Alternate worlds

"What do you mean you don't know who it was?" she asked.

Jumal sighed and rubbed his face. He had forgotten the girl's name. So many people to keep track of... "Do you know the name of every human on your planet?" he asked her condescendingly.

"But you're a god!" she protested. "And aren't there only five of you?"

"That you know of."

Jumal immediately regretted saying that, as he saw the joy and wonder blooming onto the girl's face. "You mean there are more?" she asked, bewildered at the idea.

"There are more than you can count," he said dismissively. "This is not the only world, and each world must have its gods."

The girl grabbed onto his arm, seemingly having forgotten about the numerous wounds that she had suffered in the carnage that had only hours before swept into their land, and which Jumal had only barely been able to hold at bay, thanks to the meddling the unknown god had done. It had known he would be there, and masked its presence. But Jumal knew the acts of a god when he saw them... "You have to tell me about them!" the girl exclaimed, bringing Jumal back to the present.

"There are too many to describe," Jumal said, shaking his head.

"Just tell me about some of them, then! I have to know what kind of things there are out there!"

"Why? You may never even be able to see them. They hold no relevance in your life at present, and I find it hard to believe they ever will."

The girl shook his arm, almost violently, and he suspected the movements was more aggravating to her than they were to him.

Jumal sighed and thought to himself for a moment. There were too many worlds to visit in one lifetime, even for a god. And so many whose differences were minuscule compared to this world...

"Imagine a world where colors are painted," he said after a long pause. The girl's eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. "They aren't just there. They aren't various textures. They are like paint on a canvas. Never quite consistent, but more vibrant than any natural thing in this world. They swirl together at times, and at others lie next to one another, sharp contrasts between them, giving depth and shape to that world.

"In a valley of greens and purples and blues sits a single tree. Maroons and browns crawl along each other up its trunk, until they reach the vibrant pinks and scarlets of its leaves, which are little more than circles surrounding the ends of the branches. Its shade falls down on the valley, but instead of darkening the land, it brightens, to become blinding yellow and rose. This spreads out like fire in the shade of the tree, and its edges fade back to the greens and blues of the surrounding hills.

"And just under this tree, stuck down halfway into the ground, is a cyan great sword, its sharp edges only amplified by the soft and rounded edges of the grass around it. It rises like a thorn from the ground, a marker left behind for unknown reasons."

The girl's eyes couldn't have been wider. "Is there really such a place?" she asked.

Jumal raised an eyebrow. "What possible reason could I have for lying about that?"