Game Master in Another World

I found myself a ghost again, suspended over a burning village. Below me, men in soldiers' uniforms were setting thatched roofs alight and cutting down anyone who tried to escape. The screams and the thick, black smoke were visceral, tearing me from my peace.

The last thing I remembered was watching Illara pass away peacefully in her sleep. Our life together had been fulfilling, and when her heart finally stopped, I had chosen to let go of my physical tether to follow her, wherever that may be.

Yet here I was. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but looking down at the slaughter below, I knew I couldn’t just be a silent watcher. Not again.

I had done it once before: created life from nothing but my memories. My first creation, Drisnil, was based on the lethal villain of an old tabletop campaign. She had proven incredibly difficult to control, her bloodthirsty motivations a constant thorn in my side. This time, I needed to create someone who actually wanted to save the world, someone with the immense, god-like power to do so. A max-level Druid. Juliana.

I focussed, recalling the exact sensation—the sheer, desperate will—required to give Drisnil form. I pictured Juliana as a living, breathing person; a Nhalyri woman born of nature.

Reality began to bend around me. The air grew heavy with the sudden scent of petrichor and ancient forests. An unnatural shudder passed through my spectral form as the world violently shook, making way for something massive.

Suddenly, the ghostly detachment vanished. I was looking at the burning village through another’s eyes. Juliana had arrived.

Foreign memories coursed through my mind. The most recent was of her defeating a multi-headed chromatic dragon, a battle devastating enough to level entire cities. I could feel the lingering sense of accomplishment as she and her party celebrated their hard-fought victory.

I seized the helm, speaking out loud through Juliana’s lips. “This is Geoff, the man who created you. Could you please help save these villagers?”

I released my grip on her, and I felt her body instantly shift into a more comfortable, alert stance.

“Yes, my god. I shall do as you command immediately.”

Juliana tilted her head toward the sky and spoke a harsh incantation. Immediately, the clear blue sky blackened with thick, roiling clouds. The heavens opened with a torrential downpour, hissing against the burning thatched roofs and rapidly extinguishing the flames.

The soldiers froze, staring up into the sudden storm. The nearest man dropped his torch, pointing upward. “Where did those clouds come from? The sky was clear a second ago!”

“Was it a god’s interference?” another soldier answered, his voice quavering.

Juliana spoke a second incantation. A blinding bolt of lightning tore from the clouds, striking a nearby soldier and felling him instantly. The guard next to him just stared at the smoking corpse in sheer terror. Shortly after, more bolts began to rain down from the sky, each strike violently and precisely hitting its mark.

The surviving soldiers broke rank and ran. They screamed, dropping their weapons in the mud to flee faster. But Juliana did not let up until every single soldier lay dead.

With a final, whispered incantation, the black clouds dispersed just as quickly as they had appeared. Juliana immediately ran to a child lying in the mud, a brutal stab wound piercing her stomach.

Another word of power left Juliana's lips, and the child's horrific wounds knit together and healed in an instant. Juliana scooped the girl up in her arms and carried her toward the nearest intact house.

“Do not fear, my child,” Juliana said, her voice brimming with absolute certainty. “For the god Geoff has seen fit to save your village through me, his chosen vessel.”

The suddenness and efficiency Juliana had shown to accomplish the goal had shocked me.  It was but a simple command which Juliana then executed immediately and ruthlessly.  Then introducing me as the god that had saved the village felt unearned, for Juliana had done the hard work, but I had merely given her the order.

Juliana approached the door of the house and knocked politely, “I, Juliana, the vessel of Geoff bring a child who I saved upon his greatnesses command.  The soldiers have all departed this realm and it is now safe to leave your abode.”

The sheer level of reverence radiating from her mind left me deeply uncomfortable. It was far too much.

The door of the house creaked open a fraction, and a young woman peered through the gap, her eyes wide with terror. They immediately snapped to the child in Juliana’s arms.

“Oh, Grace! You’re safe!” The woman threw the door open wide, reaching out with trembling hands. “Did you see her parents out there?”

Juliana shook her head, her expression serene. “Unfortunately, she is the only villager I was able to shield in time. I have the power to bring her parents back to life, but their new forms will differ. They may be reborn as animals.”

The woman stared at Juliana, her jaw slack with a mixture of awe and horror. “Thank you... but no,” she whispered, pulling the girl tight against her chest. “To live as a beast while your child remains human... I wouldn't wish that curse on them. I will raise Grace. Thank you for saving us. Please, speak to the village elder; she will surely want to reward you. Her house is the large one near the centre.”

Juliana simply nodded, relinquishing the child.

I needed to set some ground rules immediately, before this worship got completely out of hand. I seized control of her vocal cords. Her spine instantly lost its rigid, divine posture, her shoulders slumping into a casual slouch.

“Right, Juliana,” I said out loud, using her voice. “There is absolutely no need to worship me. And we definitely need to stop telling other people about me.”

I released control. Juliana’s spine snapped straight again.

“But your magnificence should not be kept a secret!” Juliana replied aloud, her brow furrowing in genuine distress. “It would be a tragedy for this world to remain ignorant of you.”

A surviving villager, stepping tentatively out of his ruined home, froze. He gave Juliana the exact kind of look you give a person arguing aggressively with thin air.

I winced mentally and took the wheel again. “Okay, look. Can I just be your personal god? I’m not ready for my name to be known far and wide yet. Let's keep it a secret between us.”

Juliana nodded her head slowly. “If that is your holy command, I shall obey. But please note my profound disappointment at not being permitted to spread your greatness.”

Letting her worship me in private was a necessary compromise. Annoying as it was, it meant Juliana was entirely devoted to me—a far cry from Drisnil, who would have stabbed me the moment she got the chance.

We made our way across the muddy square to the main house. Juliana knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door.

“It is your village saviour, Juliana,” she announced loudly. “As instructed by my Go—" She caught herself, forcing the words back down. "As instructed, I have saved your village from destruction.”

I heard a heavy latch slide back. The door swung open to reveal a tired woman with greying hair. Her eyes swept over Juliana, taking in her small frame, her strange druidic robes, and the unsettlingly serene smile plastered across her face.

“I... see. It is good to meet you,” the elder said hesitantly. “Thank you for saving Osworth. Please, come in.”

She motioned us inside. The interior was simple and rustic. A few worn books sat on a shelf, and rainwater from Juliana's magical storm was pooling in the hearth beneath the chimney.

We sat at the rough wooden table. The elder joined us, facing us with an expression where profound relief warred with utter exhaustion.

“Firstly, I’d like to reiterate my thanks for saving our humble village. My name is Beatrice,” she said, her voice raspy. “If there is anything we can do for you, please ask.”

Juliana simply sat there, a wide, serene smile fixed on her face. “I need nothing at present that is not already provided for me.”

“Right...” Beatrice replied, giving Juliana a deeply quizzical look. “Now, as for your reward. We don’t have anything of true value here. The war taxes have ensured we have little to spare in the way of coin. The best we can offer is free food and board, plus a potential introduction to Lord Dimetrius.”

Juliana continued to smile, wide and unblinking. I could tell it was starting to genuinely unnerve Beatrice. I suddenly remembered the backstory I’d written for Juliana years ago: raised in the brutal depths of Nhalyri society, she had suffered a difficult upbringing that left her personality rather warped. It had made her an interesting, edgy character to play at a table. But now, seeing that unyielding, slightly unhinged smile play out in real life, I desperately wished I had just given her a normal childhood.

“I would love to stay with you all, and will graciously accept your offer of introduction,” Juliana replied in a sweet, perfectly steady voice.

Beatrice quickly stood up, motioning for us to follow. “I’ll take you to a house you can use. It’s currently empty and, thankfully, wasn't set alight.”

Beatrice walked slowly, leaning heavily on a walking stick, and led us back out into the village square. Survivors were emerging from their homes. Several were weeping over the bodies of fallen family members in the mud. The sight hit me like a physical blow; a heavy regret settled in my chest that I hadn't been able to save more of them.

But looking around, one detail stood out: there were almost no men.

I seized control. Juliana’s unsettling smile instantly vanished, her spine relaxing into a casual slouch. “I’ve noticed there are relatively few men here. Why is that?”

Beatrice, taken aback by the sudden shift in both posture and tone, actually stumbled a little.

“Why, they have all been drafted into this war that never seems to end,” Beatrice said, recovering her footing. “We have lost so many to the endless conflict, but we cannot give in. If we do, we will experience total destruction, as you saw today. The nation of Forlinth is vicious. They commonly burn villages like ours to the ground, murdering everyone inside.”

I stopped walking. When I was last alive, thirty years ago, there were no major wars that I knew of.

“One more question, please. It might sound silly, but what year is it?”

Once again, Beatrice gave my stolen face a deeply puzzled look. “It is the year 778.”

The realisation struck me immediately: it had been exactly thirty years since Illara had passed, the day I had decided to let my existence fade. For some reason, three decades later, I had been pulled back.

“Are you alright? You look as though my answer shocked you,” Beatrice asked cautiously.

“Ah, yes. I’ve been living as a hermit for thirty years. This war is all completely new to me,” I lied.

Deep in my mind, I felt a sharp spike of Juliana’s discomfort. Her divine soul physically recoiled at the deception.

Beatrice nodded slowly. “I’ve heard you elves are long-lived. I suppose that explains your lack of common knowledge. The war started roughly fifteen years ago, with a terrible attack on the major port town of Gorinth. They burned it to the ground. Killed everyone.”

I let Juliana have control again. Her spine snapped rigid, and that terrifyingly sweet smile returned to her lips.

“That is most deplorable,” Juliana replied.

Beatrice tensed up visibly, looking at us with thinly veiled disbelief.

“Anyway… this is the house you can use,” Beatrice said, gesturing to a small cottage. “I will be sending a messenger to report to the Lord tomorrow about this attack. I recommend you travel with them to Freyton City to be rewarded properly.”

Juliana nodded gracefully. “I shall indeed accompany your party tomorrow.”

We stepped inside the empty house, and I heard Beatrice hurrying away—moving considerably faster than her limp had allowed just moments before.

We sat down at the simple, dust-coated table. Juliana remained perfectly still, retaining that wide, unblinking smile.

I took back control. I needed to help her seem more normal, somehow. I slumped our shoulders forward and let out a long sigh.

“Why are you smiling so much?” I asked aloud, rubbing the bridge of our nose.

I released my grip. Juliana instantly straightened our spine, clasping her hands neatly on the table.

“I am just so extraordinarily happy to have a literal god dwelling within me,” Juliana replied, her voice practically vibrating with joy. “I cannot imagine a more blessed scenario.”

I took the wheel again, leaning forward. “Alright, but could you maybe tone it down a little? It’s scaring people, seeing you smile like that all the time.”

Juliana’s brow furrowed as she regained control. “Oh? But why would a friendly smile be scary?”

“Because smiles are only meant to be used in moderation,” I said, forcing our hands to gesture for emphasis. “A constant, unchanging smile makes you look deranged.”

Juliana’s smile dropped instantly. Her face fell into an expression of profound horror. “I am so sorry, my Lord God. I did not mean to besmirch this holy vessel you created for me with a negative appearance.”

“It’s fine. Just... from now on, save the smiles for short periods of time. Also, please, just call me Geoff. I insist.”

Juliana shifted uncomfortably in the chair, her hands twisting together. “But... that would not show nearly enough reverence toward your greatness.”

I buried our face in our hands, groaning out loud. “Please. Consider it an absolute order. I wish to be known simply as Geoff.”

Juliana sat up perfectly straight again, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. “If it is a holy mandate, I must obey. I shall endeavour to follow your decrees as closely as possible, Lord Geoff.”

I winced mentally. She’d already found a loophole by attaching ‘Lord’ to it, and the phrase ‘as closely as possible’ deeply concerned me. There were times when intent could be fatally misconstrued by phrasing alone.

I took control, looking down at our clasped hands. “Listen to me carefully. Please do not follow my orders blindly. If I wanted a mindless puppet, I would control you directly all the time. But I don't. I want a person I can trust to act on my behalf, someone who can look at my orders and identify the true intent behind them.”

I let go. Juliana nodded eagerly. “I truly do not mind being controlled by you, Lord Geoff. It fills me with absolute ecstasy knowing that you are the one in command of my flesh.”

“But I mind,” I snapped, taking over again. The bitter irony of the situation hit me hard. For years, Drisnil had fought me tooth and nail for every scrap of autonomy. She had despised the invisible chains that bound us, and I had hated being the one holding the leash. Now, I had the exact opposite problem. Juliana was practically begging me to pull her strings, and somehow, it felt just as wrong. “I wish to share this body with you, Juliana. I value you as a person, not merely as a vessel.”

Juliana beamed, that terrifyingly wide smile returning in full force. “You graciously compliment me! I feel so deeply fulfilled right now. Thank you, Lord Geoff, for gracing me so kindly with your holy words.”

I gave up. With the ground rules somewhat established—or at least, awkwardly negotiated—I felt a little less worried about the immediate future. But getting it wrong was still going to be incredibly costly. The raw magical power Juliana commanded could easily rival a nuclear weapon, and the trigger was entirely dependent on a fanatic trying to interpret my casual English.

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