Ikenia was a goddess and a young one at that. Only six hundred years ago she came into being when a farm boy decided that a rock formation ‘looked a bit like a big lady’ and decided that was enough of a divine sign. The specifics of how her small religion spread and developed beyond that are lost to history and are somewhat fuzzy even to her.

She was beautiful in that way that goddesses are, but not stellar amongst them as far as most of her peers were concerned. Her visage was simple and prone to variation depending on the person carving her figure in the mortal world but it was largely agreed on that she had green eyes and olive skin peppered ever so lightly with freckles as the humans of the western continent; though some scattered statues depicted her with bestial features such as horns, reminiscent of the folk in the nation of Anima though distinctly lacking in fur.

Little of this mattered as at the moment, as she was a goddess of nothing, a doomed goddess. Her followers were more than 300 years dead and her presence in the mortal realm faded with each and every passing year as nature or malicious action by her competitors destroyed her temples, her graven images, and even the written record of her existence.

With no one to worship her or even remember her, Ikenia had no circles of power; no command over the physical or the intangible.

You see, gods require worship and some will jealously guard their worshipers' faith from others when they don't join together to form pantheons, and she had the bad luck of developing in a rural farming village on the creeping edge of Usvalen’s territory. The god of rulership, purity, and order does not take kindly to even the smallest of threats or disruptions to his divine empire.

Usvalen drove his people into exclusive religious fervor, not necessarily against other well established deities that hold the bulk of their followers far and away from his domain, but specifically against new gods. Any freshly imagined gods were reported as ‘demons spreading lies’ (a lie conveniently supported by the sometimes non human shapes theses new gods might take) and so it was that her sect was stomped out for little reason other than existing.

Usvalen is however an outlier, most gods care little of the nations of mortals and more often than not allow them to develop their own doctrine freely so long as worship continues to sustain them.

The final one of her followers was slain three hundred and forty five years ago and everything since then has been a slow descent into unimportance; a mere footnote in the pages of history.

Now, Ikenia never felt the need to participate in the divine court even with so many polite invitations. She just couldn’t bear seeing Usvalen’s smug face from his high throne in the meeting hall. Somehow, their eyes always met and his self satisfied sneer was never noticed or at least never commented upon by the others.

She spent her time amongst the few souls who’d chosen to spend their afterlives in her own small realm rather than reincarnate. It was simple as far as heavens go, if such a thing could be said, but she did her best to offer a peaceful rest for the few souls who saw fit to stay with her.

Her realm was an arboreal paradise forever comfortably in the most perfect days of spring as far as climate was concerned, only with all the best parts of other seasons: game abounded for hunting, the streams were full to bursting with fat salmon, every fruit and wild forage was eternally in season. It should be noted however, it is not so much that she is a goddess close to nature so much as her having little else to identify with.

These were the some of the cheapest upgrades to maintain. So yes, it was a happy if someone simple place and she did her best to not fall to melancholy, but often failed. 

More clearly in the present moment she was laying sprawled across her wicker throne in the glade that marked the hear of her little paradise, stewing over her frustration at not being able to do more for her departed worshipers and their impending eviction back into the cycles of reincarnation when she fades from memory. Every passing year she felt diminished as even her enemies forgot her. Another book burning or a few voracious paper beetles and she’d just disappear...

A voice interrupted her self flagellative meditation.

“Lady Ikenia, a messenger would like to-”

“Nope, tell em to go fuck themselves.” she didn’t even make eye contact and responded crudely without having to hear the entire statement, forgetting herself for a moment

“My Lady...” Uleg, her faithful servant had a pained look, she knew he didn't take offense, so much as worry; he was one of the few of her faithful privy to the uncomfortable truth of her slow demise and it obviously weighed on him.

She still regretted telling him the truth, but she trusted him too much; after all he was the very first mortal who saw her figure in the stone… The man was a gift, but their relationship was ludicrous; even after her explanation, he still thought she had made him when the exact opposite was true.

In the present, his eyes showed a concern well beyond what his youthful countenance had any right containing, of course he’d existed for longer than she had having a total age living and dead of around 657 years, but his sun kissed face and flaxen hair were restored by the [Eternal Youth] she’d bestowed upon her realm.

She couldn’t bear to see him frail and elderly here of all places and he deserved at least this much even if it nearly broke the bank to maintain, and now... now his age still showed through his eyes.

He’d come every day to talk to her even before she knew what talking was and his was the first face she’d ever seen, eyes bright as the sky and full of hope. She wanted those eyes to look on her the same way again at least once before she disappeared.

“I’m sorry Uleg… please inform them that..." She struggled for the correct politically neutral term for 'fuck off' and settled on "I will be remaining within my realm to better serve my flock, I feel my seat would be better used by a god or goddess with more present concerns in the mortal realm.”

Uleg paused for a moment before giving a nod, this was the 987th time she had opted not to attend the thrice yearly divine court, some part of him wondered why they kept sending a messenger each time.

“Yes my lady.”

She watched him leave and did her best not to break down until his steps passed the edge of her grove, out hearing range the wider heaven beyond those trees... and then he was gone and she was left alone once more with her thoughts.

The silent hours passed again, unbroken by any interruption more pressing than the call of a bird; before she felt something unexpected

Ikenia thought it was her imagination at first, but there it was. Quiet as a whisper and barely carried to her ear on a thread of faith as thin and fragile as spider's silk.

A prayer.

“Well… uh, I used to be somewhere between agnostic and atheist but given… new evidence...”

“Hey, so… you mind if I sleep here? Tell you what, don’t smite me and keep any goblins or whatever from stabbing me in my sleep and I’ll try and give the place a little dusting. Deal?”

A very informal prayer, but one that held a surety unusual for the thin faith that lead it to her. For a second, she was too stunned to do anything until she parsed the words properly.

“Yes! Yes, you can slee- you’re going to clean the temple!?”

Someone had found one of her dusty and abandoned temples and prayed to a shattered icon and now they were asking for a night of sanctuary and even offering to clean the place! She had thought the fire of her hope long extinguished but now, that single whispering voice lit it into a towering inferno.

Her excitement was palpable as she gazed into the crystal clear scrying before and extended her senses outwards to get a picture of this lone traveler. A woman, long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail wearing scorched leather armor. She mulled over the message to read the less overt and unspoken elements of it; along with that prayer came images of conflict: a chase, goblins, a fire. She was out of practice in this particular area, so nothing more than flashes came through; but the woman bedding down in her temple had gone through a difficult day.

Ikenia went to curse herself for not keeping in practice, but thinking through it few chances ever came by to stretch her divine muscles so she instead put on her most beatific and pure voice and called down to the mortal.

"Lo, you may rest safely within the wa-" She began, before almost immediately being cut off.

“Of course, No answer but… no lightning either, so maybe we have an agreement?”

Ikenia felt so foolish for making that mistake, Of course she couldn’t hear! She'd lost much of her standing and even scrying the mortal world outside of her few remaining sanctified holy grounds was a serious exertion. This woman wasn’t an [Oracle] or even a proper worshiper... But that didn’t matter to her, a living human had seen her image, shattered as it was, and believed.

Now… now she had a chance.

“Okay, I can do this… I don't have enough for a blessing but if she keeps coming back I can build up some PP." Her mind clattered busily along weaving a plan like a loom in the hands of an expert [Seamstress]

"I’ll protect her and maybe she can tell someone and…” and then she hit a snag.

Doubts filled her mind.

And then what? She’d be killed by a worshiper of that bastard Usvalen? She’d live her days proselytizing for a goddess no one had worshiped for centuries? Why even try?

In the face of all of that, she considered giving up... but something stopped her. She remembered the way Uleg looked at her in her young days, eyes full of wonder and such a pure faith; It made her feel like she could do anything.

No. She wouldn't give up, she couldn't give up.

“I… I will protect her. Even if it comes to nothing.”

The answer to her doubts came, but she was too afraid to speak it out loud... it made her feel silly

"Because it’s right, because I won’t horde my blessings like the others even if I am dying. Because I won’t be like Usvalen."

And so the words went unspoken but even words unspoken have power, especially when someone is listening.

Ikenia's jaw dropped, she wasn’t supposed to be a high enough level for [Divine Protections] and here was the prompt. Her voice nearly failed her, but she steeled herself and spoke.

“Yes, yes do it!”

The menu chirped it’s delightful little sound confirming her decision and the rushing power made her dizzy in her seat. She was more now in a way difficult to describe, though the window certainly did a good job.

Ikenia gripped the arms of her throne, her eyes suddenly full of fire. She could hardly believe it, but she’d leveled with no worshipers and learned six [Skills] four of which were Legendary and two at [Ultra Rare] rank.

Reading over them, the [Inherent Circles] caught her attention; if they did what she thought, they were powerful. 

Traditionally gods were defined by their worshipers and only ruled over what their worshipers believed they did… but there she had four circles of power obtained by her own will. The importance of this moment struck her... and then the humor followed soon after.

Ikenia laughed as she considered the ludicrous state of affairs, a goddess believing in a human without any evidence. That was a silly bit of role reversal.

Now she had one human who knew about her, if not her name, out in the world to spread word of her existence; it just might work, after all one human was enough to make her so one could be enough to remake her.

It might even be easier this time around.