8th of Prols,

  Perhaps these types of formalities are considered a luxury to most; I admit not many experience this much admiration and dedication, however I find these events pestering. Nothing I have done is worthy of the gratitude I’ve been given. As I sit and watch a hall full of lively townsfolk all celebrating my arrival all I can do is hold in a sigh. The gesture is grand and I don’t want to appear unappreciative to my hosts, but after the hundredth time of your mere arrival being turned into an illustrious fest it becomes more a nuisance than anything. I found my eyes following a couple nearly painted in colorful dresses. They danced gracefully together as if they'd practiced for this very moment. Like it was built into their very instincts.

  I will admit, I am intrigued by this town's culture. The bright extravagant clothing despite being a northern tribe is quite curious. Did they import the dyes or have they found a species of plant that can survive the consistent winter. The paintings on the wooden hall walls were of people who wore the same vibrant clothing and despite the aging the colors were still brilliant. They seem to value tradition quite a lot. The village is more diverse than the other northern villages I’ve visited as well, I can distinguish influence from cultures all over the continent. Spice with flavor profiles from the mid-south despite how hard it would be to transport them through all the terrain? This must be part of the display of how much they appreciate me being here.

  I smile a bit at that, it’s not often followers go past the more flamboyant show of their commitment to welcoming me. Despite being a rather insignificant gesture they chose to add it regardless of if I’d notice or not. It may be a way of apologizing for their lack of preparation. It’s customary for the townsfolk to prepare a hostel and any necessities for a god, but surprisingly the village appeared unaware of my visit here until the last moment. Looking around the reception, it doesn’t look as if there’s any person with the mark of a god. Did something happen to their priest before my arrival?

  While my search for a priest was in vain something did catch my eye, or well, someone. Amongst all of the lively dancing and cheering is a woman who seemed completely uninterested in the celebration. Not only is she uninterested in the commotion around her, she seemed worried about something. Despite the appearance that she didn’t want to be here she is dressed neatly and adorned in just as much traditional attire as the rest of the village. Her clothes were just as bright as the rest of the decorations, they looked remarkable against her dark skin and hair. Her hair was done into dozens of long, small braids, a style one would typically see in the southern continents. I admittedly became deeply curious about her. What could make her so concerned while the rest of her peers and family were partying away without a care?

  The movement of the chief caught my eye as he walked towards me, pulling me out of my thoughts. The chief is a friendly, intuitive man, the perfect leader for a village as spirited as this. “My lord, may I offer you dessert? It was a recipe created by our ancestors and passed down generations, each perfecting their own technique. This specific sort has been created by one of our most promising youth.” He presented me with a slice of what looks like cake with a few keen differences. It looked dense and had some sort of red jam in it. It was topped with crumbs, sliced nuts, and bright red berries, presumably the same as what the interior jam was made of.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  It looks delicious. Whoever made it spent time perfecting it, even the placement of the toppings were made to be perfect. I’m astonished at how far mortals will go to please a god. I expressed my gratitude and took a bite. It was marvelous, that may be an understatement. The texture was moist but not as dense as I initially predicted. The berries had a sweet but bitter taste to them, and the nuts were just enough flavor to compliment the sweetness. However, the most intriguing part of the dessert was the spice. I have never had such a unique taste before.

  Sensing my curiosity the chief explained the treat further. “It’s a lingonberry cardamom cake.” I had never heard of either of those ingredients, I didn’t care to admit this directly. “It’s like nothing I’ve tasted before.” He let out a short laugh at my comment. “You must’ve never visited any of our neighboring tribes then. Can’t say many gods take the time to come visit us. Far too cold for anyone, mortal or not, to bother coming for leisure.” I can understand why someone wouldn’t want to come so far up north for such a small village, but the silence is refreshing. At least when the entire village isn’t in celebration. “I can’t say I have. I’m not the most prominent of gods. Hardly any prayers get sent to me.” I am not here for leisure, I’m here because some human called on me and Attrix insisted I seek out the cause. I wonder why she was so persistent that I fulfill this village's prayers.

  Attrix has always been the closest a god can call a ‘friend’ to me. Despite this I don’t know much about her. In fact, I’m not quite sure where she gets her information about me from. It’s not common for a god to talk about themselves to another god, and I am not about to be the one to break that habit. Her mysterious ways weren’t troublesome enough to ruin our alliance over, so long as she remains respectful. Besides.. Other than her I only have Khaddris. He’s not the most reliable of acquaintances.

  Once again I was pulled out of my thoughts by movement in my peripheral, this time a lively looking older lady running past. I noticed the chief, I believe he said his name was Einar, talking to a group of his peers. Eventually he caught my gaze and came over to talk to me. “We’ve prepared a room for you.. It’s not much, but it has the heart of the village in it. It is the best we could put together in such short notice, I hope it’s to your liking.” His tone was so genuine it made me relax, but the mention of the short notice brought me back to the thought of who exactly in the village called for me. “There are still a few more hours of sunlight as we’re still early into Prols, if you’d like, I could set up a guide for you, or if you’d prefer to wander around on your own..” he started to trail off a little nervously.

  “I think I’ll be fine on my own for now, I would love to wander around and get a feel for the village.” I need time to sort through my thoughts, I can’t keep losing my attention when something else interests me. “Very well! When you’re ready to view your hostel please ask anyone in the village for directions to the inn. Anyone around will be able to show you the way. I’m afraid I have cleaning duties here as it wouldn’t be right for me to leave that to the rest of the folks.” I give a simple nod and thank you in return, as he walks off I take a subtle note of his words. Was he really going to be cleaning up after such an event? A man of such high status assigning himself to a detail is.. Honorable in a way.