"Yeah, there's a couple ways to make new gods or help them along. I don't think we're planning on it, it seems like things are complicated enough already, but we could."

"The already-around gods have to do it?"

"That, yeah. Gods'll start on their own too but it takes a long time and they start out really small. Like a couple centuries before they're big enough to talk to anybody."

"Sounds lonely."

"They're not, like, person-ey exactly, before that. You can sort of tell when they're around and watching stuff - or, we can, you can't - but they're just watching, not really thinking very much. Their first couple favored souls usually help them sort themselves out and figure out how to do stuff. That's like clerics but not exactly, you have to learn how to do clerics but favoring is like a reflex."

"Huh."

"Yeah. If someone has a weird dream and wakes up with magic all of a sudden, that's what that's about. It's pretty rare usually, though, clerics and druids are better in a bunch of ways."

"Good to know. Uh, d'you have a timeline on druids, or extinct marsupials, or both?"

"You can keep that one for now if you have a place for her. I'll see who I have who's looking for someplace to settle down and talk to Shining One about what I can do here and get back to you in - maybe a week or two? And once we've figured it out I'll set you up with a breeding population."

"Oh yeah, we have a place we kept the last one. See you then, thanks so much, and if nothing else when she's grown up she can have lots of very genetically diverse babies."

"As long as she's happy. Okay, see you then."

"Mm-hm!" To the thylacine: "What should we put on the poll about your name, huh? How about... Winona, and Sweet Potato... and..."

And so the night passes. Raafi comes back in the morning and gingerly checks his email.

He has been asked to vacate the European Union by end of day until there is a formal delegation establishing relations with whatever bodies he may be a member of.

Yeah, that could be more surprising. What else?

Someone wants to sell him malpractice insurance. The fairy interested in becoming a cleric wants to know if she has to adopt a party line to stay on track to magic powers. He is asked for comment on the discovery of a local afterlife.

Dogwood has filtered 616,809 emails.

He emails Dogwood:

Hey,

I got stuck in one of your afterlives overnight but I'm back for now. Is there anything I ought to do with the blog or the email if I'm going to leave your world for a while?

Take down the spell list, too, please.

He emails the aspiring cleric: There's not a specific party line and speaking privately about how she feels isn't going to cause any problems that feeling that way doesn't already; speaking publicly against him could cause some problems. Being upset about it is fine - he's upset about it himself - but a decision to act differently if it comes up for her is a no-go.

He's not going to comment on anything. He takes a closer look at the malpractice insurance email.

You might want to put up a going away message. I can do this for you if you tell me when you're going.

I mean myself I'd stay out of it if I could. What if somebody asks privately and then they quote me?

I'll do that. Thank you.

If you're operating in good faith you'll be fine, just make sure you're using your best judgement about it.

The concept of insurance is a new one, and he doesn't really have time to research it right now; he lets that sit, and has a look at his spell client list and any emails from them with an eye to shuffling things around to cover as many of the most important ones in the EU as possible today.

He has spell clients. He won't be able to finish everything in the EU today but he can get the most urgent stuff and ask other people to meet him elsewhere.

He does that. He goes to Bujumbura for lunch, and then finds a quiet park to sit in.

"Fharlanghn, sir? I'd like to talk, if you can hear me."

He appears, and sits on the bench next to him. "I can hear you."

"Thank you, sir. I..."

    "Mm?"

"I want to make sure you know that it hurts me, when I have to do things for you that hurt people."

    "I know. I don't think there's a way of dealing with things like that that doesn't hurt people. Is there anything I can do for you about it?"

"It'd help to be able to try to find a way."

    "It doesn't work. It just means that things are wrong for longer."

"I - you know that but we don't, sir. I believe you, but - you're asking me to read it from a book instead of going and seeing for myself. I'm the wrong kind of cleric for that."

    "Oh. Of course you are. I should know better than that, I'm sorry. How about... if I give you a year, like with settling down, would that help?"

"It would," he nods. "I'm not enough of a diplomat to know if it's enough but it'd be better, it would have been enough this time I think."

    "All right. And if you are making progress you can keep going, of course."

"Thank you, sir."

"They're kicking me out of Europe, you know."

    "I guess that's not surprising."

"They want a treaty, or something. They might think I'm part of a country."

    "That's strange."

"Well, they've never had a god of travel before, they don't know."

    "Well, tell them."

"I'm not sure that's going to work, sir."

    He sighs. "I'll find someone. You don't want to do it?"

"I really don't, sir. I've already been trapped here."

    "All right."

"I think I'll be around at all, there are some amazing things here, just - I need to be able to leave. I need-" he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing for a moment. "...sorry, sir."

    "No, no, it's fine. I know this has been hard."

"Yes sir."

    "Do you know where you're going next?"

"I like the other me, in Limbo, I might stay with him for a while. Or go to Greens for a bit. Probably both."

    "That sounds like a good plan. Do you need anything else?"

"I don't think so, sir. You should let me know when you find someone else to work on things here. And talk to Pelor about what he's doing."

    "I already am."

"Good. Thank you, sir."

They sit in silence for a little while, and then Fharlanghn goes.

A passerby blinks at the empty space but moves on without making a thing about it.

Raafi sits for a little while longer; it's a lovely autumn day. He thinks about posting to his blog, shutting it down; instead he emails the PR firm.

Hello,

This is Raafi, the cleric from the newly discovered other world. I assume you're aware of recent events; it was recommended to Pelor and me that we get some help in navigating things here, and you were suggested. Is that something you would be interested in doing?

In particular this will mostly involve working with Pelor's clerics and the god himself; I don't plan on spending much time in the solar system now that I'm able to come and go, but Pelor has asked me to help whoever he sends get started before I leave.

They tell him they'd be delighted to take on this clientele, here's their price structure.

He somewhat regrets not charging more for his spells, but only somewhat. He emails them back to ask what's next.