Rashkal couldn't stop talking.

The story had started small. A few quiet words exchanged over drinks at the Sea Serpent Tavern, his voice low, eyes darting around as if afraid someone might overhear.

"I'm telling you," Rashkal whispered to a sailor slumped over the bar, "this kid—he's not just any kid. He's the messenger of a god. I saw it with my own eyes!"

The sailor squinted through the haze of cheap liquor. "A god, you say?" His voice was thick with skepticism, but Rashkal leaned in, undeterred, already feeling the power of his tale unfurling. His voice took on a conspiratorial edge, weaving mystery into every word.

"Not just any god. The Great Sage Who Sees All." Rashkal's hand trembled as he gestured grandly, his fingers tracing an invisible circle in the air. "He knew things about me… things no one could possibly know. I didn't tell him a damn thing, but he—he saw right through me. My journey, my business—he knew it all, like he was reading my thoughts. It was like—like he wasn't even human."

The sailor raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting Rashkal continue. And continue he did.

"The boy—the one they call Raven," Rashkal said, his voice swelling with reverence, "he's the Sage's messenger. He guided me to this place, this temple hidden in the shadows. You could feel the power in the air, thick and heavy. And the Sage—he was sitting there, eyes closed, like he didn't even need to see to know everything about you. He knew my past, my struggles. He spoke to Raven, and Raven… he gave me the message."

"What message?" the sailor asked, a hint of curiosity flickering beneath his weariness.

Rashkal's eyes widened, his breath coming faster, as if he were reliving the moment. "A warning. He said that if I didn't change my ways—if I didn't take the path that the Sage showed me—my future would be lost. Gone! Like sand through my fingers." His hands mimicked the gesture, fingers spreading wide as if to show the fleeting nature of fate.

The sailor let out a half-hearted chuckle. "And did the kid give you a map for this 'path' of yours?"

"No map," Rashkal said, his voice now deadly serious. "Just wisdom. Ancient, divine wisdom. I left that place shaken. Changed. And I swear to you… if you don't believe me, go find Raven yourself. He's there, waiting for anyone brave enough to face the Sage."

The sailor shook his head, laughing under his breath, but the seed had been planted.

By the time Rashkal told the story a third time, it had grown.

It was no longer a small shack he had visited but a grand, secret temple hidden deep in the heart of Jhaari, guarded by mystical forces. The boy, Raven, was no ordinary child but a divine emissary chosen by the gods themselves to speak for the Sage. And the Sage? He had transformed into something far more than just a mysterious figure.

"The Sage sees through time!" Rashkal boasted to a group of merchants gathered around him in the market square. His arms waved dramatically, drawing in the growing crowd. "He knew my past, my present, and he saw my future as clearly as I see you standing before me now! He knew things—terrible things—that are coming. He saved me! If it weren't for Raven and the Sage, I'd be dead by now, I'm sure of it."

The merchants exchanged glances, unsure whether to laugh or lean in closer. But Rashkal was already caught up in his own web of exaggeration, his words picking up speed, his voice rising.

"And the Sage… oh, the Sage. He doesn't just know things—he controls fate! He warned me, said that unless I followed his guidance, misfortune would befall me. But for those who listen—those who believe—he offers something greater than gold or jewels. He offers power."

The crowd around him began to murmur. Someone in the back scoffed, but others leaned forward, hungry for more. Rashkal was practically vibrating with excitement now, his hands shaking as he spoke.

"Mark my words, friends," he said, his voice trembling with conviction, "the Sage sees all. And if you're smart, you'll seek him out before it's too late. Who knows what secrets he might reveal to you?"

One of the merchants—a heavy-set man with a skeptical sneer—crossed his arms. "And what did it cost you, this divine wisdom?"

Rashkal grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Not a single coin. The Sage isn't interested in money. All he asks is that you listen. That you trust in his vision." He paused dramatically. "That you believe."

The crowd was silent, tension hanging in the air as people exchanged glances. The skeptical merchant huffed and walked away, but several others lingered, curiosity tugging at them, whispering questions under their breath.

By the time Rashkal left the marketplace, his story had taken on a life of its own.

The next day, the rumors had spread even further, spilling from the taverns into the streets like wildfire. Rashkal's tale had grown once again, now whispered with a kind of reverence usually reserved for legends and prophets.

And as more and more people heard the story, more and more came seeking Raven and his mysterious Sage.

__________________________________

Wisteria Lane was her name—once a devoted housewife, now a desperate wanderer. Three months ago, her world had been turned upside down. She had found out she was pregnant with her husband's child—a discovery that filled her with disbelief, even terror. She hadn't been unfaithful, and yet… she had never lain with her husband. The thought gnawed at her, unexplainable and terrifying. She knew her husband would be furious, but there were no answers, only confusion and fear.

That was when she heard the whispers. Whispers of Kami-sama, a god who could see through all things, who knew the deepest truths hidden from mortals. No one else believed the stories, dismissing them as wild tales from desperate people. But Wisteria had nothing left to believe in, and in the hollow recesses of her soul, she needed something—anything—greater than herself. She clung to that fragile hope, for humans always sought faith when there was nothing else to hold on to.

Leaving her home with only a few coins, Wisteria traveled far and wide, enduring harsh roads and unforgiving nights. At last, she stood before the fabled place: a dilapidated building that bore a warning scrawled in crude letters: "Do Not Enter—Unsafe for Mortals." She ignored it, stepping forward with trembling determination. As she pushed through the door, the sounds of soft running and hushed whispers echoed around her, but she pressed on, undeterred.

Inside, the air was thick, suffused with an oppressive sense of something ancient and powerful. Shadows flickered along the walls, giving the room a strange, otherworldly quality. Before her sat a figure—cloaked in mystery—his eyes shut, a necklace of skulls hanging heavily around his neck. His posture was still, meditative, his hand raised in silent command. Behind him, a strange light glowed, as if the sun itself were contained within the room, casting an eerie glow over his form.

"You have finally arrived," came a deep, resonant voice. It was impossible, for the man's lips had not moved. The voice echoed from all directions, as if the very air itself was speaking.

Wisteria's breath caught in her throat, her body trembling as she struggled to remain standing. The sheer awe of the moment overwhelmed her, and without realizing it, she fell to her knees, bowing before the figure she now believed to be divine. Tears welled in her eyes as the last fragments of her doubt crumbled into dust.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"I... I am Wisteria Lane," she stammered, her voice shaking. "I have come here seeking—"

"I know," the voice interrupted, calm and unyielding. "I know everything, Wisteria Lane."

The certainty in the voice sent a chill through her. Of course, he knew. He was Kami-sama, the All-Seeing God. Why wouldn't he know her? Why wouldn't he already understand the fear that had driven her to this place?

"You come here seeking help for a shadow that looms over someone small and precious," the voice continued, echoing softly around the room.

Wisteria's heart froze in her chest. How did he know? The tears she had been holding back broke free, and she began to sob, her body shaking with emotion. "Yes, Kami-sama," she gasped. "My unborn child… I don't know what to do. My husband—he won't believe me. No one will."

There was a pause, long and heavy, before the voice spoke again, calm and all-knowing. "You seek help. But the gods are not permitted to interfere in mortal affairs. Even so, you have come far, and I will offer you guidance."

Wisteria's hands clenched into fists as she wept, her belief in the god before her growing with every word he spoke. She barely dared to breathe, hanging on his every sentence, desperate for hope.

"Seek help 'from within the family,'" Kami-sama said, his voice like a soft command. "There, you will find your answer."

Wisteria's breath hitched as reverence filled her. He knows where I came from, she thought. He knows everything.

"And now, my dear child, return home and seek the help you need from your family," the voice commanded.

Her head spun in confusion. Return home? How could she face her husband without answers? She opened her mouth to ask another question, but the voice cut her off.

"There is no need for anything else."

Wisteria frowned, confused by his sudden shift in tone. "No need?" she repeated, unsure of what he meant. But as she looked down, she realized her hands were fumbling with her pockets, pulling out the last of her coins. Of course, she had wanted to offer him something—payment for his divine intervention. But he had known. He had predicted it. He had seen it before she even realized.

"No need for money, my child," Kami-sama said, as if reading her mind. "If you wish to repay my kindness, spread the word of me and my messenger. Let the world know. That will be enough."

Wisteria's heart swelled with gratitude. Even now, the god thought only of others, of how he could help more of the suffering mortals. He asked for no gold, no treasures, only her faith.

"I will, Kami-sama! I will tell everyone of your greatness!" She clapped her hands together, tears streaming down her face. "All hail the One Who Sees in the World of the Blind!"

"Kami-sama," she added, hesitantly, "if I may ask… where is Raven, your messenger?"

There was a brief silence before the voice responded. "Raven is in his true form today, a cursed raven. It is the price we pay when we walk the mortal realm. He flies now, but I have been spared from the curse temporarily. That is why I speak to you directly."

Wisteria's heart ached. He sacrificed so much for us, she thought. Even his messenger suffers to bring us this divine knowledge.

Suddenly, the figure before her seemed to shift, as if his very form was changing. In an instant, Kami-sama appeared to have four arms, each raised in an ethereal gesture. From one of those hands, a small object appeared—a pill, glowing faintly in the dim light.

"Take this," the voice said, as one of the arms extended toward her.

Wisteria reached out, her hands trembling as she took the pill. "What is it, Kami-sama, if I may ask?"

"It is an All-Cure Pill," the voice responded, its tone soft but absolute. "It will purge all the negativity from within you."

Wisteria clutched the pill to her chest, nodding fervently. She was overcome with emotion, unable to speak, her heart full of gratitude. With one last tearful bow, she rose and left the chamber, her faith in Kami-sama solidified beyond question.

But she never realized she had been fooled.

_______________________________

Wisteria Lane had never felt so alive.

She stood in the bustling marketplace of Jhaari, her voice rising above the din of merchants haggling and children playing in the dusty streets. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide with fervor as she preached, her hands trembling with excitement as she spoke.

"People of Jhaari, hear me!" she called out, arms outstretched like a prophetess. "I have been chosen by Kami-sama, the All-Seeing God! He has granted me his wisdom, and through his guidance, I have been saved! I am the One Chosen by the Sage!"

A few passersby stopped, drawn by her voice and her intensity. At first, they stared with skeptical eyes, but Wisteria's passion was undeniable. She held up a small, glowing pill in her palm, her hand shaking with the weight of its significance.

"Look! Behold the proof!" she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. "This—this is the All-Cure Pill, given to me by Kami-sama himself! It cleanses all the darkness, all the negativity from within you. It is a gift from the heavens!"

A murmur rippled through the growing crowd, eyes widening as they stared at the strange pill gleaming in her hand. She pressed it against her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"Kami-sama is real! I stood before him, and he spoke to me! He knew everything about me—my fears, my struggles. He even knew of my child before I said a word! He sees all, for he is the god who watches over us in the world of the blind!"

People whispered among themselves, intrigued by the passion in her voice, the raw belief that radiated from every word she spoke. Wisteria wasn't just telling a story—she was living it, breathing it, and those who listened couldn't help but feel the magnetic pull of her faith.

"And you," she said, pointing toward a skeptical-looking man in the crowd, "you too can be saved! You too can seek guidance from Kami-sama. He is there, waiting for you, offering salvation to all who come with open hearts!"

The man, startled by her directness, shifted uncomfortably but didn't walk away. More people gathered, their curiosity piqued. It wasn't just her words—it was the strange pill in her hand, the glow that seemed unnatural, as if touched by divine power.

"He has freed me from my suffering," she continued, raising her arms toward the sky. "And he can free you too! But you must believe! You must go to him, seek his guidance, and you will find the answers you seek."

People began to nod, captivated by her conviction. Some of them looked eager, desperate even. Others whispered among themselves, casting furtive glances at the glowing pill, wondering what truth lay behind the woman's claims. But Wisteria's voice carried an unmistakable sense of truth.

"I was lost, just like you," Wisteria said, lowering her voice to a reverent whisper. "But Kami-sama found me. He will find you too."

Wisteria Lane wasn't the only one spreading the word. As her voice echoed through the marketplace, drawing people toward her tale of salvation and divine intervention, others who had encountered the mysterious Kami-sama began adding their own experiences, building the myth.

Among the crowd stood Rashkal, watching with wide-eyed wonder as Wisteria proclaimed herself the One Chosen by the Sage. His heartbeat quickened as he heard her describe the divine encounter, the pill, the wisdom given to her. It all sounded so familiar, so much like his own experience.

He couldn't help himself. His body moved before his mind could catch up, pushing through the crowd, eager to support her story.

"I—I was there too!" Rashkal shouted, his voice trembling with excitement. Heads turned toward him, curious about his experience

"You've heard of me, haven't you? I was the first to hear Kami-sama's words," Rashkal continued, his voice trembling with reverence. "I am the one who first felt the Sage's power. They called me The Original Son for that reason."

A few murmurs rose from the crowd, some nodding in recognition. His earlier tales had taken root. His belief is now a legend of its own.

Wisteria's eyes widened as she processed his words. She stared at Rashkal, her heart pounding in her chest. Could it be true? Her lips trembled, the weight of the moment overwhelming her. Slowly, she sank to her knees before him, her voice barely a whisper. "Oh... Great First One," she murmured, her belief solidifying like stone, "I never imagined meeting you here."

A hush fell over the crowd as Wisteria's voice echoed through the marketplace. Some onlookers exchanged uneasy glances, while others murmured their own prayers under their breath, emboldened by her display of faith. Slowly, one by one, a few more dropped to their knees, their eyes wide with reverence. The frenzy spread like a wildfire, fueled by desperation and the promise of salvation. Those who had doubted moments ago now whispered Kami-sama's name, their disbelief crumbling in the wake of the growing hysteria.

Akshran watched as Rashkal soaked in the crowd's adoration, the self-proclaimed Original Son reveling in his newfound status. For a moment, Akshran felt the urge to roll his eyes, but he stifled it, biting into his apple instead. It didn't matter. Let them worship Rashkal for now—everything they built still fed into his plans.

Meanwhile, Akshran watched the scene unfold in silent bewilderment, biting into an apple. He wasn't sure what the fuck was happening, and frankly, he didn't care.

'How deluded they are,' Akshran mused, chewing thoughtfully. 'When a mob is swayed by a single voice, reason dies, snuffed out like a candle in the gale of belief.'

He took another bite, the crunch breaking the stillness. 'Humans flock to the unknown, not for truth, but for the thrill of its mystery. Belief is their sanctuary, cloaking the void in meaning, offering comfort in the shadows where reason dares not wander. But does this thirst for the unknown drive them toward understanding, or merely entrap them in the illusions they so desperately crave?'

Akshran glanced at Rashkal, whose words were steeped in misplaced grandeur, and sighed inwardly. The apple, at least, was real.

Akshran took another bite of his apple, watching the crowd swell around Wisteria and Rashkal. Their belief, as intoxicating as it was absurd, had grown beyond his initial scheme. He hadn't anticipated this level of hysteria—yet, perhaps, this was better. With so many caught in the ploy, he could ask for more. The money, the influence, the power—it was all within his grasp now. He'd just have to fan the flames a little more.

'Let them flock,' Akshran mused, chewing thoughtfully. 'The larger the crowd, the bigger the prize.'