A painted close view of a whitewashed stone wall beside a weathered wooden door standing ajar on darkness. A small square niche is cut into the wall holding a guttered candle stub with cobwebs strung across the opening, and a faded spiral mark is painted on the wall above it. On the step below sits a shallow earthen bowl, empty except for one dry brown leaf.

A household niche gone cold: the stub burned out, cobwebs across the opening, a leaf in the offering bowl and nobody in a hurry to lift it out. Whoever was fed here is not being fed here now.

In one line

The gods here are real, numerous and hungry: they live on what people freely give them, they can do only as much as that allows — and a god whose believers run out does not linger.

How it works

Gods here run on belief the way a fire runs on wood. Worship, prayer, invoking a god's name, fighting under it: each gives a little, and a god's strength is breadth rather than depth — many small streams, none of which the giver feels the loss of. So a god with many believers can do much, and a god with few can do almost nothing. Every divine act draws on what belief has built: a blessing, a class, a healing, and most expensively of all a body to stand in front of you. Gods compete for congregations, and sometimes cooperate for them.

An aged printed plate showing a flow of many fine strands. On the left, under WHAT COMES IN, four small vignettes labelled WORSHIP, PRAYER, INVOKING THE NAME and FIGHTING UNDER IT, with the note MANY SMALL STREAMS. NO GIVER FEELS THE LOSS. The strands gather through a pale sphere at the centre labelled WHAT BELIEF HAS BUILT, then spread to the right into vignettes labelled A BLESSING, A CLASS, A HEALING, and A BODY TO STAND IN FRONT OF YOU, the last bracketed MOST EXPENSIVE OF ALL. Along the bottom a long tapering wedge runs from THE HEARTH GOD OF ONE VILLAGE at the narrow end to A GOD WITH A CITY BEHIND IT at the wide end.

Belief arrives as many small streams that no giver feels the loss of, and goes back out as blessings, classes, healings and, most expensively of all, a body to stand in front of you. The wedge along the bottom is the entire difference between a village hearth god and a god with a city behind it.

Where it comes from

Not from a book of rules. The arrangement is older than anything now praying under it, and the books do not explain where it began. What they do show is the bottom of it: small gods who trade small gifts for small worship and do not ask for temples — the hearth god of one village, the road god of one road, the granary god of one granary — and, at the other end, gods with cities behind them.

Who cares about it

Where you'll meet it

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