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“Huh,” mused Ibai, a smile reforming on his lips again. “Sounds like an interesting person to talk to!”

The Weaver tittered another time. ‘You think so, do you? I do not know if I would agree, but I can at least say with confidence that I would enjoy listening to YOU speak to her.’

“Meeting new people is always fun,” he said.

‘I shan’t try to rain on your parade. As for Ettol, I assume you are also curious about him?’

“Of course! What’s his deal? God of Deceit, right? That doesn’t sound very flattering.”

‘Yes. Most of the primordial gods are portrayed, at times, as both benevolent and malicious, depending on which story you are hearing or reading. But Ettol has, without a doubt, the wildest swings in portrayal out of any of them. In some tales, he tricks his victims into the cruelest of circumstances imaginable. I remember a story in which he appears in the dreams of a young, newlywed man, promising him riches, glory, and power if he would only leave his pregnant wife behind to pursue them.

‘The young man does so, and over the course of his journey, the lad is cursed by a witch and turned into a cotton-eating weevil. The “riches” he earns are a field of cotton, so that he will never again go hungry. The “glory” he earns is that he becomes king of his fellow weevils. And the “power” he earns is immortality, which Ettol grants to him directly after appearing before him again and explaining the previous two “rewards.”’

Ibai’s smile diminished as he continued to listen with widening eyes.

‘In another story, however, Ettol appears in the dreams of a young woman who has a vile and cruel mother. He lays out a plan for her to take up a knife while the woman is out gathering wood for a fire, then plunge it into her heart after she falls asleep. But when the girl refuses, Ettol changes her mother’s heart, filling it with love and kindness for her daughter so that the two may live happily thereafter.’

“I see...”

‘But those are just the stories where he plays the part of a trickster god. He frequently appears in the stories of other gods, albeit stealthily so. You may read one story about Lhutwë, for example, wherein a sea serpent is featured prominently and Ettol is never mentioned. But then you may find out in an entirely different story that Ettol was that sea serpent all along and that he was either helping Lhutwë or throwing a wrench into the Water God’s scheme by aiding the involved humans. That is the type of god he is.’