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Now Hector was confused. And more than a little unsettled. “Who are you, exactly?”

The stranger sighed. “Fine, I’ll ask the other one. You there.” He removed his right hand from his cheek in order to point. “The one in hiding. How about it? Would you like to become a god?”

“...Sure,” came Eleyo’s voice, “but not by any measure other than my own. What is a god to you?”

“To me?” the stranger said. “Nothing. A friend. A companion. It is you who have revered us as such.”

Having apparently heard enough now, Garovel decided to chime in. ‘Are you telling us that you’re a god?’

“Eh.”

What the hell kind of answer was that? Hector couldn’t decide if this man was terrifying or just kind of a weirdo. And he really hoped it didn’t turn out to be a combination of the two, because that would basically make him Ivan 2.0, and Hector was definitely not looking for a repeat of that encounter.

‘You’re a servant,’ said Garovel. ‘Where’s your reaper? I’d like to talk to them.’

The man gave a dull laugh. “I suppose it only makes sense that you would assume that. You are seeds, looking up and admiring the great trees that you wish to become. But I am no tree, little ones. I am a gardener.”

That gave everyone noticeable pause.

The stranger scratched his brow. “At least, I would be, if I cared a little more. Or at all, really. But I don’t, so... I suppose I’m more like the guy taking a nap under the trees while they flourish and grow wild all around him.”

‘Mm,’ said Garovel, his tone still thick with doubt. ‘Well, do you have a name, at least?’

“...Malast,” the man finally said.

‘Malast,’ echoed Garovel. ‘As in, “the Idle God,” Malast?’

“An unflattering name. Never cared for it much. I prefer the God of Boredom. Or the God of the Underworld, even if it is less appropriate--and certainly too grandiose for my tastes.”

‘So you ARE claiming to be a god,’ said Garovel.

Malast gave another sigh. “I guess.”

‘Well, in that case, would you mind giving a little demonstration of your godly powers for the cynics among us?’

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it.”

‘Then I’m afraid I don’t believe you’re a god.’

“Okay.”

And that was it. Malast just sat there, not saying anything else.

Hector looked from Garovel to Malast, then back again, but neither budged, though Garovel looked much more annoyed.

Hector felt a push on his shoulder and turned to see Diego there, trying to get his attention. The man was still unable to talk, apparently.

“Oh, hey, uh, could you undo whatever you did to my friend here?” said Hector.

Malast looked over at him with flat eyes. “Nah.”

Hector didn’t know what to say to that.

“But, hey, wait a second,” said Malast, “doesn’t that count as a demonstration of my power?”

‘Pfft, no,’ said Garovel. ‘I know a guy who could do that, easy, and he’s not a god.’

“Oh,” said Malast. And he gave a yawn. “Oh well.”