Jan woke up in a gigantic, human bed, and stretched and yawned with a big smile. The woman, whose name he learned was Galatea, had tucked him under three, human-sized blankets, read him a story, and sang him to sleep. He didn't know if they meant him any harm, but he couldn't deny he felt inexplicably safe in their presence. 

He awoke to see the woman sitting next to his bed. He thought she might be a very short woman, but it was hard to tell, since he was so tiny. She had black hair that was tied into a tight bun on her head with silver hair streaking across it, denoting graceful age. 

She was portly, like he was, but carried it well–and he could tell it was due to age and perhaps having a child, although he only had a vague idea of what that meant. She wore spectacles and was reading a book when she saw that he was awake. She snapped the book closed and regarded him with a smile, bowing her head slightly. “How are you, My Lord?”

Jan cleared his throat. He wanted to continue being waited on by this woman, so he had to seem as dignified as possible. “I am well, but require sustenance if I am to give you my blessings and protection. Do you have any breakfast?”

“I do. It got cold, but it is befitting of a demigod.” she left the room and he slumped against the giant pillow, allowing himself to be slovenly. 

Now that she was gone, he could take a moment to contemplate how to find his mother. He had so little information about what a demigod even was, what gods even were, or where his mother lived. Every moment he was away from her and his green paradise (which he still could not come to terms with was a paludarium), he became more and more stressed. He was glad he was exhausted enough to just fall asleep the day before, because now, while he was alone in this big room, he was getting terrified.

The shadow in the corner of his room looked like a human. He gulped. 

Galatea came back in with a plate of food, nearly making him jump out of his skin. 

Galatea smiled and bit back a laugh. “Sorry, did I scare you? I’ll try and remember to knock.” 

“You should, you silly human! You should show me the respect I’m owed!” he snapped.

The woman got down on her knees, clasping her hands together contritely. “Forgive me, Great One.”

Jan swallowed, suddenly feeling very guilty. He cleared his throat. “Don’t… don’t worry about it. Stand up.”

She obeyed, and rose to her feet and brought him a giant plate of food. He recognized that he would have difficulties actually eating the food, as it dwarfed him in size, except for the grapes on the plate.

He scratched his chin, wondering how to go about it. He looked at Galatea, and asked, “Um… do you mind cutting the food up a bit more… but thank you so much. It smells so good.”

Galatea smiled and came to sit on his bedside. She used a knife and fork to cut the food up, and Jan licked his lips. She passed the plate back to him, and he tried to struggle free from his multiple blankets, but ended up panting with exertion when he couldn’t.

He remembered his powers again, and, with his tongue sticking out, he clenched his fists under the blanket and moved it off him easily. 

Galatea watched with wonderment in her eyes. She cleared her throat and said, “I never did thank you for saving me earlier. I thank you now.” 

Jan smiled, reveling in her praise. “Of course. I will protect all my loyal subjects.”

Jan hopped on top of the blankets and navigated the ripples and bumps in the blanket–face pensive–to try and get to the plate of food. He slipped on one of the ripples and fell backward. Galatea laughed. Jan crossed his arms and made a face. 

Galatea scooped him up in her hands and placed him on the plate. “Strange that something so powerful should be so small.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Jan said as he used his fingers to pick up the tiny slices of grapes to eat. He smiled, and immediately felt stress leave his shoulders and felt about a million times kinder in spirit. 

I was stressed, but I was also hungry… a dangerous combination. Jan nodded to himself. 

Jan also picked at a piece of bread on his plate, but somehow found, after eating his grapes, that his appetite had somehow dwindled. He frowned heavily, thinking of the foods his mother used to make for him. 

Galatea asked, “What is wrong? Is the food not to your liking, My Lord?”

“No, it’s befitting a feast for a god, but… do you know anything of, um… where the gods live?” Jan cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering if it was odd that a demigod did not know such a thing. 

There was a pause. The woman looked confused. Then she asked, "You do not know…? But you are the goddess's son…"

Jan nodded slowly. "I am…"

Jan decided not to elaborate. It seemed as if most demigods were not raised the way he was, and he didn't know if Galatea would throw him out if she discovered he was not like a regular demigod. 

"I see… were you raised on earth? Some gods do that." Galatea pressed. 

Jan silently shook his head, refusing to elaborate any more than he already had.

Galatea went silent, also. She scratched her chin. "Well… I suppose you must have your reasons for being silent. But I will tell you of the land of the gods--of your parents. It is a land called Paradise, a land of clouds and wonder. Up on the clouds live the gods. The gods preside over humans up there, and make their own kind of humans when it suits them. Your mother--the goddess of love--is our patron goddess. She made us of the dark eyes. She shaped us with inspriation, and a desire to make the world a better place."

Jan smiled to himself. "Sounds like ma, alright…" 

"We worship her as our mother, but we also give thanks to everything she gives us. For without her, we would still be clay of the earth." Galatea's hands were clasped together, a motion Jan was unfamiliar with. 

"Your mother? But she is my mother…" Jan didn't like the sound of his mother having more than one child. He was her special child--it didn't make sense for her to have more than one. 

"She is not our mother in the same sense that that she is yours. You have a drop of her very soul, we were merely created with her loving hands, but we don't share a drop of her soul. Do you know how demigods are made, My Lord?" Galatea asked.

"If course I do, you mortal fool!" Jan's cheeks were red, he was unwilling to admit he had no such knowledge. He cleared his throat, and then looked down. "But… maybe you should tell me just in case."

Galatea was terrified for a moment from what he had said, about her being a fool, but at the rest of his sentence, her face softened, and she smiled compassionately. She cleared her throat. "When gods feel great love for each other, they take a piece of each other--whether it be a finger, a toe, a rib, or even a strand of hair, and the one they love breathes life into the torn body part."

Jan remembered the pinky fingers torn off his mother and father's hands, and recognized that must have been how he was made. 

"I see… do you know of a way to reach the heavens? I was sent here by accident." Jan asked.

Sunlight pouring in the room from the open window lit up Galatea's face, but her frown remained heavy. "The only way I know of is for a god to come down and bring you back up himself." 

Jan's heart dropped. He swallowed, and then remembered that his mother would most certainly never abandon him. He forced a smile and said, "Well then, it is merely a matter of waiting for my mother to come get me."

Galatea smiled in return. "Yes. I'm sure she will come for you shortly. In the meantime, we will keep you safe. Would you like a tour of the temple ground after you finish eating?"

Jan, who had already eaten through his meal, nodded. "I would love to."

Once Jan finished his breakfast, he thought about making himself another fabric blanket to fly on, but Galatea offered to carry him on her hands, and he accepted her offer. It’s unbecoming for me to have to carry myself around.

Their home was quite humble, but peaceful. Jan saw many new things within their house. In fact, he had seen nothing but new things since he had come to earth. At the corners of most of the rooms were bamboo trees growing strong, the floors creaked under Galatea’s feet as she showed him each room, but he enjoyed the hollow, wooden sound. The building itself had sliding doors and many were kept open, letting in a fresh, sea breeze and chilly air. Galatea had kindly knitted him a tiny sweater in the night, and he put it on now. 

She showed him the Room of Reverence, where people came to worship his mother. There was one person in the room when he entered. He saw her bowed on all-fours, between two pots that were gently burning incense. The woman was in tears, begging for solutions to her problems from his mother. 

He felt a twinge in his heart, gazing upon the woman. Will my ma help her?

Next, she showed him the porch. There was a bench on the porch, overlooking the city and the ocean, and Jan inhaled the ocean’s scent with a smile, wowed by the smell.