Jophyr awoke to the scent of freshly baked bread, the sound of hushed prayers, and the distinct feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.
The night before had been a blur of increasingly bizarre interactions. What started as a few overly enthusiastic villagers offering gifts quickly escalated into an impromptu festival of devotion. Candles had been lit, songs had been composed (one particularly haunting ballad about the "Glowing One's Divine Footsteps"), and at some point, an elderly woman insisted on washing Jophyr's feet while Snik Snak was force-fed offerings of cheese and fresh fruit. The highlight had been when a group of farmers, entirely umprompted, organized a midnight procession carrying a goat on a litter, declaring it sacred in Jophyr's honor.
The Empyrean had attempted to correct the villagers, but his discomfort was interpreted as divine humility. By the time Jophyr and Snik Snak had managed to escape to their lodgings for the night, a village elder was carving their likenesses onto a large wooden tablet.
Jophyr sat up and stretched, his bones popping and shifting. Seeing Snik Snak had already woken, the large man joined the kobold by the window. The little lizard wizard wore an expression of mild horror. Jophyr looked out the window.
The quiet, unassuming village was no more. In its place was a devotional wonderland.
Shrines – actual shrines – had sprung up overnight like particularly zealous mushrooms. Everywhere the Empyrean looked, his face had been immortalized in crude carvings, paintings, and, in one case, a thatched-roof bread sculpture. The most devout villagers had strung garlands of wildflowers around their doorways.
"They are certainly enthusiastic," Jophyr said.
"Enthusiastic? They're insane," Snik Snak retorted. He stepped back from the window. "You need to fix this. C'mon."
The pair made their way along the packed dirt paths, seeking the village leader. Devout villagers bowed reverently as they passed, exclaiming in joy when Jophyr cautiously waved a greeting.
A man sprinted past, holding a charcoal sketch of Snik Snak's face, shouting, "The Prophet has spoken! Our lives must change accordingly!"
"Perhaps they are not merely enthusiastic," Jophyr mused. "Perhaps…a mistake has been made."
Snik Snak grabbed a makeshift wooden plaque and squinted at the inscription. "This one says, 'A nap after a good meal is the path to wisdom.'"
"Well, that's not so bad, Small One."
The kobold turned the plaque around. "It also says, 'Do not question a prophet before breakfast, lest ye be smote with a ladle.'"
"We should correct this." Jophyr rubbed his temples.
"And fast."
Their attempt went spectacularly poorly.
"My friends," Jophyr addressed the villagers, drawing upon his most reassuring tone. "There has been a misunderstanding. We are not divine beings. We are but humble travelers-"
"He calls us friends!" a woman gasped, clutching her heart. "Even in our unworthiness, he welcomes us!"
"Such humility," someone whispered in reverence. "A true mark of divinity."
"No. No, I mean-"
"Only a true prophet would deny being a prophet!" a man declared, pointing skyward as though he had just cracked the code of the universe.
Jophyr let out a long, frustrated breath through his nose. He steepled his fingers and closed his eyes. "All right. Let's try this again."
The villagers fell silent, waiting for their prophet's next declaration.
Opening his eyes, Jophyr looked over everyone gathered. "We appreciate your generosity," he said. "We do not, however, require offerings or your worship-"
"He speaks in riddles!" an excited villager cried out. "A test of our devotion!"
Snik Snak's tail twitched in irritation and he rubbed his temples. "For the last time, we are not prophets!"
"The Herald! He chastises us with his great and terrible wit! Truly, they walk among us to humble our ways," a villager in the back said.
Turning to Snik Snak with pleading eyes, the Empyrean was at a road block. "I am losing control of this situation."
The kobold snorted. "I don't think you were ever in control, Glowstick. We have a literal cult now. And, oh look, they're building you a temple." He jabbed a claw in the direction of a group of villagers laying down stones. The foundation of building meant to be a place of worship.
"I did not ask for this!" Jophyr protested in horror.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't care what you asked for."
Helpless and still at a loss, Jophyr watched as the villagers continued in their adulation. They started making life-altering decisions based on things that he had said offhandedly the day before, much to Jophyr's ever rising horror.
One villager put his farm up for sale to walk the "glowing path", claiming the journey would lead him to "the Enlightened Fields of Everlight," which, according to Snik Snak, was probably just the next village over with slightly less mildew.
Another villager renamed all his goats to variations of "Jophyr" – Jophyr Prime, Jophyr Junior, Jophyrina, and The Glowing Hoofed One – resulting in immense confusion, especially during feeding time.
A new effigy was built by a group of villagers, made of corn husks and fervent optimism. A hopeful follower rushed over from the temple foundation, dodging the corn husk monstrosity.
"O Chosen Ones, should we lay the foundation eastward toward the rising sun or westward toward the shadow of your greatness?" he asked, falling to his knees.
Jophyr coughed, a sound usually reserved for someone spotting a charging bull or an approaching relative with a collection of vacation slides. Before he could respond, however, a small knot of villagers began murmuring. They were interpreting the simple hesitation as a cosmic debate between east and west. One woman held a chicken to her chest, ignoring its squawks, and said,
"It is the silence of divine deliberation."
Snik Snak looked up at the Empyrean, arms crossed, tail flicking. "Go on. Pick a direction. Let's see how badly this spirals."
Another villager from the temple approached and pulled out a piece of parchment. The top of it was titled "The Diagram of Illumined Architecture". Conferring with the first villager, they began outlining potential sun-aligned doorways based on Jophyr's future decree.
Sensing things were escalating beyond her pay grade, the chicken squawked louder and flapped her wings, attempting to wriggle free.
After staring at the sky for a long time, Jophyr exhaled. The heavens, as usual, offered no assistance. "Small One…we need a way out of this. Immediately."