Pantheon. (3)
“Why are you doing this?”
The First Beast plopped down onto the dusty floor of the temple.
“If you come with me, you could live in a much better environment than this. So why stay here?”
The First Beast didn’t answer my question. It was only natural, since it couldn’t speak human language. Before, it had at least managed to convey its intentions vaguely through faith, but now, with its faith so diminished, even that was beyond it. The only thing I could faintly sense was… that it wanted to do something here.
I let out a small sigh and stroked the First Beast’s head. As I petted it, I infused a bit of faith. It wasn’t much to me anyway—no real loss. I didn’t hesitate to share. Transferring faith I’d received to another god was incredibly inefficient, though. Out of 10 units given, only about 2 would actually take hold. Unless you were like me, for whom faith meant nothing, no one would do it.
“Ruff…”
Still, the emergency measure seemed to work; the First Beast perked up a little. I’d been worried it didn’t even have the energy to wag its tail, so it was a relief to see some recovery.
“So, what were you planning to do here?”
“Woof! Woof woof!”
The First Beast barked like a puppy, trying to communicate something. But its intent didn’t come through clearly—just vague hints.
“Hmm… You want to leave something behind? Yourself?”
“Woof!”
It wanted to leave itself behind. In other words, it wanted to be remembered by others. It didn’t want to be forgotten.
But looking at the situation now… only a fraction of the beastkin still believed in the First Beast. At this rate, it’d be forgotten in no time.
So, what should I do? How could I help this weakened child?
Should I convince Arcadia’s humans to worship it? Spread rumors to gather faith? Or manipulate the king somehow?
Hmm. Back in the day, wars had been fought over this guy—it was that important. Now it was reduced to this pathetic state. So heartbreaking.
As I pondered, a small voice came from Nyx, clinging to my back.
“Um, that doggy’s a god too, right?”
“Yeah. Looks like this, but it’s actually a pretty ancient one. The First Beast that beastkin used to worship. It’s dwindled like this because other gods stole its faith.”
At my words, the First Beast’s tail drooped even lower. It looked hurt, but… facts are facts. A beast god that couldn’t even speak properly, unable to grant oracles or blessings, versus other gods who could do it on demand. Which one do you think would be more popular?
“Hmm… First Beast—is that its name? Doesn’t sound like a name…”
“It’s not a name. Just a title, a way to refer to it.”
Come to think of it… it still didn’t have a proper name. I’d always called it the First Beast, and that sufficed. Everyone knew what it meant.
“So, what’s its name, then?”
“It doesn’t have one.”
No need to name it when “First Beast” got the point across.
“Then… couldn’t you give it a name now?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Like how you named me… I think it’d be nice to give that doggy a name too.”
Doggy? This was a god revered by an entire race, even if it had fallen far.
Well, giving it a name wasn’t a bad idea… Ah, right. If I named it and made that name endure, wouldn’t that fulfill what it wanted—to leave itself behind?
“What do you think?”
“Woof?”
But the First Beast seemed clueless. No… even for a beast god, how could it be this simple-minded? Back when we traveled together, it wasn’t this empty-headed… Something must be hindering its intellect.
Ah. Right. It was a beast god. Beasts don’t have high intelligence—that perception must have spread among beastkin and other demi-humans, so they assumed the same for its god. That influence turned it into this dimwit.
Hmm. Gods shape themselves to match their believers’ perceptions. What a hassle.
Well, I’m a god too! But I don’t change fundamentally; I just get mentally nudged a bit.
Anyway.
“If you accept my offer… I’ll give you a new name and etch it into human history. As long as history doesn’t bury it, your existence will endure. How’s that?”
“Woof!”
The First Beast barked loudly without a second thought. It probably just figured I’d help it out. Which I was, sure.
“Alright, let’s start with a name, then.”
Hmm. What to name it? Let’s see. Beast. Doggy. Wolf. Fenrir? Nah, too ominous. Cerberus? That belongs in the underworld. Hati and Skoll are ominous too. Garmr’s the same. Varg? Eh… meh.
No, move away from wolves… Ah. Wait. Wolves—one more. Heavenly Wolf Star. Sirius. The alpha star of Canis Major, part of the Winter Triangle.
Sirius. Hmm. Sounds good. Perfect for a city name too. Betelgeuse and Procyon from the other points are already big city names.
So, name this one Sirius, and rename Arcadia’s capital… Wait, what’s the capital called? They just call the whole place Arcadia, so the capital’s name doesn’t stick.
Eh, no need to remember it. I can slip into the sleeping king’s dreams and persuade him lightly. I’d rather cut back on oracles anyway.
Something like: “I’m taking the First Beast as the gatekeeper of the gods’ world. Honor it by naming it Sirius. Thus, rename this city it’s guarded—the city of beastkin—to Sirius.”
Honestly, Arcadia owes this guy big time. It united beastkin tribes as their racial god, sparked wars when neighbors coveted it, smashed monsters to revive the nation. It’s the number one contributor to modern Arcadia!
“I bestow upon you the name Sirius. It means the wolf of the night sky.”
“Woof!”
The First Beast—no, Sirius—wagged its tail furiously, overjoyed at my words.
Hmm. If I’d known it’d be this happy, I should’ve named it sooner.
Watching Sirius wag like crazy, I suddenly felt annoyed at the humans. After all it did for them, now they sidelined it because other gods were trendier?
Fine. Time to pile on the titles and empower Sirius. Let them realize how amazing it was and regret ditching it!
And so, the beastkin’s ancestral god, the First Beast, headed with me to the Pantheon’s entrance.
“And so, the god called the First Beast, whose faith had begun to wane, received the name Sirius and became the guardian of the Pantheon.”
“Good. That’s enough. I assume you all know about the name Sirius without me explaining.”
The teacher at the front of the classroom scribbled quickly on the blackboard with chalk.
“The millennial ancient city. The city of gods’ glory. It was the center of the human world before the cataclysms, and despite disasters, the Demon King, and countless wars, it endured—hosting the academy where you study today.”
The teacher underlined the titles for Sirius on the board.
“Its history runs so deep that they say digging even a little in Sirius’s soil yields artifacts. Plenty of adventurers come hunting them.”
“I heard there’s a massive ruin deep under this very academy!”
“Mm. The academy is protected by that ruin’s power. Though much is damaged, it creates a barrier that repels malice… Perhaps it’s the old temple of the Pantheon’s guardian god Sirius—from when it was the ancestor god of beastkin? That’s the theory.”
As the teacher said, a faint milky barrier draped the sky outside the window. As long as it held, no external enemies could enter the academy.
“The Pantheon’s guardian god, presumed master of that temple—the beast god Sirius—is still fulfilling its role at the entrance.”
“I heard it lets no one pass without permission. Not even the Demon King could enter the Pantheon.”
The teacher nodded slightly, then wrote another name on the board.
“In terms of guarding gates… it’s said to be on par with the underworld’s giant god, Talos. The black rock titan. Underworld guardian. Talos.”