“Ok, we’re literally heading for Blessed 26 right this very moment; now can you tell me more about the mortal species?” Stories whined as the three flew in the direction of their next experiment site.

“And as I’ve mentioned before; outside of what they look like, you don’t need to know any more. You’ll just find another way to mess things up. Like you did with Renewal.”

“Hey, that whole debacle was YOUR screw-up! Not mine.” The lesser God huffed and crossed his arms in indignation. “You get in here too, Survival. Surely you have some sort of gripe with this damned hag too?”

“No, mate. All good here from me. Whatever madam Order says, goes.” The giant meekly replied, nary a hint of the brash masculinity that he’d displayed when Stories had first met him.

Geez, Stories thought. I know Order said she beat him up, but you’d think after a year or two he’d have forgotten about the whole thrashing dealio. Oh wait, I suppose that’s why he’s projecting his aura around the planet in such a flashy manner. It’s over-compensation for a bruised ego - gotta show strength any way you can if you’ve been trounced by someone way weaker than you. It’s not like I don’t get where he’s coming from, though - I mean, if I got beaten up by Truth, I’d probably want to crawl into a small cubby hole and cry too.

The thought conjured up an image of the airheaded woman delivering two quick right jabs to his ribcage, followed up by a haymaker to his chin, all while grinning goofily. Stories shuddered at that imaginary scenario. Yeah, if that actually happened in real life, he’d probably be as traumatized as Survival was. The disconnect between the weak impression that Order gave off and the absolute obliteration Survival received in their bout probably etched itself deeply into his mind; to the point that he’d throw away all semblance of his pride and arrogance and submit to whatever she desired.

In a way, Stories mused, it’s exactly in line with his beliefs; the strongest takes it all, and the weakest has to fall. Can’t argue with that!

“Well, alright, can you at least tell us where they live? Probably necessary if you’re going to want us to go pick up a couple of them to plop in a corner for testing.”

Order glowered at the lesser God. Did he need to ask so many questions? Just shut up and do as you’re told.

“They live in trees, alright? From my notes, their entire lives revolve around large, sturdy trees which house wooden structures where they sleep and play. Like less hairy, slightly more developed primates. They only occasionally leave their treetop abodes to scavenge for food and water, so it’ll be more expedient to grab them from their homes. On the other hand, it’ll be a massive waste of divine energy if we have to go that route. I suppose if we’re forced to, we can make camp at the foot of one of these trees, and pick them off one by one while they depart to gather supplies.”

“Monkeys, huh? Are you sure those notes are up to date?” Stories scratched his head in thought. “Cause there’s a world of difference between the planet a few centuries ago and now, y’know? And that, whatchamacallit, divine aura from the divine realm? That’d probably speed up the growth of a species, right?”

Order rolled the idea over in her mind. The fool… had a point. Since Blessed 26 was so close to the divine realm, it would have been one of the first few planets that she’d documented. And yeah, at the time, the long eared humanoids – elves, she’d called them – had been slightly more developed monkeys, only capable of communicating with one another using a series of grunts and rough vocalisations. Stuff akin to warning each other of danger, or getting one’s attention. The lifeforms she’d encountered at the time didn’t even have the mental wherewithal to wear clothing to keep warm on cold days. They’d huddled together on the trees they lived on, shuddering as they pulled each other’s bodies close to raise their body temperature.

But all of that would have been just under six centuries ago.

Which was why when Order finally met one of the native mortals face-to-face, who had called out to her instead of the other way around, she was rather intrigued by the stark differences between her initial impressions and their current stage of development. They’d begun to use implements like bow and arrows to hunt for food. Judging from the large bag next to the male elf, they were quite proficient at the task, too. On top of that, the two were clothed in animal skin, stitched together with woven thread. Monkeys, they certainly were not. And most interesting of all, they spoke in the Godly tongue – something that only mortals that had interacted with Gods would have picked up.

Well, Order thought. This is a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Intelligence. Yes, intelligence is good. Intelligence means that I won’t have to go to the hassle of dragging them out from their treetops one by one by force. They can be communicated with. And if they can be communicated with, they can be persuaded to leave their homes of their own accord. She smirked to herself. This experiment was going to be done quicker than she’d expected.

With a bow, the God of Order and Knowledge introduced herself to the two elves before her.

“You may address me as the God of Order and Knowledge. And I am here today to bestow onto your people a great blessing.”

======================================================

Treen shifted uneasily in place. She’d left Leffy down below to watch the so-called God of Order while she returned to meet with the elders and consult with them on what to do in this situation. But rather than take her pleas seriously, the guards had laughed it off when she’d first approached them, shooing her away with a dismissive line or two about how she was sap-drunk. Naturally, the elven girl went straight to the universally understood language: violence. After knocking out the two buffoons, she barged through the door and headed for the inner chambers. This commotion didn’t go unnoticed by another set of guards on the next tree over, who then proceeded to sound the alarm, leading to her having to deal with the following five or so guards as well.

One thing led to another, and now Treen was standing in front of the eight elven chieftains, bound from head to toe with elaborate rope knots. She’d been asked to explain the reason for her urgency directly to the most respected leaders of their tribe. Under threat of execution, of course.

“And that,” Treen exhaled. “is everything.”

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“A God, you say? Surely you jest.”

“What sort of mockery do you intend to throw at our feet?! How exactly do you expect us to respond to this?!”

“Off with her head!”

“Bob, you can’t just decapitate everyone you don’t like.”

“Silence.” The singular utterance cut through the clamour and brought the rowdy chatter to a quick end. It was the eldest of the chieftains, Root, that had spoken. He got up slowly, old bones creaking as he pushed himself off the floor with a shaky, unsteady hand. He looked Treen straight in her eyes, and she returned the gaze with a nervous glance. The elder had lost much height with time, his wiry, hunched-over frame only coming up to Treen’s chest. And it had been so much time – if Treen had it correct, around about three centuries. It was a wonder he didn’t disintegrate into a pile of dust by exerting so much effort just to stand up. Root spoke, a weary, seasoned voice coming from aged vocal chords.

“Young lady, I’ve met a God before as well, so I won’t discount your words as simply as the other elders. He named himself too – a God of Greed. I do believe that on this day, you have indeed met with a deity beyond our understanding. But that isn’t my concern here. What I have to ask is this – the God I knew was self-serving to his core. Yes, he gave us wonderful blessings in the form of the language we speak, and knowledge on the trees that we now derive such great bounties from. But,” Root paused, emphasizing the next words he was about to say.

“he wanted things. Specifically, he wanted an amulet of our people – an artefact that had protected our people for generations. Well, I always believed it was more of a good-luck charm really. Didn’t stop my brother from getting mauled by a bear, anyways. But I don’t think that deity wanted it for the supposed protective qualities our people had mythologized about it. No, I believe he just wanted that fist-sized ruby because it shone in just the right way. Or perhaps he just wanted something of value to us, so that he could hoard it for himself. Or maybe it just caught his eye, and he just had to have it.” Root laid a bony palm on Treen’s arm, gripping it with as much force as his withered arm could muster.

“The question is, what does this God of Order want?”

Treen gulped, still maintaining eye contact with the elven leader. “She didn’t say. She just wanted to meet with a couple of us, and she’d… bless them in some way. To make them stronger. Better.”

Root held the gaze a few moments more, before letting go of her arm, and shakily taking a few steps back to return to his seated position.

“Well, I’ve only met one God so far, so it isn’t like I’m an absolute authority on them. For all we know, she could be lying to serve some hidden agenda. But, the one God that I have met, well, he was trustworthy enough to hold up his end of the deal. And from what I can tell, these Gods, their title is exactly what they are. Mine was greedy beyond compare, just like his title. And yours? Yours seems to abide by rules, by structure. I have no doubt in my mind that what she says is not a deception. In her mind, her words serve to further the regulation of order. No matter what form that order may take. I say you acquiesce for now, bring one of Leffy’s friends with you – that boy, Barkly?” Root waited for Treen to nod in acknowledgement before continuing.

“I believe three people will be enough. Just to gauge the effects of this so-called blessing. If there are no adverse effects, well, it won’t be too late to get the rest of the tribe in at that time.” Root motioned to a guard to untie the elven girl.

“But Treen,” Root spoke gravely, just as the last of the ropes binding her had fallen to the ground. “at the first sign of trouble, you let us know. And no matter if they’re a God or a Devil, the elven tribe will bring down our full might onto them.”

======================================================

“Well, Treen. I see you brought a friend with you.” Order called out, watching the two elves nimbly scale down the trunk.

“Oh, that’s Barkly.” Leffy volunteered. “He’s one of the best all-rounders in the tribe at the moment. He can fight a bear in hand-to-hand combat: and win! He’s who I want to be when I grow up.”

“I… see.” Order didn’t care for the small talk. But it did tell her that Treen had brought with her someone that was fit and able. The general goal of the experiment was still the extension of mortal lifespans, of course. But that wasn’t exactly what Order was testing for here. No, the mechanism of godly powers filtered through mortal forms yielded wildly unpredictable effects, often accelerating some aspect of the mortal condition.

What Order really wanted from this test with Survival was to see how his ability in particular would interact with a mortal – how it would give them a new perspective on life. Hopefully, one that would lead to them living longer, and maintaining peak physicality while they were at it. In other words, aging gracefully. Having a prime specimen of the species in her grasp would aid with the objective splendidly.

And if they died like that time with Renewal, well, that’d hit Life where it hurt, wouldn’t it?

Win-win.

“I suppose the other elves will join us soon?” Treen and Barkly had finally reached the bottom, and trudged over to the God.

“Well, miss God of Order and Knowledge, our elder says that you can give us three your blessing first. If nothing goes wrong, then the rest of us will gladly let you pass it on to them.” Order scrunched up her face. Ugh. Another bunch of idiots just getting in my way.

“I suppose… that will suffice for the moment. We’ll begin shortly - starting with this boy first.” Order placed a hand on Leffy’s shoulder.

“I don’t think that my brother should go first. If anything, I should-“

“Treen. It’s fine, ok? Are you scared that I’ll get stronger than you or something?” Leffy joked, throwing a playful punch at her.

The elven girl didn’t respond immediately. Her instincts screamed at her to grab her brother and haul tail as far away from the stranger as possible. That there was danger here. But, she reasoned to herself. Elder Root knows what he’s doing. Even if this does go south, it’ll end with just three casualties. The elven race will live on. So against all her senses, she flashed a small, reassuring smile at her younger brother, who returned the smile with a wide beaming one of his own.

The boy turned to Order and spoke, still blissfully unaware of her plans for him and his people.

“Alright, let’s do this.”