You know, it's been a while since someone gave me a child.

I used to have orphanages across the continent, my temples were second chances for children from homes destroyed by war. There were parents, unable to care for the children due to circumstances they could not control, offering their children a safe place.

So somehow I was mixed up with a different entity.I've never met the deity in question, we come and we go, take on new faces and names. I don't know who they were before they took on the mantle, or they even existed.

I'm content to be irrelevant, less orphans is a good thing, less people needing my temples. One of the recent wars had them evacuated, and they were simply never inhabitated again.

A family turned up, lighting candles on my alters, overnight meals. Flowers, lovely flowers, a feast, a celebration. I walked among them, the family large enough that they could mistake a stranger for a distant relative.

It wasn't until they brought the child out to walk down the path of petals to my statue, I realized this was a wedding.

Cultures come and go, scriptures lost in time. But a wedding remained the same. The extra extravagance may have been to lighten the mood, to overshadow the idea that they were offering up a young child.

Perhaps it was a mistake, and I have an ego befitting a God. Maybe this was not about me, and this ceremony was one to promise the girl to another family to a boy no present, or that this girl was ill, and they were celebrating a wedding that would never occur.

But she was instructed to place a wreath of flowers around the statues neck, one that matcher her own, and to sit at the feet of my statue.

"Accept my daughter as your bride, she is pure." The father said, and said nothing more for her. She was no older then 7. "I ask in exchange for wealth, befitting of the family of the god of prosperity."

There were many temples that littered the countryside, of gods of war and blood and worse. To offer and demand payment was something this family would have been smited for.

I waited, to see if this was just a ceremony. That they were not serious. I waited an hour as the families celebrations turned to restlessness.

"She's not a good enough bride." Someone said. "This was a waste of time."

There was a light of fear in the little girls eyes.

Some orphans that came to my temples were covered in bruises, praying for me to take them, as being an orphan was better then having parents. She looked up at my statue. It had lost an arm some time ago- a teenager had hooked their arm with mind and pretended to dance, and when they swung they broke the stone.

I could see her begging with her eyes, that I was real- because a husband might treat her better then her family.

"I accept your offer." I said, with turning heads. I had been an adult man moments prior. No one noticed when I changed forms to something a little smaller. I walked across the petals. Before they could ask me who I was, I motioned for the wreath around the statues neck to unwind, and pulled them to my own, they grew wild, growing into a cloak draping my back.

I did not have to kneel to meet her eyes, as my new form was that of a boy, just a little older then her. There was only curiosity in her eyes.

"What is your name?"

"Her name is-"

"I did not ask you." I spoke coldy, he bowed deep and walked backwards. I wish he tripped on a loose stone.

"Teveni." She said, so quiet a mortal would have trouble hearing her.

"Did you want to choose a new name?"

I would wait a few years, before asking. Names came with a weight to them and some kept their names, the only thing left that tied them to lost families, a gift they would carry until they died.

Some shed them. In this instance, I asked as Teveni ment "gift," in this context, it made me want to do like my fellow gods and smite the wedding guests.

"I don't know." She said, and shrugged like a child would being asked what they wanted for dinner.

"You can figure it out later." I said. "For now, I'll call you Teveni."

I pulled a loose stone from the ground. Her father rose after I stood, I suspected he wanted details on his payment, and was to scared to ask. This thing called itself my family. Part of my wished to remove the guests, to take the girl. But I had accepted an exchange.

I held my hand out. He extended his hands. I dropped the stone into his palm. He frowned, before checking himself to not seem disappointed.

"Plant this at your home on a fullmoon. The next morning with bring you wealth for generations, so long as you care for it."

He bowed once again, and I extinguished the candles, and opened the temple doors, a clear sign for them to leave.

When they were gone, I began to clean. The empty dishes they had left, and lit the candles once more so Teveni was not in the dark.

"Woah...."

She may not have seen magic before, I put on more of a show, she was in awe.

"Now, I want to make a few things clear." I said, sitting next to her. "Bed time is 8pm, always wipe your shoes at the doors and don't climb over the upstairs rafters, you might hurt yourself falling."

"Do I call you "husband"?"

"No, nah uh."

"Papa said to do what ever you said, even if I didn't like it, cause wives listen to husbands."

Maybe I should have gone the smiting option.

"I'll explain this better when you're older. Technically you're my wife, I accepted you in exchange for wealth, but you're not to do any wifely duties." I didn't know how much was explained to her about this. I used to watch kids play make belive, I saw marriages and divorces and marriages again as they played make believe. "I accepted you, to get you away from your family."

"They're mean."

"I thought so." I said. "I'm a God of nurture."

"Not nature?"

"No, nurture as is to help grow." I hoped she could understand what I meant, all kids had different ways of learning and retaining information. "A child is still growing, like a plant, so I have domain over both."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Be yourself, play in the mud, collect frogs, keep asking questions about the world." It was a strange question for me, kids naturally just wanted to be kids.

"What can I call you?"

I hadn't had a name in a while. I pondered for a moment, looking up at my statue. "Stump."

"Why?"

"Cause I got a stump." I said, the joke going over her head.

"So a stump means no arm?"

"Stump means a lack of something that used to be there." I said. "Like a tree stump."

"Oh! I get it now." She clapped her hands, and I missed questions, I missed classes, I missed watching people grow.

"Hey kid?" I said. "To nurture, is to protect. I protect kids, so they can grow. No one is going to hurt you in our home."

It felt like eons since I had said that. I spoke it to every child that called these walls their refuge.