Little Pink Starfish

It was the first time he had initiated a kiss. Amon’s eyes widened slightly before he parted his lips to respond. Without crushing or forcefully overpowering him, he gently placed a hand on Nyne’s back and softly stroked him. This tender gesture gave Nyne renewed hope that he might slowly persuade Amon and bring change.

As Nyne had requested, Amon joined him for dinner in his tent. The next day, he wore the emerald jewelry and walked with Nyne in the morning forest. He even caught a strange badger Nyne had never seen before and ordered a priest to tend to the slaves and praise the combat priests in his name.

Even Osen Iyad, the ever-loyal servant, followed this unprecedented order with his head deeply bowed, never once raising his gaze, his eyes hidden in the crook of his arm.

The forest air was thickest at dawn. While Nyne typically slept lazily in bed until late morning, here, he strangely found himself mentally refreshed and often awoke before sunrise.

“Sha Nyne, did you sleep well last night?”

Yiwu, standing guard outside the tent, greeted him with a smile.

“You seem to be in an exceptionally good mood today.”

Nyne began to speak but only nodded in response. It was true—he felt good. Part of it was being away from the Grand Temple, and part of it was because of what Amon had done for him the day before. In the faint light of dawn, the forest draped in mist gave him a sense of calm.

With Yiwu and the combat priests as his escort, he strolled through the forest. The damp, humid air was very different from the dry atmosphere of the Grand Temple—and oddly familiar, like a memory from a past life trying to resurface.

After a leisurely walk, he decided to go hunting again today. He had promised Amon he would do his best, so it felt right to show some proof of that effort. He hoped that Amon would remain pleased with him for as long as possible.

I wonder how other gods and their companions live…

The scriptures declared the god of Trastasa the greatest among all gods. Mentions of other gods were brief and vague—mostly referred to as gods of the south, calamity, or fire. There was scarcely a word about their companions. He hadn’t thought much of it before, but now it struck him as odd.

Why is that?

It seemed as though the gods had almost no interaction with each other. Like they were nailed to their own lands, never leaving, uninterested in one another.

Still pondering this, Nyne ate breakfast. With a full stomach, he set out to hunt with Lu, Yiwu, and several priests. Lu was still somewhat dispirited, but he seemed delighted whenever Nyne paid him attention.

“Sha Nyne, there’s a quiet clearing in the southern forest. How about having lunch there today? There’s a valley nearby, and the sound of flowing water is lovely.”

“Very well. Let’s move slowly in that direction.”

Lu, heartened by Nyne’s approval, moved a bit more lively. They followed a small river through the forest, heading upstream to the valley Lu mentioned. As they moved under the shade of the trees, Lu scratched at his skin and grumbled.

“The forest is cool, but there are far too many bugs. Mosquitoes and gnats have bitten me all over. Sha Nyne, have you been bitten at all?”

“Mosquitoes? I’ve seen a few, but none have bitten me.”

Indeed, Lu and the other priests had red, swollen spots on their limbs. Some had clearly scratched unconsciously, making it worse. Meanwhile, the combat priests’ skin was pristine—either they swatted the bugs away in time or their skin was too tough to bother.

“Well, there are many enchantments on Sha’s tent, after all. Still…”

Lu blamed himself for not paying closer attention. He spun around, checking Nyne’s arms and legs carefully, then exclaimed.

“Your calf wound is already healed! Not even a trace remains, Sha Nyne. The ointment must have worked well.”

“It was barely a wound to begin with. Of course there’s no scar.”

Feeling embarrassed that such a small injury had caused so much fuss, Nyne waved it off and quickened his pace to shift the topic. Just then, a familiar bird caught his eye. He couldn’t quite place where he’d seen it before, but Yiwu, as always, quickly supplied the answer.

“It’s a sandpiper, Sha.”

“A sandpiper…”

He murmured, as if something was on the tip of his mind. Lu quickly interjected between them.

“They’re also called crocodile birds. They go in and out of a crocodile’s mouth to clean its teeth.”

“That’s a misconception. They don’t clean crocodiles’ mouths. They’d become crocodile snacks if they tried. They just pick at bugs and seeds.”

Lu glared at Yiwu, then drooped again. Yiwu raised an eyebrow with a look of amusement, like watching a child. Seeing Lu so deflated, Nyne felt pity and decided to take his side.

“I like the version where they clean the crocodile’s mouth better.”

Yiwu gave a knowing grin but quickly masked it before Lu could see. Nyne patted Lu on the shoulder and held out a hand. A waiting priest knelt and offered him his bow and arrows with reverence.

Following the river, Nyne had already hunted a deer and two rabbits—all of which he intended to offer to Amon.

Let’s make Amon even happier. Then maybe… maybe he’ll listen to me more willingly.

Nyne was clinging to Gwen’s words—the idea of gods who tolerate human irreverence. Gods who didn’t demand human sacrifice…

The scriptures said Amon and Nyne would live together for eternity. But such a vast, exaggerated concept meant little to a human who might not even live a hundred years. What he could believe in were the small changes in Amon—his rare approval of the fireflies that loved the breeze, his occasional gentleness. These tiny, uncertain hopes made Nyne feel better.

He nocked an arrow and aimed at a sandpiper strutting along the riverbank. Its dark gray feathers blended with the stones, but he could still pick it out. The arrow flew sharp through the air and pierced the bird cleanly in the head.

Startled by their fallen companion, the other sandpipers took flight. Nyne snatched the next arrow and targeted a flying one. A few seconds of aim—and release. Another sandpiper dropped from the sky.

“Incredible, Sha Nyne! How can you shoot two in a row like that?”

Lu gushed, praising Nyne’s growing archery skills. Combat priests soon returned with the birds, all shot cleanly through the head—killed instantly and painlessly. After removing the arrows, they placed them in a sack that gradually soaked with blood.

Nyne continued hunting as they moved along the river, catching several more sandpipers. Before noon, they arrived at the clearing Lu had mentioned.

“What do you think, Sha Nyne?”

Lu puffed up with pride like he owned the place. Sunlight glittered off the stream like diamond paths, while the clearing itself remained cool under the long shadows of trees. It looked like Lu had already prepped the place—level ground, trimmed grass.

“A fine place to rest.”

“Right? I think it’d be best to stay here until the sun dips a little.”

The priests laid out wide mats woven from rushes to keep bugs away and keep the ground cool. They carefully unpacked the food they had brought and spread it out. Though eating on the ground could be uncomfortable, Nyne had no such issue—he sat back against a tree, being fanned, as the priests served food on small plates.

Though they must have been hungry, none of the priests showed it. Only Lu, favored by Nyne, got to sit nearby and taste things here and there.

The food was too plentiful for just Nyne. After finishing his meal, he stopped the priest who was about to discard the leftovers.

“If we throw it out, animals might come. And it’d be a waste. Share it among yourselves.”

“We are honored, Sha. Thank you for your grace.”

Though it was merely leftover food, the priests were overjoyed. What Sha ate was far superior to anything they typically had. Unless one was a high priest like an Am-Net or Ha-Net, this kind of fare was out of reach. And to loyal followers, eating what Sha had touched was akin to receiving a divine blessing.

Because they still had to serve and guard Nyne, the priests split into two groups to eat. While they dined, Nyne dipped his feet in the clear stream. The water was so pristine that little fish nibbled at his toes. A breeze blew gently.

It was, without a doubt, a perfectly peaceful and pleasant moment.