Chapter 6

Archer lay on the wooden rooftop terrace of the palace, gazing up at the blue sky as white clouds drifted slowly overhead.

He imagined what kind of world he could build with his brush.

What wonders he could create.

He took the brush from his pocket, placed it in his left hand, and swept it across the sky.

Part of the clouds disappeared.

The fact that it actually worked made him smile.

“Sol, I’ve been thinking...” Archer began.

“About what?” the amulet asked.

“What if there are other worlds?”

“Suppose there are,” Sol said. “What difference does that make to you?”

“Maybe they’re more interesting than this one,” Archer replied.

“This world isn’t enough for you?” Sol asked.

“I don’t think it is.”

“And you want to travel to other worlds?”

“I do.” Archer sighed. “But at the same time, I’m afraid.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose the brush.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to come back.

“I’m afraid I’ll become someone’s prisoner.”

“What kind of worlds do you imagine?”

“All kinds,” Archer said. “It’s just that our world is so empty.

“There aren’t many people. Not many countries. Not many wonders.

“Not many adventures.”

“Perhaps our world is a canvas,” Sol said. “There isn’t much on it yet.

“But perhaps that’s a good thing.

“Maybe our world is waiting for someone to fill it.”

The Painter laughed.

“What would it take for you to stop being afraid of other worlds?” the amulet asked.

“Power!” Archer said. “I need to become so powerful that no one can take away my brush.

“Or my freedom...”

“Is there anything stopping you from becoming that powerful?”

“I don’t know,” Archer said. “Do you have any ideas?”

“You learned archery,” Sol replied. “You can learn other skills as well.”

“Like what?”

“Other combat skills, for a start,” Sol said. “Learn to shoot a handgun accurately. Learn to fight with swords and spears. Learn to use a shield.

“Train your agility, speed, flexibility, and reflexes.

“Become an athlete.

“Learn hand-to-hand combat. Wrestling.”

“Yes, that sounds good,” the Painter admitted. “Any other ideas?”

“Yes, Archer,” Sol replied. “You can create better weapons for yourself. Better armor.

“You can create magical items. Magical assistants.

“You can equip yourself for virtually any situation.”

“You know what?” Archer said. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He got up from the terrace and went inside the palace.

Down in the basement, he chose one of the empty rooms, took out his brush, and began creating mats for the floor and soft padding for the walls.

The Painter hummed to himself as he worked, covering the walls one section at a time.

He was eager to begin training as soon as possible, so he painted everything as quickly as he could.

Too quickly.

Suddenly, the brush sent a painful electrical shock through his hand.

His entire body jerked, and the brush fell from his fingers.

“Ow.”

Archer came to his senses, shaking his right hand.

“Right. Right. I forgot about that,” he muttered to himself.

He picked up the brush and resumed painting the padded walls, this time forcing himself to work more slowly.

It took him less than five minutes to transform the entire room into a training space.

Then came the important part.

He was about to create a completely new kind of magical object:

A sparring partner.

Archer painted a wooden crash-test dummy whose body roughly resembled a human being.

Then, very carefully, he painted a pink gemstone about the size of a coin into the palm of his left hand.

It was a Stone of Eternal Animation.

The Painter used the brush to create a small socket in the dummy’s forehead and inserted the gemstone.

The dummy instantly came to life.

It could move.

“Dummy, listen to my command,” Archer ordered.

The dummy immediately straightened and looked at its master.

“Actually, wait,” the Painter said. “I need to give you a name.”

Archer painted a name tag on the dummy’s chest.

It read:

My name is: Dummy No. 1.

“From now on, your name is Dummy Number One,” Archer said. “Confirm that you understand.”

The dummy nodded.

“Excellent,” Archer said. “Dummy Number One, listen to my command.

“Hand-to-hand combat training.

“Attack me.”

The dummy immediately lunged at Archer and, with one precise blow of its wooden fist to his head, knocked its master unconscious.

When Archer came to, Dummy Number One was standing over him, staring down.

“All right,” Archer said, pressing a hand against the spot where he had been struck. “Dummy, get away from me.”

Dummy obeyed and stepped back.

Archer got up from the mats, picked up the brush from the floor, and slipped it into his pocket.

“Dummy, listen to my command.

“Difficulty level: minimum.

“Hand-to-hand combat training.

“Attack me.”

The dummy raised its wooden fists, assumed a fighting stance, and advanced on Archer.

The training had begun.

Because Archer never grew tired and needed neither sleep nor food nor rest, he could train indefinitely.

He periodically healed the bruises, scrapes, bumps, and cuts he accumulated during training with a magical Bracelet of Minor Healing he had created.

Whenever he suffered broken bones or other serious injuries, however, the Painter simply ordered the dummy to strangle him to death.

The following day, he would come back to life in his chambers at the palace—

and immediately return to training.

Archer installed a mirror in the training room and, looking at his reflection through the Glasses of Omniscience, checked the precise levels of his skills, each measured on a scale from one to one hundred.

From the very beginning, he could see exactly how quickly each skill was developing.

Through experimentation, Archer discovered that the higher a skill became, the longer it took to improve it further.

After discussing this with Sol, the two decided that rather than spend an enormous amount of time perfecting a single skill, Archer would develop dozens of skills to a moderate level.

The experience he gained through his training fights slowly replenished the brush’s charge, and over the following months, the Painter and Sol devised more and more magical items—particularly ones that could help with his training.

The Student’s Gi.

The Bracelet of Accelerated Training.

The Belt of Greater Experience.

Archer also wore the Crown of Time, because it helped him enter a state of heightened concentration. With the crown on his head, he was more attentive, his mind completely focused on the fight.

Then, during the second month of training, something interesting happened.

Archer was reading a book on wrestling that he had created with the brush and practicing new techniques on the animated dummy when he realized just how inefficient it was to teach himself without an instructor.

But where was he supposed to find a wrestling instructor in prehistoric times?

And where could he find one willing to train him day and night, for weeks on end, without rest?

That was when the idea occurred to him:

He could give Sol a body.

Before creating one, however, Archer asked Sol whether he wanted a humanoid body and whether he was willing to become Archer’s trainer.

Sol agreed.

Archer imagined a magical mannequin with an empty socket where its face should have been—a socket capable of reading the will of whatever sentient object was placed inside it.

He painted the mannequin slowly and carefully, making sure not to provoke another shock from the brush.

Then he inserted the silver amulet into the socket in its face.

The mannequin instantly came to life.

Archer took several steps back, giving Sol’s new body plenty of room to move.

“Sol, tell me. What do you feel?” Archer asked.

Sol raised one hand and stared at his palm.

He clenched his fist.

Opened it.

Turned his hand from side to side.

Then he lowered his head and examined the rest of his body.

“I feel... a body,” Sol said uncertainly. “It’s a very strange sensation.”

“Try walking around. Moving,” Archer said.

Sol stepped forward—

and immediately tripped and fell.

Archer helped him back to his feet.

It took half a day for Sol to grow accustomed to his new body, learn to walk, and learn to fight.

He spent the remaining half of the day studying every skill Archer needed help training.

Through the Glasses of Omniscience, Archer watched Sol’s skill levels rise at an astonishing rate—dozens of times faster than his own.

Within only a couple of days, Sol had reached a perfect one hundred in every skill.

He now surpassed Archer at everything.

The silver advisor also read the book on wrestling, along with every other book Archer had created to teach himself combat skills.

His reading speed, too, was far beyond anything a human being could achieve.

“Archer,” Sol said, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Go ahead,” Archer replied.

“It appears that I have a will of my own,” the amulet said. “I think that when you created me—when you painted this amulet—you never clearly defined in your imagination whether I was supposed to be a servant or a free being.

“And now that I have a body and am no longer physically bound to you, I’m beginning to realize that I have free will.”

“What does that mean?” Archer asked, concerned.

“It means I’m not your servant,” Sol said. “I don’t have to obey you. I choose for myself whether to obey or not.”

“And what do you choose?” Archer asked.

“I choose to help you train. I choose to be your instructor.

“But once our training is complete, I’ll have another choice to make about what I want to do next.

“And I can’t promise that I’ll stay with you.

“Perhaps I’ll go my own way.

“Perhaps I won’t.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Archer said nothing.

He was unsettled.

His own creation had slipped beyond his control.

He hadn’t been prepared for that.

“Sol, I can’t say I’m happy about this development,” Archer said.

“I understand,” the amulet replied. “But I’ve told you the truth. I’ve told you how things are.

“Our future together is uncertain.”

The Painter took a deep breath.

He felt frustration.

Betrayal.

Even fear.

And it was clear that, for more than one reason, there was no going back.

“All right, Sol,” Archer said. “I appreciate your honesty.

“If I no longer control you, then so be it.

“Let’s at least finish my training, like we planned.”

“Agreed,” Sol said.

And so they began.

It took Archer a couple of days to accept that Sol had free will—to come to terms with this new reality.

Yes, he could take the brush and erase Sol’s body.

He could even erase the amulet itself, replenishing the magic brush’s charge in the process.

Then he could create a new amulet, this time imagining it as something that had to obey Archer in all things.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that.

For now, he simply hoped Sol would choose to remain with him.

In the meantime, Sol proved to be an excellent instructor and a formidable fighter.

He raised and lowered the difficulty according to Archer’s current abilities, optimizing every fight to make his training as effective as possible.

Sol also took responsibility for Archer’s physical conditioning.

That was somewhat more complicated. Unlike his combat skills, Archer’s athletic ability required regular training to maintain. Sol made it clear that if Archer stopped exercising, his physical conditioning would begin to deteriorate.

They trained together for four months.

By the end, both of them fought in heavy metal armor. They no longer used training weapons, but real ones.

And they fought in earnest.

Even then, Sol still had to hold back at least a little.

Otherwise, Archer didn’t stand a chance.

Once he had raised every combat skill he could think of to eighty out of one hundred, Archer declared his training complete.

Over those six months, thanks to his inexhaustible stamina and his ability to train day and night, Archer had compressed roughly ten years of training into an incredibly short span of time.

There was no longer any doubt:

No one in this prehistoric world could match him.

No human, at least.

There was still Sol.

Sol surpassed Archer in every way but one.

Archer had the brush.

“So what now, Sol?” Archer asked. “Have you decided what you want to do?”

“Yes, Archer,” the advisor replied. “For the foreseeable future, I’d like to accompany you as your advisor, assistant, and companion.

“If you intend to travel to other worlds, I would like to see them.”

“I’ll be glad to have you with me,” Archer said.

“Then I’m at your disposal,” Sol replied. “When do we leave?”

“Soon,” Archer said. “Let’s take one last walk through the city first. See how our country is doing. Talk to the people in charge.”

“Agreed,” Sol said.

They left the palace and stepped outside.

It was winter.

Snow was falling, and the city seemed almost deserted.

“Come on,” Archer said.

And they walked.

They crossed the central square, followed the main street and its side streets, visiting people in their homes and asking how they were doing.

They stopped by the main bakery, the blacksmith’s forge, a large workshop, the granaries, the fire station, the community center, the unfinished Temple of Archer, and other places throughout the city.

Many of the people Archer spoke with were puzzled by the sight of the two men.

Their heavy metal armor made them look intimidating.

Sol also wore a helmet that completely concealed his face. He kept it on to avoid shocking people with his inhuman appearance.

“Do you have everything you need?” Archer asked the citizens. “Are you happy?”

“Yes, my lord,” one father replied. “We’re happy with our lives.

“Of course, the city feels rather empty now that half the population has left to establish new settlements. We lost many friends and acquaintances. Many good people.

“The children miss Anka too. They miss the stories she used to tell them in the community center every evening.

“But we understand that these changes are necessary. And we know that, in time, life will settle down again.

“We’re grateful to you and Anka for watching over us.”

“Good,” Archer said.

The city council assembled at the palace.

The council leaders proposed holding a celebration to mark the completion of Archer’s training and his departure for other worlds.

Archer declined.

“What do you need?” he asked the twelve Masters. “What can I do for you before I leave?”

“The city’s most serious problems were resolved when you returned six months ago,” the elderly Master of Coin said. “Since then, the city has begun a new life. A much more peaceful one.

“We are grateful, Ruler.

“The only thing I would dare ask is that you not leave us forever.

“Please, don’t stay away too long.”

“I’ll return regularly,” Archer said. “You can be certain of that. This world is like a home to me.

“But while I’m gone, you will govern the city yourselves.

“My people are in your care and under your protection.

“And I will hold you responsible for them.”

“We understand, Ruler,” the Master of Coin replied.

In the basement of the palace, Archer chose a large empty room and used his magic brush to create a stone archway within it—

a portal to another world.

As the Painter created the portal, he imagined a world rich with people, wonders, and adventures.

Before leaving, Archer wrote a letter to Anka in case she returned to the city while he was away.

Then, gathering his courage, Archer and Sol stepped into the glowing portal—

and vanished from the world.