The god spoke softly, with a hollow in his voice.
“I did not come seeking a god,” he replied, in slight awe of finding anyone at all let alone a god.
His eyes strained in the dark of the dilapidated temple. The walls and ceiling remained, mostly. An occasional brick was missing here and there, allowing the faintest ray of sun to find its way in. The torches had long since wasted away to nothing, their brackets hanging empty.
“They all come seeking a god,” the god spoke. “And they are all disappointed. They all want something; you are no different.”
His voice came to the man from further within the temple as the god retreated into its depths.
The man contemplated before he replied. “I suppose you are right, in a way. Though I did not come seeking anything from a god. I did want a quiet place to think, if it’s alright with you that I stay.”
“Do as you wish, but I cannot grant you anything,” the god said.
“That suits me just fine,” the man replied. There he sat against the cool walls of the temple as he contemplated his thoughts in silence.
It was well into the evening when he left for home, asking politely before he left, “if it’s not too much of a bother, may I return again? I quite like it here and your quiet company is a comfort to me.”
The man took the lack of response as a yes, whistling a quiet tune as he walked down the steps to the dirt road.
In a few days, the man returned. He was mumbled to himself as he walked up the steps to the once-great temple but still allowed himself a pause.
“Great god of this tranquil temple. May I come in?” The man asked.
He waited several long moments before the god finally replied yes. He entered that hallowed ground and took to his muttering again. The god could hear him from within the temple depths. His words echoed off the walls in incoherent strains. They passed the day that way, the man talking to himself as he paced about and the god silently listening.
Dusk began to fall and the man said his goodbyes. He turned at the top of the stairs and again asked if he may return soon.
“Yes, but don’t ask of me anything. There is nothing I can give,” the god said.
The man only smiled, his mind at peace from the day.
Many days passed with the god looking out the doorway to see if the man would come by again. And again he returned, talking to himself as he moved his hands around in the air. He stopped at the top of the steps asking permission to the open temple.
“I wish to be left alone,” the god said. “But if you ask nothing if me, you may come.”
The man noticed the god’s voice came from not so deep within the temple. The man put it out of his mind as he paced and talked, discussing his problems with himself and sorting through potential solutions.
The man finished his thoughts and sat against the temple wall above the steps, watching the sun set across a vast field. Shuffling steps turned his attention to the god, still within the shadows of the temple.
“May I join you?” The god asked.
“You may. But I cannot grant you anything,” the man replied.
The faintest quiver of a smile graced the god’s lips. Just a shadow and then it was gone. He sat near the door and looked out at the field for the first time in many years, watching the sun set. It had been so long, he couldn’t tell if the warmth was from the sun or from the man sitting next to him.
The next day the man returned again. He brought a satchel and promptly sat down on the top of the steps, spreading papers and plans across the floor. He occasionally pulled this and that from the bag as he sketched his designs and jotted done his notes. The god roamed the temple, looking over his shoulder every now and then. About midday, the man held out an apple to the god without looking up from his notes.
The god took the apple and sat down next to him, looking at the man’s work. The god didn’t say a word, not daring to disrupt his concentration. In the afternoon, the god fell asleep in the warmth of the sun.
The man finished his sketches and looked down at the sleeping god. The god looked peaceful and calm, the lines of his forehead gone in his relaxed state. He stood and stretched, careful not to wake the sleeping deity, and compared his sketches to the temple. He flipped page after page, blueprint after blueprint while walking the halls of the temple. When he was done, he stepped over the sleeping god and made his way home.
Many days went by with the god looking at the doorway of his ancient temple. He expected the man to come back everyday and each day he was disappointed. He thought he had seen the last of him, quietly sad he had slept through his final departure.
Two weeks had passed and in the morning sun, the god saw a wagon approach led by four beautiful brown and white horses. The wagon stopped at the temple base and the man dismounted, skipping every other step as he jogged up the stairs.
"Great god!" he announced. "We have brought you an offering if you will receive it."
There was silence from within broken only by the wind rustling the vines growing up the walls.
Finally the faintest whisper crept from inside.
"I cannot grant you anything..." it said.
The man turned to walk down the stairs, then turned back and replied, "I did not ask for anything."
He signaled down to the wagon with a whistle and four more men leapt out of the back. The began to unload supplies and organize it into piles. Tools, brick, mortar, timber. The man descended the stairs and retrieved a set of papers. They began to walk around the temple, looking up at the walls then referencing the drawings. They made a loop around the temple's base meeting back at the wagon and the piles of supplies. The took a short time to discuss and then quickly moved to work.
Up the stairs; brick and mortar. Down the stairs; more supplies. Up the stairs; timber bracing. Down the stairs; more supplies.
They continued throughout the day building braces and shoring up walls and collapsed ceiling. The broke only once for food from the wagon but pushed on in their work. When they were satisfied with the structure, the tools and remaining supplies were stored back in the wagon and out came brooms and shovels. They cleaned out all of the broken brick and debris on the floor. The cut down the vines and tore out the roots. New torches were placed in the brackets and the darkness retreated in the new light. The altar was cleaned and polished, dirt swept clean from the floor.
With the setting sun, the men sat at the edge of the temple outside of the door drinking ale and laughing aloud.
Finally the god showed his face and in his meakness said, "What do you seek? I cannot grant much, probably nothing. But I will give you all I can."
The four men were startled. They had never seen a god, let alone heard one speak. But the one man had talked to this god before. He held out a spare mug of ale and replied softly.
"I came looking for silence, a place to think clearly. I came looking for a place away from the hustle of the city to lay out my thoughts to their conclusions. You have offered me nothing but have given me a quiet presence nearby. You have told me you cannot grant anything of my wishes yet have provided me a step to sit on, a place to think."
The god's eyes began to wet. "Will you not have more? For your time? For your work? Your sweat has anointed these steps. Is that worth nothing to you?" The god questioned.
The man turned to the other four and one by one they spoke.
"We were not told to rebuild this temple."
"I asked if I could join."
"I was able so I came too."
The man spoke last, "Why do you feel you owe us anything? We have asked nothing of you. You cannot pay us for a gift. It would not be a gift if you did. But you may sit with us here in your fine temple. And you may drink this ale."
The god reached out slowly and took the mug he was offered and sat down with the men. He listened to their stories of the last week, tales of their children and their wives. He listened to these five friends and felt a feeling of renewal blossom in his chest.
When the day was done, the men descended the stairs. The one turned back halfway down the steps.
"Great god. I have been here many days and hope to come many more. I will not seek anything from you nor ask anything from you again. But I will ask your name, if you will give it.
The god sighed, "my name has been lost. Centuries have passed. This wonderful temple you have restored was beginning to crumble. And my name with it. It has not been spoken in a very long time and I dare say I cannot remember who I am. I was once the god of unbreakable bonds. Of everlasting friendships. What name came with that I cannot recall."
The man smiled at the god. "My mother and father had eight children. The believed certain characteristics were important to every individual and in their own way, named each of us as such. Long ago there was a man. He was selfless, lacking of greed. He was loyal and kind and respected nothing in return. It's said that when he died, the gods admired him so he became one. I was named after him. And his name was Arepo."
The god's eyes began to wet again.
"I will see you soon, great god," Arepo said.
Original prompt: @writing-prompt-s
Continuation: @ciiriianan