What Is a God?

A hundred years had passed since I fell into this strange world in the body of a bird.

Anne was the first human I had ever met face to face.

I was glad. So glad that I let myself get carried away.

Her devotion to her younger brother was so touching that I even gave her a gift.

That was a mistake. An unmistakable, indefensible mistake.

Wherever you go, there will always be someone who covets another person's good fortune.

I should have understood that the blessing I bestowed could just as easily become a curse.

I must not forget. This is not the world I once knew.

Here, when things go sour, people hurt other people and take what they want.

Just yesterday I had been stunned by the bandits who stormed into the village. They were cruel. They were vile. They wore human faces, but they were not human.

If they had merely threatened the villagers and taken their belongings, I might have let it pass. If they had hurt people without killing them, I would have settled for a light scolding.

I may be a bird now — a great red bird — but I, too, was once like them. I was human. Taking the life of one's own kind still sits ill with me.

But the bandits crossed a line. I could not stand by.

When they toyed with the captured villagers, hurting them for sport. When they laughed as they set fire to homes built with sweat and labor. When they left Anne — the first person who had ever spoken with me — to die.

I made my decision. I would no longer watch from the sidelines.

I may not belong to this world. I may not know what my actions will set in motion. But I could not stand there and watch more lives gutter out below.

The bandits were swallowed by my flames, every last one of them. I left not even ash. I burned them clean. I wanted none of that filth to remain anywhere.

As if they understood my heart, the flames roared with a terrible fury.

...I didn't feel particularly good about it.

I had expected satisfaction. Instead, I felt thoroughly unclean. They were wicked men, yes — but the weight of a life is the same, in the end. The thought that I had taken those lives with my own hands — no, with a beat of my wings — sent a wave of nausea through me.

At times like this, I was grateful to be a bird. If I had still been human, I would have vomited on the spot.

A strange presence made me lift my head. Something stirred at the mouth of my nest, where nothing had been a moment before.

It was not human. People did not give off a presence like this. Nor was it a beast or a monster. This was a being of an entirely different order.

I rose from my place and half-spread my wings. I hoped it had come with good intentions. I knew it might not have.

A voice reached me from beyond the wall. It sounded like a child's, and like a woman's.

One thing was certain. This visitor had a rough idea of what I was. Those words were proof enough.

At last my nest received its first guest. The figure wore a human shape, and yet was anything but human. Aside from the blue hair and the blue eyes, almost nothing of it could be seen. If a person could wrap themselves in clouds, they would look something like this.

"I am called Blue Sky."

Blue Sky. The name suited the visitor perfectly — the hair, the eyes, the shroud of cloud.

"I preside over the heavens of this world. There is nothing I cannot see, and nothing I cannot hear."

"And not long ago, I discovered that you had interfered in the affairs of the mortal realm."

Interfered. The word called up everything that had happened not long before. Meeting Anne. Learning her circumstances. Giving her a feather. And then, when the bandits' cruelty had all but snuffed her out, kindling that dying flame back to life.

I had been in this world for well over a hundred years. In all that long stretch of time, no guest like this had ever come. So the reason for the visit was obvious. It had to do with Anne.

"Life and death are appointed as they ought to be. No one may overturn them."

So bringing Anne back was the problem, after all. I would concede that it had been a foolish thing to do. I did not regret it. That child should not have died. She had to go on living.

I looked at Blue Sky and said nothing. The visitor was right. I was a being who ought not exist here — an Outer God, an uninvited guest from beyond. And in that capacity I had broken the world's rules and interfered, not for any grand reason, but simply because my heart had moved me. Whatever responsibility Blue Sky meant to lay at my feet, I would accept it.

I nodded without protest. I had been in the wrong. That much was beyond denial.

"How readily you concede. That is fortunate."

As if the conversation were finished, Blue Sky turned away.

"Ah. And that human you so recklessly revived will walk the path originally appointed to them."

The path originally appointed to them?

"Purple Death will come to take the child."

"Blue Sky. The appointed order has been twisted."

"What are you talking about?"

"A soul that should have come to Death's side has turned back of its own accord."

At first it had sounded like nonsense. But Purple Death was not a being who told lies. Sensing that something was wrong, Blue Sky had sought out the cause.

"An Outer God."

An uninvited guest had entered this world without even the native gods knowing. How long ago? And if the stranger had come, why remain so quiet? Questions crowded in, but Blue Sky decided to tend to the duty at hand first.

"I discovered that you had interfered in the affairs of the mortal realm."

There was no stopping a soul from going to Purple Death's side. Nor should there be. That was the natural order of the world.

Fortunately, the Outer God had conceded the fault without a fight. Blue Sky had worried the stranger might take offense and turn hostile. To Blue Sky's eyes, that crimson being was anything but negligible.

"How readily you concede. That is fortunate."

"That human you so recklessly revived will walk the path originally appointed to them."

"Purple Death will come to take the child."

Blue Sky could only hope the stranger would remain quiet from now on. A fight with a divine being was hard on anyone. With those words left behind, Blue Sky made to return to the heavens above.

Flames spilled from the Outer God's wings, dripping and catching as they fell. These were not the ordinary fires that rose from the mortal realm. This was a heat that forced even Blue Sky — even a god of this world — to give ground.

Blue Sky's face tightened. A moment ago the stranger had admitted fault, and now the words were being taken back. Did this being have any idea how grave a sin it was to seize a soul that belonged at Death's side? Even Blue Sky, a fellow god, had never once done such a thing.

"That is enough, Outer God. You are not of this world. I will tolerate no further interference."

Out of a clear sky, lightning crashed down without warning. The nest, set deep in the heart of a mountain of stone, began to collapse. That, Blue Sky thought, should be enough to make even an Outer God stand down. A warning of this magnitude would surely convince the stranger that a fight was not worth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠having.

But—

The Outer God had not been harmed in the slightest. If anything, the flames were swelling larger still.

"You would go that far... kh—?!"

The sky, which had been a proud and brilliant blue, began to flush a deep and spreading red. Flame ate the clouds. An irresistible heat came after. The power was immense. Blue Sky clenched both teeth. Never before had the sky god felt authority like this. It surpassed even Purple Death.

Blue Sky had taken the stranger for leftover dregs that had fled here — scraps, at best. The crimson being was far stronger than expected.

"Nngh...!"

It was hot. It hurt. It was agony. That fact alone was enough to drive Blue Sky toward madness. That a god should feel sensation this keenly — that even a god could not endure this heat and this pain. First came bewilderment. Then a thin, spreading fear. At this rate there would be nothing left. Not even a shape. Divine pride held the sky god in place a moment longer, but it was no longer enough.

"S-stop! Stop this!"

At Blue Sky's cry, the flames vanished as if they had never been. Beyond a sky still stained with red, the Outer God spoke.

Something in those words surged up in Blue Sky's chest, and the sky god cried out.

"Outer God! Even if you came from another world — are you not a god as well?"

"How can a god — how can a god interfere in the affairs of the mortal realm?"

It was a thing that must not be. How could a god do this?

"And why should I not intervene?"

The Outer God — that crimson being — turned the question back on Blue Sky.

"You call that a question? A god must be impartial!"

No. A god is not a being that must be impartial.

What? Blue Sky stared at the Outer God as if the words were absurd. A god must not be impartial? What kind of nonsense was that?

"Preposterous..."

If a god is impartial, why do people seek one out? Why do they offer prayers? Does a god not exist to watch over those who cry out that god's name? If a god neither protects them nor saves them, then why does a god exist at all?

It was sophistry. Sophistry — and yet Blue Sky could not answer at once. Of course not. Blue Sky had always believed a god must not interfere, and so had turned away even from those who came seeking.

"To me, a god is not some neutral party who merely stands and watches."

"A god punishes evil and protects good. A god purifies what is filthy and cherishes what is pure."

"That is what a god is."

"So if you touch Anne, who lives by my will — I, whom you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠call an Outer God, will not stand idle."

The flames that had gone still surged up again, dancing and unfurling. There was no withstanding them. They were too hot, too fierce. Above all they were too bright to look at directly.

"I—I understand! I understand, so stop this now!"

At Blue Sky's frantic cry, the Outer God drew back. It seemed there had never been any real intent to do harm. Blue Sky let out a quiet breath of relief at that.

Far off, a being of lofty fire gathered the flames around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠itself. The form was other than human, and all the more beautiful for it. This was not someone Blue Sky could hope to handle. Why had a being of that magnitude drifted all the way here?

"Very well, Outer God. I will not interfere. But mark this well."

"The beings of the mortal realm cannot comprehend a great existence."

"And what they cannot comprehend, they are quick to recast as an object of fear."

The Outer God would not know why the gods had withdrawn from the world below. It was not for lack of affection. It was that the mortals themselves had broken that affection.

"I would rather you came to no harm."

It was not a taunt. It was sincere. Blue Sky truly hoped for that. For on the day that great being's heart was wounded and twisted out of true, the mortal realm would hold nothing but ash.