"The hole in the ground is only part of my origins," he said lightly as he turned enough to show off his back. He could sense some of the extent of his wounds, and while they hurt, he was a god after all. Give him some time and he would heal - if he had access to ambrosia or nectar, that would be even better, but he would just have to make do with time.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I came from another world? And I don't mean one that's circling up there with the stars." Divulging these sorts of secrets was usually pointless - mortals rarely believed these days that the world was bigger than they knew, unless they were true believers in him or those like him. They only believed when they saw, which he had to give them some credit for. Stubborn for mayflies. Of course, he was unaware that maybe this king hadn't been born in this world.

"There are probably worlds out there where you're a beggar, rather than high king."