In front of me sits Jeanne, a lone woman in her mid-30’s. Next to her is Eric, a man who met her on this journey to our village. Both come here in search of a cure for their illness. The druid who we spoke earlier gave us the assignment of proving the effectiveness of our proposal. We were going to offer these two a cure for their illness: the fungal honey.

Jeanne was abandoned by her previous husband after proving to be infertile. Having committed adultery, he had gotten another woman pregnant. Subsequently, he left her to fend for herself. Traveling here meant searching for a way to cure her infertility. That might prove difficult, but not undoable.

Eric, meanwhile, has a disease which seems to be eating away at his muscle strength. Local doctors in his village told him his condition could only get worse, and that he only had a few more weeks at best. He spent the last of his savings to come here, hoping to stall out his life just a little longer.

“So… I just have to take a bottle of this stuff every day, and I might get better?” Jeanne asks, a tone of distrust in her voice. I understand: such a wondrous cure can’t exist, surely. Having absorbed the essence of the divine tree, though, I’m sure that my fungal honey can cure even this, given enough time. Eric also seems skeptical. “Is it truly that easy?” At the very least, he seems more open to it than Jeanne.

“The two of us can personally attest to it’s effectiveness. The fungal honey does two things: it provides your body with a stronger immune system, it amplifies positive feelings and numbs pain. Even if it doesn’t work for your particular diseases, the least it can do is alleviate your pains.” I thoroughly stare at Eric, and place my hand on the bottle, shoving it towards him. “I’m afraid no other cure exists for your condition. Not here, and certainly not in the surrounding villages.”

Eric seems easily convinced. I can see the cogs turn in his head. It’s not a lie: there is no cure for his condition. Not even the fungal honey can do anything but forestall his demise. He knows this too. With a bitter expression, he gulps down his serving of the potion. Immediately, his face clears up a little bit. “I expected it to taste worse.”

Jeanne, meanwhile, seems to be following my movements, reading my body language. She’s searching for a hint of a lie. In particular, she seems focussed on the fungal bloom in my eye. “Where did you get that? Who exactly are you?”

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I suppose they were not informed by the druid. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t fully trust us, or maybe it’s because he wants to see if I can get my story straight. “I am Lady Coedraig, protector of this village. I was reborn inside of a mortal husk after my divine tree perished. This fungus, this bloom, is to thank for my transference into this body. And, of course, the sacrifice of the noble Fals, whose body I am inhabiting. I wouldn’t be here without them.”

She squints her eyes. “The divine tree died, yet you were reborn inside of a human body? I’ve never heard something as absurd as that. Are you kidding me?” Eric, too, seems somewhat taken aback by the suggestion.

“I understand why you’d be so wary of me. But in coming here, you must admit: you were looking for Lady Coedraig’s blooms, were you not? Those famous fruits were said to grant blessings. This fungal honey is derivative of that very same divine essence. It was made through me, alongside me. You could ask the elder about it. He tasted it before you did, as did my partner here.” I rest my hand on Madarchen’s shoulder. She snickers a little.

Suspiciously, Jeanne opens her serving of fungal honey and sips on it. Similar to how Madarchen once was, she gulps it down almost instantly after the first taste. Eric’s face flushes, and he excuses himself. “I need to visit the restroom for a little bit.” It seems the fungal honey has started working on him already. Good.

After an elongated silence, Jeanne seems to almost drunkenly ask more questions. “So what do you… do? You are the village goddess, yes?” As well as “How many years have you lived for?”, and “What are your expectations of your followers?”

They are not easy questions to answer. Before my awakening in the body of Fals, I never had such thoughts. A religion is convenient to establish myself in, but the expectations that Lady Coedraig’s followers have exceed the reality of my powers. Although this fungal honey is, in fact, a cure, it also spreads the fungus itself through their bodies. Through this connection, I can feed, just as I did on the divine tree back then. I sustain myself, and my divine power, on their sacrifice, so to speak. So if anything…

I smile at Jeanne. “I expect them to help me grow. Grow, develop, spread. I want my religion to embrace all the sick, discarded, and misbegotten people in the world. Everyone who was turned away due to illness, or loneliness. I want everyone to feel welcome in Lady Coedraig’s embrace.”