The little girl looked up, her tear-streaked face a mixture of awe and fear. "You can fly without wings, and you can speak without a mouth," she whispered. The words were a simple, unshakable truth from her small world. "Only gods can do that."

The artifact processed her words, though it did not know the full meaning of this title. It knew humans bowed before beings they called gods. They asked for help and offered food, meat, and other things. It knew there were many different gods, described in various shapes with different powers. Humans believed gods were powerful and held the solutions to their problems. But it had never seen any of the gods. The artifact had some powers too, but it was not all-knowing. It did not even know what it was. Perhaps the child was right. If she was not, then what was the alternative? It had no answer.

“Why. Do. You. Cry?” it asked, its strange, chiming voice resonating through the quiet clearing.

Hope bloomed in her eyes, eclipsing her fear as she looked up. "Great God," she pleaded, "I was looking for herbs for my mother. She is sick."

“Sick.” The artifact understood the situation. Sickness was a malfunction of the physical body, a state where it did not function as it was supposed to.

"The village healer said… he said she is cursed," the girl continued, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "No one will help us because they are afraid of curse. They told me to stay away from her." Her voice broke on a small sob. "I came to the forest to find some herbs, but I don’t know which ones are good for her." She carefully opened a small, frayed cloth she had been clutching. Inside was a sad collection of common leaves and roots. "I tried to gather all the herbs I know about, but now I am lost."

She bowed her head again, her small hands clasped together tightly. "Oh, Great God, please help me and show me the way out," she begged. Her voice was raw with a desperation that made the energy around her pulse.

The artifact sensed it. The familiar aura coming from her was stronger than that of most people it had observed. Extending its senses, it felt the presence of a human settlement nearby.

“Come. With. Me. I. Will. Show. You. The. Way.”

A small, watery smile touched the girl's lips. The artifact began to float forward, its golden light serving as a steady beacon in the forest gloom. She scrambled to her feet and followed behind.

“God, thank you for your help,” she said, her small voice filled with relief. As she followed, she looked at the artifact with open curiosity. This was her first time seeing a god.

“God, do you live in this forest?" she asked. "Or like other gods, do you live in the heavens beyond the sky and clouds?”

“I. Came. From. Up. In. The. Sky,” the artifact replied. “I. Do. Not. Live. Anywhere. I. Just. Wander.”

She heard this and nodded, her child's mind forming its own conclusion. "So, you help many people and always travel for their sake. Great God, you are really kind.”

The artifact did not know what to say. It had always wandered, but it had never helped anyone before. No one had ever asked for its help. This little girl was the first.

The journey back through the forest was not easy for her. The floor was a tangled web of gnarled roots and thorny vines, and her small legs, already tired from hours of wandering, struggled with each step. But her eyes never left the golden light. She stumbled.

A thick root caught her foot, sending her onto the damp earth. A low sound of pain came from her lips. A few precious herbs from her collection scattered onto the dark soil, and a tiny sob of frustration escaped her. She quickly pushed herself up. Her hands were scraped and muddy, but she ignored the sting. She completely ignored the sharp, stinging pain in her knee. Her focus was on the herbs. Every one.

With great care, she gathered every last leaf and root, tucking them safely back into her frayed cloth. Then, without a moment's hesitation, she limped forward. Her gaze was locked on her guide. The artifact saw the old scratches. Dark bruises and old scratches littered her lower legs, a silent testament to her many past struggles and falls.

After walking for what felt like a long time, the woods thinned. They finally left the dense trees. The dense woods finally gave way, and the world opened up. They stood on a gentle slope in a hilly area, watching small, green hills roll across the distant landscape. A stream. It gurgled out from the forest. It was the very same stream she had been lost near. It wound its way through a plain of tall grass, and nestled along its banks, a small village could be seen. Thin smoke rose from the roofs. Home.

The little girl’s face broke into a wide, relieved smile. She turned to the hovering golden artifact and immediately bowed low, pressing her small palms together in deep gratitude. "Great God, thank you," she whispered. "You showed me the way."

She stood up. But she hesitated. Her small hands twisted the frayed edge of her cloth bag. She looked from the artifact to her village, then back again. "Great God," she began, her voice small and uncertain. "If you are tired from your wandering, you can rest in my home." She quickly added, "But my home is very small. If you don't want to stay with us, you can stay in the village chief's house! It is the biggest. The village will be so happy to see you."

“No. Need. I. Will. Go. Back.” the artifact replied. It knew its presence caused fear in adults. It had learned that lesson. A child’s awe was one thing. A village of fearful adults was another entirely. It would not repeat the mistake. It began to float higher, preparing to depart.

"Wait! Great God, please wait!" the girl cried out, a note of panic in her voice. "At least receive some offerings."

The artifact paused in its ascent. It had observed this ritual. Humans gave their valuable things to gods or spirits.

The girl's eyes lit up, seeing the golden object stop. "We have sweet fruits and honey in the village. They are very delicious and rare. I have heard even the village chief can only get them sometimes. They are really good.” She looked up at the silent, golden object, her voice full of temptation.

She was trying to bring the God to her village. If God enjoys its stay, I might receive a blessing, she thought. I could ask it to cure Mother. Even if God didn't bless her, the villagers would see her merit. They would see that a god had met her, that she had brought a god to their village. Everyone would praise her. The healer would finally agree to treat her mother. Then she would be cured. No one would mistreat them again. This was her only chance.

The artifact processed her words. It did not understand her complex motives. It had provided help. It knew some humans showed a gesture of thanks. An offering was now being made to it for helping the child. But it was not a god. It had observed humans for many years. It had never seen any of their gods appear. Yet they worshipped them. There must be something there that it did not know. But refusing an offering might be incorrect. It could not appear before many people. However, there was an another way.

“I. Will. Accept. Your. Offer. I. Will. Rest. In. Your. Home.”

A brilliant, triumphant smile lit up the little girl's face. "This way, Great God! My home is just over there!" she said, pointing toward a small, isolated hut set away from the main village. It was nestled near some trees.

The girl led the way with eager, hurried steps. Her home was a small, lonely hut. A small, well-tended garden grew outside the simple mud-and-thatch dwelling, filled with neat rows of leafy green vegetables and various plants.

"This is my home, Great God." The girl announced this, her voice soft with pride and apology. She pushed open the creaky wooden door and entered. The artifact followed. It floated. It passed silently behind her, through the doorway and into the dim interior of the single, small room.

A simple clay stove sat in one corner. Utensils were on a shelf. On the far side, a woman lay. She rested on a thick cushion of woven dry grass, which was covered with patched clothes to serve as her bed. She was thin, her skin stretched taut. Her face was etched with worry. The moment her daughter entered, that worry dissolved. It was replaced by an overwhelming, sudden wave of immense relief.

“Ana!" "Where have you been?" she cried. Her voice was raspy but full of relief. The girl rushed to her side and was immediately pulled into a tight, desperate hug from her mother. The woman's eyes grew moist.

She held Ana at arm's length, scanning her. "How did you get so much dirt on you? Did you fell somewhere?" she scolded, her relief now mixed with parental anger.

"I asked the healer for help." Ana's voice was small and guilty. "But he refused me again. He said you were cursed and sent me away," she explained, her gaze dropping to the floor. "So I went to the forest."

Her mother's face went pale. She gripped Ana’s shoulders. "The forest? Ana, have you lost your mind?" she scolded, her voice rising with a fresh wave of fear. "There are wolves in there! You could have…" She couldn't finish. Her voice choked with emotion. She hugged her again. So tight. She pulled her daughter into another fierce hug, as if to reassure herself that she was truly safe and sound.