The child cowering before me was barely 12.

I sighed, knowing fully well that this was neither the first nor the last time.

And they call me the eldritch horror.

I change to a human form and make myself smaller, until I am almost as small as the child.

Almost.

“Do not be afraid, child” I say: “I accepted your parents offer only so that you may remain safe. If I had not answered, they’d have progressively moved down the ladder until they were selling you to their supplier for their next fix.”

The child remains silent, but two fat tears come out of her eyes.

Should have probably left that last part out. Oops!

I walk upto the girl and pat her hair in a vaguely human gesture: “There, there. You are safe now.”

“Within my realm, you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. You have full access to my library, the knowledge of universe is at your disposal.

If you want to learn a specific skillset, a tutor will be provided for you.”

I scratch my head. What else do 12 year olds require?

Of course!

I speak again: “I think you should also have friends. I will see to it that you go to the best school in the realm. Veromir?”

The arch demon was only pretending to not pay attention. At the mention of his name, he swiftly transformed into a young man wearing a crisp white suit and appeared in front of me:

“Yes Allfather?”

“You will be the girl’s father. You will take her to her school and bring her back, and you will accompany her whenever she wants to roam around in the human world.”

A curt nod, then Veromir transforms again. This time to a middle aged man. I can see he has the attire of a minor lord, important enough to get his way but minor enough to be noticed by the people who might realise something is amiss.

Smart chap.

I frown, then remember.

“One more thing” I say, and produce a pouch.

“This is a magic purse” I declare: “Whenever you want to purchase something, put your hand inside and it will provide the exact change.”

“ If you need anything else, just call my name and ask, and it will be provided for. I am omnipotent and omniscient, so I will instantly know what you are asking for.”

“Do not think of me as a God, think of me as a guardian that you now have.”

The child has stopped crying by now. She gives me the smallest of nods, then turns around and leaves.

I whistle again, and the Archangel Galadriel appears before me. He bows down, wordlessly.

“Keep her safe” I say: “Watch over her 24/7”

Galadriel gives me briefest of nods, then disappears.

I was busy designing a new world when the girl walks in.

“Ah, Eleanor” I say, not unkindly: “What brings you here?”

The girl stands, hesitating. She is 14 now. Veromir tells me her education is coming along well.

“Speak, child” I assure her: “there is nothing I will not grant you.”

Very softly, almost in a whisper, the girl says “Allfather Xy’xy’kul, Veromir tells me that my parents are planning to sell my baby brother.”

She says nothing else.

I get up.

“Let’s get this sorted.”

An apocalyptic storm descends upon the town, as I storm to Eleanor’s parents. For this, I have chosen a form that horrifies humans and almost drives them insane.

Almost.

“You dare?” I thunder: “You dare to put my consort’s siblings for sale like some salted fish?

Eleanor’s parents fall to the ground, prostrating themselves and begging for forgiveness.

“For this blasphemy, I claim all your remaining children. There will be no recompense.”

“Further, any future child you may have will automatically come to me.”

On our way back, accompanied by a new gaggle of children (Eleanor’s many siblings), Eleanor softly whispers “Thank you, Allfather Xy’xy’kul”

“Anytime, child.”

More in a bit.