The hovel from before was replaced by a scene outdoors. We stood in the center of a clearing, surrounded by enormous trees with the greenest leaves. In Edrona, I’d only ever seen pine and the occasional weak oak. But these trees were mighty, and the grass… I had never seen grass before; I’d only read about it in books. I dropped to the ground and admired the lush, verdant green seeping into the color. I tried to run a hand along the blades; they looked so soft. But my hand ran through the ground like I was a ghost.
“Lord Solomon was raised on planet A-89–several universes away from your home.” The AI studied me as I rose from the ground. “We are standing on the outskirts of his city, Storia.”
I had known that there were other worlds beyond Edrona, but several universes away? How many universes were out there?
“Wait,” I said, a sudden thought presenting itself, “if we’re in a different universe, how is it I understand what everyone was saying during the birth? Does everyone speak the same language in all of existence?”
“No. That’s something you can thank Codex for. He can instantly translate most foreign languages in your mind. It’s so quick, in fact, that you will never notice. There are some languages Codex has never come across, but he should be able to compute those languages once he studies them for a day or two and insert them into his database.”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe something like Codex actually lived in my head.
“It’s true, Master. Translating languages for you is just one of many things I can do. You’ll see.”
I still wasn’t used to the blatant interjections of a foreign voice in my mind, so I didn’t respond to Codex.
I looked around myself, then up to the sky. Only one sun beat its rays upon us, and it was much larger than the two on my planet, X-47-14.
“How did we even get here?” I breathed. “And so quickly?”
“We’re not physically here. I am sharing Lord Solomon’s and my memories with you.” The AI tapped his forehead. “In your mind.”
“But it’s so vivid.”
I could clearly see every blade of grass rustling underneath my feet, and I could hear the birds singing their songs as they flitted about the trees. I could even smell the damp soil and feel the crispness of a warm breeze dancing through the clearing.
The sound of children’s laughter approached, and Lord Solomon and I turned in the direction it came from. Six children barrelled through the forest, shoving and teasing one another playfully. There were four boys and two girls, and they all had matching black hair and blue eyes. I had never seen so many people look so similar to me in my entire life.
The youngest child, a little boy of maybe two or three years, chased after from behind. His short curls stuck up in disarray, and his stubby toddler legs couldn’t quite keep up with his siblings.
“Wait for me!” his soft voice squeaked.
“Hey, stop!” One of the girls, about my age, skidded to a halt. Her loose skirts billowed around her ankles as a sharp breeze blew through the forest.
The rest of the children stopped at her command, cheeks red and breaths heavy. The girl in the pretty skirts, possibly the oldest among the group, traced her steps back toward the toddler and scooped him up into her arms. She tickled his chubby belly and smiled as squeals of laughter peeled from his lips.
“You are too slow, Solomon. We’re going to be late to temple.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Temple?” I said as the children passed us. “Like the Temple of Euridice in Edrona? Are they going to a Marking Ceremony?”
Lord Solomon shook his head. “Well, yes and no. People in this universe worship the God of Plenty, Lord Vetar. And they go to temple to worship him once a week. And they don’t have Marking Ceremonies–they’re blessed with the ability to cultivate from birth.”
My mind hurt from all of that information. “Wait. There’s another god? I thought the goddess reigned over all of existence.”
Lord Solomon threw his head back and laughed. I didn’t see what was so funny.
“There are many gods, Number 52. What do you think Lord Solomon was? He was the God of Knowledge, and you are one of his godspawn.”
It was my turn to laugh. “No. Lady Euridice is the Goddess of Knowledge.”
The AI lowered his gaze to my face. “Wrong again, Number 52.”
“Stop calling me that! My name is Rayden!”
He raised a thick brow. “Your name offers no meaning. You are Clone Number 52, and your purpose is to strive to become Lord Solomon and once again attain his full glory.”
I rubbed palms over my eyes, feeling like my head was about to explode. Lord Solomon was shattering every thought and belief I’d ever had. More than one god? Lady Euridice wasn’t the Goddess of Knowledge? I was a godspawn? Other universes were blessed from birth to cultivate and didn’t have to go through a Marking Ceremony?
My thoughts returned to the Nagari our Hunters group had fought in the gulch. They had fought against us like they had been Marked.
“Can all sorts of creatures cultivate?” I asked Lord Solomon. “If some people don’t have to go through a Marking Ceremony, does that mean monsters, like the Nagari, can also advance through the Tiers?”
“All creatures with some semblance of civilization can cultivate,” Lord Solomon replied. “And technically, no one has to receive a Mark from Lady Euridice.”
“What?”
Lord Solomon held a finger to his lips. “All will be answered soon. As I said, most creatures can cultivate. Like the Nagari on your planet. In fact, you will meet with many monsters in your future who might even be higher-Tiered than you.”
I glanced up at Lord Solomon, who folded his arms and waited patiently for me to process the new information. But why should I trust him? No matter how much the AI looked like me, he was a stranger. In fact, he wasn’t real at all–just a device created by someone long since dead.
“Alright, answer me this,” I demanded. “Why would we know Lady Euridice as the Goddess of Knowledge if someone else already had that title?”
The AI sighed heavily. “That answer is hard to give in just words. Most of your questions will be answered if you keep watching Lord Solomon’s memories.”
“Fine.”
Lord Solomon waved a hand once again, and the various hues of green in the forest swirled around us until they transformed again. I watched an older Lord Solomon, maybe 18, in an extensive training arena made entirely from stone. A rack of weapons lined one wall, and a group of spectators lined another.
Solomon trained alone in the center of the arena. He flung dagger after dagger at a dummy thirty feet away from him, hitting it straight in the face every time. And in between each throw of a dagger, he waved a finger or made a shape with his arms and catapulted a spell at the five other dummies lined behind the one in the center. His spellcasting and weapon mastery were so fast, and every spell differed from the last.
My jaw dropped as one dummy fell to the ground from a blast of red wind, another from a sudden burst of flame, and one even became engulfed in a wave of foamy green water that appeared out of nowhere. I’d never seen anything like it. And stranger yet, I found it odd to watch myself do all of those things. Of course, I knew it wasn’t me. But, then again… our DNA was identical. Could I do those things someday?
“I’ve never seen him cast that wave spell before,” one of the onlookers said. “Is it just me, or is he learning new spells and receiving new Skills every week, if not every day?”
Choruses of agreement surrounded the speaker.
“I wonder how he does it?” said another.
Solomon ignored the gossip and stopped his dancing about the arena. With hardly a heavy breath, he peered at the dummies and nodded his approval. Then, with a flick of his right pointer finger, all five daggers he had thrown returned to his hand.
“That’s the most powerful person I have ever seen,” I marveled.
“Well, he’s only Tier 4 here, so you’ve yet to see true power.”
“Only Tier 4?!” I sputtered. The highest Edrona had ever seen was Tier 3, and that sometimes took decades of cultivating and nurturing one’s talents. And this boy couldn’t be more than 18!
“How high does he get?”
The AI grinned as if sharing a joke with himself. “Much, much higher.”