break down because I chose to be corporeally here as opposed to corporeally somewhere else. Anyway. These and other details no one cares about. I know.

“Oh,” he said. “I cleared the dungeon in under two hours?”

“Yep,” I said. “You sure did.”

“Cool.”

I smiled at him, trying to decide if I liked him or not. Either way, he had a valid petition, something that he really needed, without yet understanding what that thing was. That would definitely be a “me” thing, the whole “groans too deep for words” thing. (And now anyone who knows what that means knows which member of Team Trinity I am – and more on all of that later.) I was here to listen to him – honestly – and to get his prayer wherever it needed to go, and then I would be gone, well, corporeally anyway.

That was the plan, and you know what they say about plans….

We walked and we talked. The cat followed behind us. She is pretty good about following me, mostly because she knows I have the treats – and the reliable cuddles and head-scritches. Cats are easy that way, unlike humans which are complicated in terms of wants and needs and who they will or won’t follow for whatever reason. 

“In answer to your first question,” I told him. “You’re on Xaranya, which is … my world.”

“Your world,” he said. “Aren’t all worlds, yours?”

“Well,” I said, pausing because we had come to a door narrow enough for only person to go through at a time. It was the door leading to the chamber that would go up to the next floor. Castelmara has only two floors, but … anyway. “People say that Earth is Satan’s world. In the sense that Satan allegedly conquered it and controls a large part of its population. What do you think, Vikom?”

“I don’t know anything right now,” he said, glancing back from the steps leading upward.

“Honest answer,” I said. “God allowed everyone to fall into sin, so that God could have mercy on everyone. Do you know that line?”

“No,” he admitted. “Where is it from?”

I nodded slowly. “So, first of all, some homework,” I said to him. Before following him up the stairs, I turned to Erin, and said the words, “Erin go bragh.”

“What?” Vikom asked, while Erin stared at me for a second, deciding whether or not she wanted to stay with us. Then, she came to rub against my leg before … disappearing, returning home. This was going to be a while, and I knew she would get tired of following me, of following us, eventually.

Okay, so maybe Erin didn’t follow me just for the treats. Also, safety. Also, companionship. Also, loosing her from being near me when I could tell she was ready to be loosed.

It’s a thing.

“Letting the cat go,” I explained.

“Oh,” he said. “Right.”

I smiled innocently up at him, and he continued to climb the steps. He could tell that – like a cat, okay – I am probably pretty much always “up to something.” But aren’t we all though? Then, he shrugged, and I continued talking.

“Yes, Xaranya is uniquely my world, the only world made by me, and therefore a good place to say this, Vikom. What does God want from you? For you – and everyone – to live your life. God creates people in order to create them, for the sake of their existence. Period. You would find that in an actual book called the actual Bible, called Wisdom, chapter 1, verse 14 which is in the Catholic Bible but you were Catholic so … come on Vikom. You really have some homework to do. This is like paying for a technician to help you because you didn’t bother to read the manual first. I’m of a mind to go away and come back when you’ve at least read the manual.”

He actually laughed because … I can be funny sometimes. It’s true. “But you won’t,” he said. “Because you already knew that.”

“I already know – or have access to – a lot of things,” I explained. “So do you. You have access to multiple translations of the Bible here, on file, ready to access. Also, the Talmud, the Qu’ran and you can even learn Arabic because someone somewhere would tell you it does not translate well, the poetry of it. Let’s see. In answer to why you are here as opposed to somewhere else, that is a much longer answer that you – and other people – are going to have to continue to answer for yourselves. Anything more than that would either be incomplete or else … unfair to you.”

He actually paused in front of the second archway, the one that exactly matched the outside one – honestly, because the designer of this particular dungeon decided to just repeat the outside arch. It was simpler.

He turned around. “What do those words mean?” he asked me, and I knew it was probably a test.

I didn’t even need to look. “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,” I said, searching his face. “But you already knew that.”

“From Dante’s Inferno. I found that out while I was … figuring out how to solo the dungeon. Is it some kind of joke?”

“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely.”

He paused. “Is all of this some kind of joke?”

“Very debatable,” I admitted. “In answer to your actual first question, as it so happens, it is also debatable whether Jesus is my son.”

He stared at me for a while, and I began reciting The Apostle’s Creed.

“I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth.”

He continued to stare at me.

“Do you know that one?”

It had … been a while, I could feel him thinking. I don’t actually read minds because – honestly, ick … but sometimes you can hear people thinking at you from the expressions on their face. Come on. Everyone does it. I’ve been told – and I believe – that communication is mostly about body language, tone of voice and only a small percentage is The Actual Words You Say.

“That’s the … creed,” he said slowly. “And your point is?”

I kept going until the part where – and this part sometimes translates differently. “Received flesh from or was incarnate of…..” I pause, looking at him looking back at me. “And was born of the Virgin Mary,” I conclude. “Like I said, you always know who the mother is, except for surrogacy and even then … what a strange world we live in.”

“Surrogacy,” he repeated.

“When one woman agrees to carry another woman’s child.” I shrugged. “So … debatable.”

And … somewhere in the distance … the other shoe – dropped.

And then there was a loud meow. I mean, have you ever met a Siamese cat? They are not quiet animals, especially when they want your attention which is pretty much constant.

By the way, leather shoes and cats do not mix. I once had this really nice pair of boots that were made of real leather and now I have … scraps including the one Erin brought with her, laying it … about twenty feet away from our feet, because cats love to bring presents and they also believe we should have to work for them a little.

This particular sole was – I know – one of Erin’s most prized possessions.

“She must really like you,” I told Vikom, who was still staring at me.

Then he turned around and saw Erin licking her paw. “How did-?” he started to ask and then stopped.

Erin deigned to lean down and nudge at the piece of shoe leather with her nose, making sure he saw it, and then she disappeared again.

“Yeah,” I said. “She does that sometimes. So … where are you? Xaranya. Is Jesus really my son? Sort of. I mean not really. I mean, he is definitely Mary’s son in every way that counts. She nourished him with her body, raised him, et cetera. Did you have any other questions?” Perhaps more relevant to his actual, right-now situation, I thought but did not say … yet.

He walked over to the scrap of leather and picked it up and turned around with it in his hand, with a questioning look on his face.

“You don’t have to keep it,” I told him. “I would throw it away personally. Erin will forget she gave it to you, probably. Actually, maybe I should take it….” Cats are weird. Who understands cats? I ask you.

Vikom shrugged and threw it away and … Erin immediately appeared next to where he had thrown it, picked it up in her mouth and brought it over to him, well, about ten feet from him. Oh no, she was playing fetch with him now. I was starting to wonder if I might just have lost my cat when the fifteen minute warning sounded.

“Warning,” a neutral female voice. “The reservation on this dungeon is set to expire in fifteen minutes. At that time all mobs will reset and the dungeon will be open to all.” There was a pause and then the message repeated and then stopped. Had we been talking for that long?

“We should go,” I said.

“Yeah,” Vikom agreed, going to pick up the scrap of leather. We kept walking, Erin at his feet.

“The cat distribution system at work,” I said.

“What?” Vikom asked, but I shook my head, as we kept walking.

“Do you have any more questions?” I asked as we exited the dungeon, coming to stand outside, in the dark, because it was a little after midnight.

I really wanted to help Vikom, and that meant putting him at ease by not being too scary while also ensuring that he knew that I could do things, that I was capable of helping, within certain boundaries that would be unhelpful to explain via infodump.

It’s a balancing act, more than most people know, the whole divinity thing. You kind of have to be there to get it.

“Why am I here and not Susan?” he asked. And – oh yes, forgot to mention – he already knew part of the game, that people arrived here from all different time periods, some from centuries ago, some from “the future” although that was all relative. Therefore saying “because Susan has not died yet” would be a non-answer. Realizing that – deeply – would be yet another moment when yet another part of his hope died, the hope that maybe one day Susan would die and come here and they would meet then. He had literally been counting the years until she would be sixty or maybe eighty or maybe a hundred…. (Honestly, he would probably have moved on before then and … this is all very hypothetical now. Never mind.)

I nodded slowly, because … good question. “I can’t tell you yet,” I told him honestly. “I cannot convey the answer to you at this point in linear time,” I quickly added. “Because … it depends on things which have not happened yet in ways that it would not be useful to tell you.” I paused for a second. “Sorry. Believe it or not, I know from experience how hard that kind of non-answer really is.”

I watched him swallow hard. “What use are you even?”

I smiled slightly, wearily at him, because … yeah, buddy. I know. I knew. “I’ll tell Aleren we finally spoke. I told her to leave this to me, many years ago, when we first spoke. To wait for me to approach you personally. She can’t help you, not with this.”

Not with what? I felt him silently screaming at me, all in the eyes. Trust me. It was all there, in the eyes. He didn’t have to say a word for me to hear him screaming the words at me.

If only I could give him a roadmap, but all I could do – all I can do is write down the trail he blazed for … so many people. So many people, Vikom.

So many people.

Believe it or not. You can never know the path not taken, but you can know that the path taken has been wild, hasn’t it?

Among other things, you stole my cat. You stole. My cat.

*Author’s note: I’m speeding up the chapters because I decided to rewrite this entire section and make Book 1 much shorter than in the original version, so two more chapters before a total re-ordering of the original plotline for last years NaNo (National Novel Writing Month) novel, the first NaNo I did after the said fall of the official NaNoWriMo due to various controversies, which – for me as for many of my fellow writers I know, just felt weird. And meta. And weird. And whew that was a lot more words even than the previous words. This is all very cathartic for me now, NGL.*