A loud, booming sound in the distance jostled Sano awake. It rattled the floorboards despite originating far from the building. Pots and pans clattered as the earth itself shook, causing dust to rain from the walls. Panicked cries came from outside.
Rousing quickly, the rest of the party scrambled to their feet and gathered their meager belongings, barreling through the hallways towards the open exit. The multitude of waitstaff were gone, each post abandoned. Even the receptionist girl was absent from her desk.
Beaten Dog ran on all fours. The monk was fleet-footed, barely touching the floor with each bound. When they burst through the door pins and needles sparked in Sano's vision as she was thrust into sudden brightness; she winced and shielded her eyes.
When her vision cleared, the town in chaos was a sight to behold. Rather than running haphazard through the streets like before, they were gathered side by side, hands clasped over their heads in prayer.
Indeed it seemed the ground had split before them— emerging from the cracked soil like a freshly hatched chick sat a monstrously large demon, thirty heads in height and forty wide. Its metallic orange carapace gleamed proudly in the sun, intricately decorated with swirls of coppergreen paint.
Jagged, polished tusks curled from its bottom lip. There was no question- this great creature could be no one but Divine Elephant.
"My good children," he said. His voice was surprisingly soft, smooth and lacquered. Yet his sheer volume caused it to boom. "Your offerings this year have been presented. I shall weigh them on my tongue."
Below him the crowd trembled in anticipation, quaking in fear.
Elephant turned to his left. Sano realized suddenly that there was a sizable pile of objects on the ground near his leg — sculptures, paintings, pieces of furniture and pottery adorned with ritual paper. Large as the pile was, it was so utterly dwarfed by Elephant's size that it seemed insignificant by comparison.
One by one, Elephant lifted each gift from the pile between his fingers. Holding them to eye level, he examined them with grace and discerning precision. He weighed them in his palm. He placed each briefly on his tongue, as earlier promised.
When he was done, he placed the gift back on the ground. With each gift given Elephant's approval, a demon in the crowd let out a sigh of relief. But as the many gifts were sifted and the pile of approval grew taller and taller, Elephant paused on one such present.
As Elephant's deliberation continued, the crowd held their collective breath and trembled in fear. He held the gift in his mouth for a long while, then tilted his head to the ground.
Curling his trunk, Elephant spat the gift to the floor like a chewed wad of tobacco - the crowd screamed in horror. Many fell to their knees already begging forgiveness, but Elephant silenced them with a raised hand.
"Who made this gift?"
The crowd fell into a sea of hushed whispers and murmuring before a voice - the voice of the young receptionist - spoke up. "I, sir."
"Step forth, child," Elephant hummed.
The receptionist-girl trotted forward slowly, her whole body quivering in fear.
"Young one..." Elephant's voice was calm, yet tremulous with deep sorrow. "What is your name?"
The girl bowed deeply. "Lspa, my Divine Lord."
"Lspa." Elephant shook his great head side to side slowly. "The quality of your gift is insufficient. Look upon it —" He gestured. "The work of the mahogany is slipshod... the nails are misaligned. This craftsmanship is... deeply regrettable."
The girl threw herself to the ground. "I'm sorry, Divinity! I was manning the bathhouse and we were busy with new customers, I had no time to refine it."
Elephant tilted his enormous head. "Yet you thought it more important than to uphold your most sacred of tasks? What of the oath you swore, and your clutch-mother swore before you, and her clutch-mother before hers - that I, Elephant, would be worshiped as a god, loved without end and lavished with idols, your figure of divinity for ever? For this, I interrupt my sacred task of bathing my armor in red-water till it shines to rival God. To delay that task is a grievous transgression."
The receptionist-girl shook where she stood. "I beg your forgiveness, Lord!"
"Your diligence is admirable, little Lspa..." Elephant shook his head. "...but your duties first and foremost are to me. An unconsidered gift is a slight I cannot ignore."
He placed his great hand before her, which dwarfed her twenty times over.
"Step forward."
Eyes filled with tears, the girl stepped onto his outstretched palm.
"It brings me no joy to bring you punishment," said Elephant as he lifted his palm to his mouth, "alas, it is the duty of a ruler."
"Wait!" cried a plaintive voice from the crowd.
Everyone turned to see the beautiful monk, arms outstretched towards the divine beast.
"Who are you?" rumbled the colossal beast.
"Yan Disa Aurata," said the monk, performing a deep and gracious bow. "I spread the word of the Order of Petals, who preach a song of beauty, of peace and tranquility. Need we escalate to violence? The poor girl was servant to us, after all, as newcomers to your esteemed town."
Elephant regarded the monk for a moment.
"You are visitors, then?"
"Yes," said the monk, still bowed, "me and my party."
"Interesting," replied Elephant. "Since you know not our customs, I shall explain them to you fine strangers— this town is mine, as are the people; I am their God and command their worship, for I provide them with food, and protect them from the winds and raging rains and desert storms. In exchange, they keep this town pristine, they offer gifts of beauty, for I am a beautiful God. It is a prosperous and just system, and those who give generously shall flourish.
"Now, newcomers as you are — you have partaken in our food and wine, and indulged in our services. You are obliged then, if you are to meddle in our affairs, to provide gifts of your own, for the great Elephant provides only for his own flock. One from each of you—" He rubbed his chin in thought, scanning over the misfit party. "—and they must be beautiful."
"Of course," simpered the monk, bent in half in a bow. "There is nothing we know better than beauty."
"Feel free to take from the pile for materials," said Elephant, pointing at the great mound of scavenged objects at his feet. The receptionist-girl squirmed uncomfortably in his other hand. "You have until the next sun turns. For your sakes, I hope you produce something... satisfactory."
—
"What in Hell were you thinking, fool monk?" hissed the blackmaw beggar as they waded through the piles of refuse. "Does this look like a bustling party of artisans to you?"
"Just follow my lead!" The monk said proudly. "Now is the time to teach you the fifth precept of Petals — beauty and grace."
Beaten Dog and Sano roved around for pieces to repurpose, but most were not suitable for use in art, for resources were always scarce in the desert, and the citizens of this town lived humbly. Stacks of twinewood chairs and stools, cracked clay pots, nets of discarded waterskeins, incense bowls, trimmings of woven rope.
"Not to worry!" chirped the monk as they walked. "Art is in the eye of the beholder. One can make masterpieces from anything if they set their mind to it."
"A masterpiece to glut that Elephant bastard's ego," grumbled the beggar. "He only wants to make himself a god by extorting these desert bumpkins for worship. Ain't sustainable. There's only so much more they got to give before he devours 'em whole."
Indeed, Sano had never heard of a god like Elephant; one who lived among the people and solicited worship like bellringers outside a church — back at home, her mothers had lit incense for the old spirits and that was about it. She had heard little of deities, even less for deities who used to be mortal demons; the idea of declaring oneself God seemed rather silly and childish.
"We aren't doing this for Elephant," retorted the monk. "We're doing it for that poor girl! It's our fault she was unable to procure a gift, after all."
Then again, Sano supposed, Elephant was the biggest demon she had ever seen. No demon ever grew that large on their own; those names were spoken into power by being whispered by many voices. If one insisted on being called divine, you might eventually become so, Sano mused. In that sense, becoming a god would be quite easy— her mother always used to say a lie spoken over and over again eventually becomes the truth, so long as it is never disputed.
"The principles of the Order of Petals are that of gentleness," said the monk, "and of beauty. Of this principle, we and Elephant are one and the same. For beauty is cleanliness, the deepest care for thine soul — the first step to creating a better world is to make it beautiful."
"And that is why we are making art?" The beggar asked skeptically.
"For art is beautiful," said the monk.
—
"Dearest Elephant," said the monk, "we present to you our gifts."
The red sun-eye was high overhead, bloodshot at the edges, its fiery pupil casting searing heat unto the sand below. The gift-giving ritual was over, and so the townsfolk had transitioned to their ritual of worship. They beat large drums, chanting Divine Elephant's name to the rhythm. Townspeople knelt in prayer in front of Elephant effigies, praying with such fervor they scalded their hands on the sand and foamed at the mouth.
Elephant sat and held the receptionist-girl in his palm, as he had before, watching the procession carefully. He gestured for the party to present.
First, the monk stepped forward. Their gift was delicately crafted from shards of glass to resemble Elephant's mask, which caught the light and made it spill across the sand in dazzling, wonderful colors. It was endowed with sweet incense which emitted such a scent it drew tears from those who stood close. The gift was accepted with open arms, placed high among the pile.
Secondly, the beggar stepped forward. It took a long swig of the black drink, wiping its mouth on its sleeve, before it sat cross-legged on the ground and pulled out a repurposed drum. It began to play the rhythm of a war-tune using all four of its arms, chanting along in a throaty voice:
A toast to Divine Elephant,
whose strength could rival angels',
whose mercy is short and fickle,
and whose hand descends with certainty of death.
This was a traditional Hellish chant of veneration, and was readily accepted by Elephant.
"I didn't know you knew song-tongues," the monk said, impressed.
"Shut yon gawp," the beggar mumbled, "Tis embarrassing."
Third was Beaten Dog, who shuffled forward with a canvas made of stretched hide and bone. He had made a painting of Elephant from makeshift pigments, and despite the crude nature of the construction, the forms of the figure were surprisingly elegant. It was accepted, though without much fanfare.
The last to present a gift was Sano. The crowd watched in anticipation as she stepped forward, nervously preening at the scales on her hands.
"Here," she said, taking her gift from her pocket and sliding it forward.
It was the most beautiful rock she could find after scouring the hills of trash. Smooth to the touch, nearly spherical, it had grooves that resembled Elephant's platemail. Patches of oxidation colored parts of it the same shade of green as the paint adorning his armor.
The staring crowd was silent. Sano shuffled uncomfortably under their scrutiny.
"What is this?" said Elephant after a long pause.
"It's a rock I found," replied Sano.
Elephant's face was largely unmoving, but his upper lip curled just slightly to bare blunt teeth. "You consider this... sufficient?"
"Yes? I don't know." Sano bristled defensively. "I wasn't trying to make a bad gift. I can't draw or paint or sculpt or sing or nothing, so I found this."
"So you chose to equate," Elephant said, "my grandeur to a pebble?"
"Sano," the monk muttered nervously, but Sano spoke first.
"I looked hard for it! You wanted beautiful, it was the most beautiful one I could find that looks like you." Sano stood her ground, tail feathers swaying agitatedly. "Me and my siblings gave each other rocks for gifts all the time."
"Then, dear girl, I am sorry your clutch is unilluminated on the nature of true beauty," said Elephant, shaking his head in pity, unknowingly filling Sano with searing anger.
"Don't talk that way about them!" Sano squawked. "Just cause you're big doesn't make you a god! You just make people worship you like you are!"
Elephant's free fist slammed into the ground, making the earth tremble. "Insolent girl! You make a mockery of this place, of our rituals, with this pathetic display! It is about time a proper authority disciplined you."
With that, he crushed the receptionist-girl in his palm, smeared the resultant mess on the floor, and lunged forward.
Sano's party was quick to react.
But none were quicker than Sano, who had been taught by her master to draw her sword as thoughtlessly as breath. Faster than light, the blade was in her hands, and with hatred thrumming in her heart, Sano cleaved an arc of force through the very sky.
Mid-motion, Elephant's entire bulk jerked to a stop. It seemed he had simply paused. Then the right half of his face went slack, sagging to the side, his proud gold mask cleaved cleanly in two. It fell to the ground, followed by one tusk and a row of his outstretched fingertips. The suit of armor so lovingly adorning him fell apart like thin foil and clattered on the stones below.
And so divine Elephant slumped backwards and his life dissolved into smoke. His colossal body thudded to the floor, crushing most of the buildings beneath it, and lay still.
The watching townsfolk were agog, not in despair but pure shock, for all of this had transpired in a matter of seconds. Sano stood where she had frozen, breathing heavily.
"...we need to go! We're going!" said the monk finally.
They sprung forward and grabbed Sano by the wrist, dragging her from the spot she was rooted.
Before the townsfolk could recover, they were gone like thieves, the red sun turning overhead to a putrid moon.