“Hey, come here, you need to see this.” A Reaper friend of mine said, barging into my living area. Buildings and land didn’t exist here, outside of a physical universe, but I was able to create a reasonable facsimile of them within the three dimensional pocket I had created where my will controlled what existed. While we had grown up in the same training group for new gods, we had taken different paths in life. They had chosen to be a Harvest Reaper, a god which collected souls from the Aether and brought the ones powerful enough to become gods to training groups and the ones which didn’t have enough power to gods that owned universe so that they could be given a body and become conscious.

I had chosen to try and become one of those Physical Universe gods, maybe one day moving to a physical universe or, if I was strong enough, creating my own physical universe. For now, however, I was just studying everything I could on the subject.

I followed them to where dozens of deities were floating around in at least seven different dimensions. “See, what did I tell you? Have you ever seen anything like it?”

In front of me was a three dimensional mass of aether and divine energy. The two things swirled around the mass in a toroid shape. If it wasn’t for my studies of three dimensional physical universes I wouldn’t have remembered what that shape was called, but I remembered mostly because I had recently studied magnetic fields.

“Any idea what it is?”

I indicated that I had no knowledge of the topic, what mortal bipedal beings would call a shrug. “Looks almost like a soul in the middle.”

“I’ve never seen a soul like that.” said my friend. I suddenly realized why mortals wanted names. It made referring to a specific person much easier, especially when they couldn’t just transfer information about the subject when talking about another. Maybe I’d pick one and see if my friend wanted to do so as well. I would need one if I joined a universe with sapient lifeforms anyway. And probably a gender too, though that wasn’t necessary in all cases. “It seems unstable.” As we watched, it seemed to grow and shift, becoming a more powerful version of a soul. “Did we just witness a soul upgrade? That is a rare phenomenon, and it appears to already be fairly high grade, making it an even rarer phenomenon. I doubt we’ll see this again within the next million years.”

The deities here moved to three dimensional positions around the strange soul. It was radiating out vast amounts of mana, and, even though it couldn’t be used for everything, having stores of mana meant that you could save yourself the stress of manipulating divine energy and aether to get what you wanted. I and my friend floated there for some period of time until I saw something strange happening in the weird soul. It again started to destabilize, then grew in size and power.

“Ok, this is strange.” said my friend. “The soul shouldn’t be upgrading this fast.”

“How long should it take, then?” I asked them.

“I don’t know exactly. Maybe a few million years? Usually upgrading occurs because a soul slowly manages to accumulate aether and incorporate it into themselves. This one is somehow purposely drawing it in.”

“Could it be some Sage trying to Ascend?” I asked, only to get the equivalent of a bewildered look. “Sometimes a mortal will, through meditation, learn to draw in aether or divine energy and incorporate it into their soul, eventually upgrading it. This process is usually known as “ascending” and is used by them in an attempt to become gods. Even that usually takes hundreds or thousands of years per stage. I’ve been here less than a tenth of a year.”

“Most unusual.” We kept watching, drawing in what mana we could, and a little over a tenth-year later the soul started fluctuating again. “We really need to watch it this time. Who knows what we might learn if we can figure out how it is upgrading itself?” We watched intently, using all of our senses to gather all of the information we could. I even altered my perception of time with a bit of divine energy, studying exactly how the soul fluctuated. A few years of subjective time later it started to condense, compressing the aether it had gathered and becoming a god-like soul. If it was just a soul, we could take it to a training center and earn a billions of mana for our trouble. With that vortex around it, however, I couldn’t risk getting close enough to grab it, as it would strip aether from my own soul now that it was on the same level as myself. “It became a god?” asked my friend, bringing me back to standard time. “Maybe you’re right and it is ‘ascending’.”

The mass then started moving. Its recent upgrade had allowed it to be at least somewhat conscious outside of a physical reality, and now it moved erratically across the different directions. The dieties which had gathered around it chased it, hoping to gather more than the few million mana they had already gotten from it, but it just moved in even stranger ways to try and avoid them.

Eventually the chase lead to it colliding with a three dimensional physical universe. The deities figuratively sighed and left. That universe in particular was being watched over by the Supreme Deity that created it, and wouldn’t let others in without permission. “Well, looks like the fun is over. Back to work.” said my friend, then left.

“Guess it is,” I said, making my way back to my domain.

--

Xirkos entered the holding room. They had sensed something trying to enter their universe and it had been automatically rerouted here. The space held no matter or energy, being just an expanse of space to hold intruders, but with the void floated a baby, a male humanoid child with golden skin. It made no sense. If no matter existed here, yet a body of matter did, then that could only mean one thing. This child created its own body once it entered the space. And only a god could do that. Most interesting. He had never had a new god soul enter his universe by accident, and this one appeared to already be able to convert Aether into matter in quite complex patterns. They would have to keep an eye on this one.

The problem of not having a place or the desire to raise a child came to Them, however. How would They solve this issue? Well, there were mortals on some of the worlds within Their universe that worship Them. Surely they would have the means and desire to raise a child if They asked.

Xirkos found a world with a large humanoid population, and looked for one of Their followers. In a temple on top of a mountain was a monastery, and within it was a monk who was currently praying to Them for understanding of their purpose in life. If this man wanted purpose, They would give him purpose.

Quickly forming a place where the mortal could survive and taking a humanoid appearance, Xirkos brought the monk to the waiting room. The man immediately collapsed to the ground, prostrating themselves before their Deity. “Arise.” commanded Xirkos in a gender neutral voice. “I have brought you here because you seek purpose in life, a mission to bring your life meaning. Here is that purpose.” Xirkos handed the monk the boy.

“But my Lord, Lady. I have never raised a child. I have trained children, orphans on behalf of the monastery, but never one myself. I am not a father yet.”

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“Either honorific is fine. Now you are a father. You are to adopt that child as your own and raise them as you see fit, to the best of your abilities. Just know that the child is special, and may do things that you do not understand. Know that I will be monitoring the situation, so if you need advise, you need only pray.”

The monk bowed, being careful not to harm the child. “As you command, my deity.”

Xirkos waved their hand and the man and child disappeared back to the monastery. This should be interesting.

–

“Monk Ghido?” asked the head priest upon hearing a baby cry in the most sacred part of the temple, the room of statues. “Where did that baby come from?”

“It was given to me.” said the monk, trying to grasp the weight of the situation. “Given to me by Xirkos themselves. I was ordered to adopt them, and raise them.” He looked down at the golden skinned newborn, tickling it with one finger to try and quiet it. “I have no intention of leaving the monastery, but for now I must leave to see to his needs. Excuse me.” With that, he left the holy room, the other monks staring in either disbelief or surprise. After all, why would the Supreme One grant a child to one of their youngest members, one who only joined the priesthood less than a year ago?

By the end of the day, however, Ghido had found one of the pregnant nuns to act as a wetnurse, and had a crib from the orphanage moved to his quarters. This nun had devoted her life to Aranya, goddess of fertility, and as such her vow included having as many children as possible. Such nuns always acted as wetnurses for the orphanage, and now they would act as such for the child of a monk.

No one knew what race the child was, but they didn’t care. Even the lowest beastfolk would be raised with care here, as the monks guiding them along their correct path in life, teaching them anything they needed to know. This child learned quickly, speaking its first word at only a few months and learning to walk by its first birthday. Soon after this, the child was given the name Brin and allowed to play with the children of the other holy men and women, as well as the orphans. There he mastered many games, and was soon able to hide better than any of the older children, only losing hide and seek because he was too slow to get away once spotted.

His skill and talent made the other children jealous of him and one day at the age of two, as he slowly made his way down the stairs to the basement gym, a six year old boy pushed him. He tumbled down the steps breaking several bones and cracking his skull. The boy who pushed him begged for forgiveness, but was locked in his room, the size of an average jail cell, with only bread and water to eat and drink. There he would remain until Brin recovered or died, at which point he would either make amends or be handed over to the town guard of the nearby town for punishment and likely indentured servitude for his attempted murder. It was a harsh punishment, but one that was necessary to maintain the order and justice demanded by Soquan, god of Justice.

Ghido used what healing magic he knew to set the bones and several other holy men and women also did what they could, but the boy wasn’t waking up. If only the vow Ghido had taken hadn’t banned the use of mana cores, he might have had the energy to fix all of the damage. Maybe, because of the lack of healing, the blow to the head had caused too much damage and he would never wake up? Ghido cried himself to sleep at the boy’s bedside, begging Xirkos for answers. Xirkos didn’t respond.

The next morning, however, a small hand shook him awake. “Father Ghido? Are you ok?” He looked up to see Brin staring him in the face.

“You, you’re alive! And Awake! Truly my prayers have been answered!” He picked Brin up and hugged him hard enough to threaten to break his bones again. Realizing this, he set Brin down. “You must be hungry. Come, lets go to the kitchen and get you something good to eat.

Brin wasn’t really hungry, but he went anyway. For as long as Brin could remember, he was only hungry when he wanted to be, which mostly mean when others wanted to hang out with him. After breakfast he was lead to an exam room where a doctor from the city had come to examine him. Brin laid there and let the man run all of the tests he wanted, then the man took Ghido out of the room to talk to him.

“I can find nothing wrong with the boy.”

“That’s good.” said Ghido, breathing a sigh of relief.

“No, you don’t understand. Even the best healing leaves behind traces, like microscopic scars that need to heal on their own. I should be able to tell which of his ribs were broken, where his skull was fractured, which organs and which part of his brain was bleeding, and all the other injuries. Those signs just simply aren’t there. It’s as if he was healed by a miracle, though this monastery has no prophet, and even the saintess cannot yet use magic. And there’s another anomaly.”

“Something in his physiology?” guessed Ghido.

“No, not exactly. I normally check the sex, race, species, and bloodline traits of all of my patients, as those things may make certain treatments work better or differently. I didn’t get any of that information, though, other than that he was a boy.”

“You mean he isn’t an elf or half elf? I had assumed so, as only some high-born elves have golden skin.”

“No, he isn’t an elf. I’m not even sure he’s a humanoid. Even if he was a Precursor, or a Moira, or a Giant, or a Goblix, the ancient ancestor of humanoids and goblinoids, or a Blix, the humanoid branch ancestor, I should have gotten something that gave me a hint. I got nothing.”

“A homunculus?” The creation of sapient life through magical growth was banned in most nations, but occasionally you would hear of an evil wizard attempting it.

“Again, no. I would get some response from the race the evil wizard had used the tissue of. There was nothing.”

I nodded. “Very strange. If he’s healthy, though, there shouldn’t be any reason he can return to his normal life, right?”

The doctor shrugged. “As far as I can tell, yes. He is fine to return to his normal life.”

Monk Ghido nodded and the two returned to the room. “Well, the doctor says you’re fine, so you can go play if you want to.”

“Yay!” Brin said, jumping off of the bed that should have been too tall for him to attempt a jump from, but not injuring himself. “Thanks, Father, Mr. Doctor.”

Before he could open the door, however, the Doctor stopped him. “I do have one question for you before you go. Do you have any idea why you healed so quickly and completely?”

Brin shrugged. “I just didn’t want to be sick.” With that he opened the door and ran off to find some other children to play with, ignoring the stunned adults in the room.

“Do you think he might have healed himself?” asked Ghido.

“Not with magic. Even a level fifteen spell cast by a master would leave behind those micro scars.”

“Could he be a saint or prophet?” Ghido told the doctor the secret of how he had come to have the boy.

The doctor shook his head. “It is possible, and would explain why Xirkos handed you the boy. I don’t have the ability to see soul marks, though, as I only deal with the body. You’ll have to ask the high monk about that. I believe he’s the only one around here with that ability.”

Ghido nodded, thanked the doctor, and left. The monastery paid him a set amount per month to be on standby, so he didn’t need to be paid.

For the next two and three quarters years everything went well. Brin just seemed like a normal kid. That was until he was taken to begin learning magic with the other children that were around five years old.

Monk Tanno, a Master ranked Combat mage, told them about how everyone was born with mana inside of them, and could learn to control it. When you were born, your mana pressure was the same as your mothers. Once you left her body, though, it started dropping until it equalized with the environment. He demonstrated this by placing a cup with a hole in the bottom in a bowl, and letting the water leak out into the bowl, equalizing the levels. Once you could use mana, though, the level inside you would be able to increase above the background pressure, allowing you to cast more powerful spells. This he demonstrated by taking a potion vial, turning it upside down in the bowl of water, only allowing a little water inside, and lifting it so that the vacuum within the vial raised the water inside above the level of the water in the bowl.

He set a candle in front of each of us, lighting it. “Now, I want you to try and feel the pressure within yourself, to feel how it flows through your skin and into your chest while also leaking out across your body. Once you have the image, I want you to take some of this mana and send it into the candle flame, willing the flame to grow. It may take you a while, but I’m sure you can manage eventually. Everyone has this ability.”

Brin smiled internally. That was it? He had known about mana for years. While he had played with it inside of himself years ago, it was one of many, and in his opinion, one of the worst energy sources he felt around him and in him. Still, that was the task he had been asked to do it, so he would. He broke off a drop of mana from the lake within himself and sent it into the flame, ordering the flame to grow. A jet of flame shot up half a meter tall and extinguished itself as it burned the wick to ash before it could draw in enough wax to sustain the flame.

The children looked amazed, but not as much as Monk Tanno. A few seconds later, he came over to Brin and had him stand up. “It’s fine. Nothing wrong. He just happens to have higher mana pressure than most people, that’s all. See.” Monk Tanno quickly shaved the candle, relit it and made the flame grow just as much. “See. The practice is just a poor match for him. Now, please continue practicing as I go find a more appropriate form of practice for Brin.”

He lead Brin out of the room and to the magic practice area. “So, tell me, Brin. How tired did that make you? Do you feel like you are ready to pass out?”

Brin shrugged. “Not at all. I can do that a million more times.”

Monk Tanno scratched his head. “Really? In that case, why don’t you try this?” Monk Tanno conjured a fire bolt, and Brin copied. Tanno conjured a fire ball, and again, Brin copied it perfectly. It seemed that any basic or intermediate spell using fire, ice, light, or electricity that he did, Brin copied it perfectly. It wasn’t until he started using sound and illusion spells that Brin struggled. Brin’s illusions were badly distorted and his sounds muffled. Brin seemed to have no ability to use mental or kinetic spells like rock bullet or water ball. “Good. I have found your limits. In that case, please come here at noon every day except the day of rest and I will personally train you. You have surpassed everything I wanted to teach you in that class, and I can teach you the utility spells in private, so there is no need for you to continue coming to class.”