I must write the following story. It was the last wish of the one involved, and they deserve at least my meager efforts.
It began like a dream almost. I stepped out of a line of trees to an expansive green valley, with a sparkling river flowing through it. It didnt feel real, and in some ways it wasnt. After standing in awe for a few moments, i noticed, sitting off to the side, was a simple but finely made wooden table with 2 matching chairs, and topped with a teapot and cups of similar quality. Sitting in one of the chairs was a figure. I knew not at the time what gender they may have been, but i would learn it wasnt relevant either way.
"Sit, please" they said kindly. It felt natural and easy to obey. They served the tea in comfortable silence while i continue admiring the landscape. It seemed quaint, and maybe smaller than i remembered from moments before. I took the tea and tasted gently. It was fine tea, sweetened to taste, though i never said and they never asked.
"Do you like it? I fear it may be my last work" they said. I looked at them questioningly. They were approximately humanoid. No major distinguishing features stuck in my head however. Their face seemed aged, but i dont remember any wrinkles.
"I should explain clearly," they said, "I am a dying god." The words felt like they had the weight of years, or eons behind it. My mind flashed with visions, a cacophony to a simpler creature. I Understood the words and their truth in an instant.
"I see," I said. Poor choice of words in retrospect. I looked out at the valley to thing. The far end seemed closer. the river flowed into nothing.
"These are my last moments. I will be replaced with something that i wont know. I wanted someone to know I existed," they further explained. I looked back at them. They seemed to sigh, without an features to do so. I assume, in retrospect, to match their actions to things a mortal might understand better.
"Why me?" I asked. Perhaps unwisely to ask a god to explain themselves, especially in their final minute, but in the moment, i was curious.
"You are a writer, i believe. You will write this down, and let people know i was," they said plainly. The far end of the valley drew closer, and the tea was no longer in my hand, but i hardly noticed at the time. They stood up and stepped away from the space where the table once was.
"You are the type to do this for me, as my last wish," they said and i watched them walk away, the amorphous shape of a being, into the concept of trees that remained. Then they were gone. i could no longer feel their presence. The valley shrunk to the patch of grass i stood on, everything else a void, neither light nor dark, just non-existence. I stepped forward into it, and into my bedroom.
Nothing seemed to have changed without the god. I looked towards my writing desk, holding an old partial manuscript i meant to revisit but hadnt yet. It seemed unimportant now anyway. I shoved it to the side, took my pen and began.








